Minho

The neon signs of Tokyo were just starting to flicker on, casting a warm, colorful glow over the crowded streets. Jisung walked a step ahead, holding a half-empty paper cup of hot matcha latte he’d bought at the last corner. He was talking about some random song he’d heard in a clothing store, his hands moving dynamically to match his words. Minho walked right beside him, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, simply listening.

It was getting colder. The wind blew a stray strand of hair across Jisung’s face, and he shivered slightly, pulling his oversized hoodie tighter around himself. Minho noticed it instantly. Without interrupting Han's story, he reached out and casually adjusted the collar of Jisung’s jacket – a sharp, natural movement to keep the wind out.

— You should’ve taken a warmer coat, Minho muttered, his fingers briefly brushing against the skin of Jisung’s neck. The contrast of Han’s warmth against the cold air made something shift in his chest.

Jisung stopped talking for a second, blinking at him, then let out a small, embarrassed laugh. — I didn't think it would drop this fast.

— You never do, Minho replied, but there was no real edge to his voice. He took a half-step closer, naturally blocking the worst of the wind for him.

They turned into a narrower alley lined with small izakayas and ramen shops. Jisung took another sip of his drink, his shoulder bumping into Minho’s as they navigated the small crowd. He was already looking around for a place to sit, while Minho just kept his pace steady right next to him, making sure they didn't lose each other in the rush.

Jisung suddenly stopped outside a small cafe window, looking at the display of strawberry daifuku.

— Look at those. Should we get some?

Minho looked at the sweets, then down at Jisung’s face, catching the small, expectant spark in his eyes.

— Only if you're buying, Minho teased, already reaching for the door handle to let him in first.