Lee Minho

Minho hated the word "friends," especially when Jisung used it in reference to someone else. They were sitting in the back row, and Jisung was once again enthusiastically recounting the great time he'd had the day before.
"...and Chan hyung helped me with the track, and Felix baked those very brownies!" Jisung was practically glowing, gesturing wildly. "And then Hyunjin came, and we all went to the park together, where we met Jongin. Minho, you should have seen it, it was so much fun!"
Minho silently twirled his pen in his hands, irritation bubbling within him. Chan hyung, Lixie, Hyunjinie. Jisung spread his warmth to everyone around him, completely oblivious to the fact that for Minho, it was slow torture. Their own relationship had long since crossed the line of ordinary friendship—those long, backhanded hugs, the occasional touch of fingers, the way Jisung would fall asleep on his shoulder while studying for exams. It was a "pre-friendship," stuck in limbo.
"Minho, are you even listening to me?" Jisung nudged him in the side with his elbow, pouting in annoyance.
"Yes, I'm listening, " Minho replied dryly, not looking at him. "I'm happy for you. Found myself a new company."
Jisung froze, the cheerful smile instantly fading from his face.
— What's wrong? What company? They're your friends too.
"But you spend your time with them, not with me, " Minho snapped, finally turning to him. His dark chocolate eyes were filled with frank, prickly jealousy.
Jisung blinked, looking at the older man in surprise. It took him a moment to grasp the meaning of these words, but when he did, the boy's cheeks instantly flushed crimson.

• Minho... are you jealous?
  "Yes, I am," Minho answered bluntly and without hesitation, closing the distance between them so that Jisung's back was against the wall . "Because I don't like it when someone else makes you laugh. And I don't like sharing you."
  Jisung swallowed, looking confused at Minho's lips that were too close.
  “But they’re just friends…” he muttered quietly.
  "What about us? " Minho grabbed his hand under the desk, tightly intertwining their fingers. "Are we 'just friends' too?"