Loving had never been easy for Minho. There was no trauma in his past to explain it; his heart simply seemed like barren ground where no seed could take root. He had dated several girls, but the only reason he saw them was for sex, a biological need that felt like a true imperative.

As for his bisexuality...

If he said he had always known, he would be lying. He never looked at men with the same hunger he had for women; it was something that developed over time, out of curiosity. At one point, he found himself wondering if his total lack of emotional attachment would allow him to be detached enough to be with men as well. And the answer was yes.

Emotionally, there was no difference. Physically, it was simply more fun. Men were bold, unrestrained, and straightforward. They didn’t sulk if you didn’t call them back—they didn’t care. If you reached out after three or four months just for a hookup, they didn’t respond with a sulky attitude; they sent their location, eager to meet up.

Were all gay men like that? Absolutely not. But Minho's experience had often followed that pattern, again and again. Perhaps it was because he mostly went out with pseudo-celebrities, people who wanted to be famous but at best were Instagram influencers shilling protein shakes, always hungry for fame, money, and sex.

He wondered if Jihoon had had the same bizarre experience with men. Probably, the dating world for regular people was completely different.

Minho took another sip and narrowed his eyes.

Jihoon...

If he tried to imagine him in bed with someone, he had to admit that it stirred a certain appetite in him.

Jihoon was still quite ephebic and delicate, plus that perpetually pouty frown she found adorable. If Minho tried to imagine him naked, needy and moaning....

No, Minho had to chase those thoughts out of his mind before they turned into an erection! 

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Minho finally asked, deciding it was time to venture into territory he probably should have explored earlier in the evening, before starting to daydream about the guy.

Jihoon, feeling more tipsy by the second, was on a rollercoaster of emotions, swinging from anger to hilarity. For some reason, everything seemed funny now. He started laughing almost to the point of tears, not saying anything for several seconds. He lightly slapped his palm on the table as he continued to chuckle, as if Minho had just said the funniest thing in the universe.

Minho raised an eyebrow, confused. "Everything okay, Jihoon? Want to take a break from the alcohol? How about drinking a couple of glasses of water…?"

"No, no—I'm fine," Jihoon said once he'd calmed down. He took a couple of deep breaths, then started laughing again. "Okay. Ah… No, no. I don't have a boyfriend."

"And that's hilarious to you?" Minho pressed.

Jihoon bit his lip to keep from laughing again. "It's funny, yeah."

"You find being single amusing? That makes sense, I guess, but you seem... way too amused."

"No, being single sucks," Jihoon said, but all the laughter vanished, and he suddenly seemed incredibly serious. He raised his index finger and began waving it in the air. "It really sucks. I feel so alone. What does it feel like to find the other half of the bed still warm?" he asked with a melancholy sigh.

Minho reached over and took Jihoon's glass. Jihoon was clearly getting drunk, and fast.

"Noo—give it back," Jihoon protested.

"No way. You're completely wasted."

"No, no, I'm fine! I'm just — enjoying the evening. You told me to, right? Jihoon, enjoy the evening!"

"You can enjoy yourself without getting wasted."

"What do you know? Maybe I'm always a mess, and now I'm happier than usual! Did you think of that? No, of course not, you don't think… Give it to me, come on!"

"No." Minho's voice was firm as he kept the cocktail out of Jihoon's reach. "Back to the bed thing. You know what it feels like to find the other half warm, right? So if you miss it so much, why don't you go out with someone?"

"Nooo," Jihoon groaned again, "Why do you say I know? Do I seem like I know? Obviously, I don't — Ah, Minho. I'm really thirsty…"

Minho raised a hand and called the waiter, ordering a lemon soda for Jihoon, who complained again.

"Why can't you follow a simple order?" Minho grumbled.

"I could say the same about you!" Jihoon grumbled back. "You can't deny me alcohol, I'm an adult."

"As long as I'm paying, I can deny you whatever I want."

Jihoon pouted. "I can pay for my own alcohol."

"Here? I doubt it."

Jihoon was pretty sure Minho wasn't lying, so he stopped complaining. When the lemon soda arrived, he started sipping it through the straw, still sulking a bit.

Talking about serious matters with Jihoon in his current state was an exercise in futility. Minho sighed and stretched his legs under the table. He also felt a bit light-headed, but he could handle his alcohol better than Jihoon, it seemed. Staying at the bar was becoming increasingly pointless. It was time to move on to the next step of the plan he'd mentally mapped out a few hours earlier when he had the bright idea of waiting for Jihoon in the alley behind the bar. While waiting, he'd decided what they would do, confident that he could persuade Jihoon to follow him one way or another. And indeed, things had gone that way...

Jihoon was sipping his lemon soda, a slight headache forming from too much alcohol. Usually, he drank lower-alcohol beverages like soju or cheap beers from the supermarket. This quality alcohol was exciting his system but also overloading his mind. Perhaps the sugar was also to blame, but who knew.

"Excuse me?" Jihoon blinked a few times. Minho had just said something, but he had spaced out so much that he hadn't heard a word.

Minho sighed, then repeated, "When you finish your lemon soda, we're leaving."

Jihoon frowned. "Oh, right. You don't need to take me home; if you drop me at the restaurant, I can get my bike..."

"We're not done with the night," Minho explained. "Don't be in such a hurry to get rid of me."

To be honest, Jihoon wasn't upset about it at all. It was the most fun and different night he'd had in years—and it was all free. When would he ever get another chance like this?

"Where do you want to go? And what time is it?"

"Don't worry about either," Minho said with an unusually kind smile. "Do you still have energy?"

Jihoon thought for a moment. He was a bit tired, but he was having fun, and all that enjoyment was giving him an unexpected burst of energy, as if his reserve tank had kicked in. "I can manage."

"Great," Minho said.

As promised, once Jihoon finished his lemon soda, they got up from the table. Minho went to pay for both of them, then came back and slipped an arm around Jihoon's waist. Jihoon felt his cheeks heat up. "What are you doing?!" he demanded, but Minho ignored him, tightening his grip.

"You're wobbling. You don't want to fall on someone, do you?"

It was absurd how all his attention was focused on the spot where Minho's arm and hand were touching him. His heart started racing, and his mind registered unnecessary details like the weight of that grip and the warmth it spread through his shirt.

When they got back in the car, the absence of that arm around his waist was almost unbearable.

"Is it a secret where we're going?"

"Why ruin the surprise?" Minho asked.

"I've never liked surprises," Jihoon countered.

"You'll like this one."

"Are you sure?"

Minho thought about it for a moment, then started the car.

"Hmm. No."