Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Will he pass by again today?

The creature wondered, peering at the passersby from behind the bush's thinning branches.

It was early autumn, and the few leaves still attached to it barely served as a hiding place. Yet that wasn't a concern for he was nearly invisible to the human eye. Tiny as a raindrop, he shimmered in silence.

Every day he would settle on that tree, watching humans wander, unaware of his presence.

He did not belong to their world.

He came from far beyond the stars.

After a long voyage through the cosmos, he had found refuge on the blue planet and chose to remain for a while, at least, but he soon discovered Earth was not build for his kind. He could breathe its air only for twelve hours, past that, his body stiffened, his cells igniting a slow, aching burn.

And still he stayed.

Slowly, he grew used to its life and fell in love with its creature.

He did not possess a true body, his essence mirrored that of water, able to take any shape, color or size. Yet he had never dared to mimic the human form, how could he? He wouldn't  even know where to begin.

He didn't know how to communicate, nor how to nourish himself, let alone live a normal life among them, so he contented himself with quietly watching the inevitable passing of their lives from behind those leaves.

Three moons had passed since he began his quiet watching from the shadows.

There was one person who lingered in his memory, he always passed by at the same hour, a bag in hand, dressed in an elegant uniform. He never knew where he went, nor what the bag held, he only watched quietly, his morning departure and his late return, when he had to drift back into the stars.

That person became the first face he saw at dawn, and the last before vanishing into the dark.

Through him, he also met music.

He didn't undestand it, didn't know its meaning, but he had never heard anything like that in his life. Accustomed to the defeaning silence of space, the sound that reached him felt almost foreign.

The melody, however, left him in a daze. Just a hint of it, through the human's earbuds, stirred something in him, tiny vibrations tingled his senses whenever he passed under that tree, and with each passing day, he fell deeper in love with those songs, unable to resist their pull.

I wonder how it works

He asked himself, swaying gently among the branches.

But then, one day, he didn't come, and the next day he was gone again.

He felt lost.

That human had become his anchor and now, in his absence, the loneliness howled.

He felt again that quiet sorrow, betrayed, abandoned as he once was, by those of his own kind.

He stood on the verge of a crisis, ready to turn his back on the planet, when a fragile scrap of paper drifted past, caught in the leaves of a bush, unfolding a drawing of human shape.

The figure was a bit stylized and weathered, its details blurred by time and elements. A dark, unsettling thought flickered in the creature's mind.

Could he become one of them?

He was weary of his solitude, tired of wandering, with no place in the vast universe. So he chose to replicate the form in the drawing, adjusting the parts he could not decipher, and foolishly materialized atop that tree, carrying the weight of a body the branches could not bear.

He tumbled to the earth, pain radiating through his fragile new form. Branches cut his face and hands. He gasped, unfamiliar with that feeling. He pressed his palm gently to his aching side, as if the warmth of his own touch might soften the pain.

"Hey are you alright? What were you doing up in that tree? " The boy asked gently, sliding the earbud from his ear, his steps light as he approached. But the creature could only gaze up in silence, the words falling around him like rain on stone, meaningless.

He could not answer, nor stand; the weight of that borrowed body held him down. It was quite a sorrow, inhabiting a shape that was not his, each movement a struggle, each breath a foreign sound.

"You didn't hit your head, did you?"

The alien took a step back, fear flashing in his eyes. He hadn't expected that his first encounter would be with him, the human who had stirred such despair in his heart.

The creature shook his head, confused, and tried once more to rise, this time reaching for a nearby pole to steady himself.

"Let me help you." Minho's voice was a quiet plea as he slipped the earbud into his pocket and stepped closer.

The creature glanced around, startled, breath trembling and brought a hand to the stinging in his cheek. He felt a substance wetting the tip of his finger, something like his own, but as he lifted it into the fading light, he saw the difference.

It was red.

"Are you bleeding?" The brown-haired boy asked, his voice soft and hesitant as he edged closer. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable, was he running from someone? 

"Should I call for help? Have someone come for you?" he kept asking, his words lost on the alien who could only feel the pain, the only thing his trembling body recognized.

The boy stopped a few steps away, his eyes filled with a quite sorrow; he looked no older than him, his long, pale hair veiled his face, barely revealing his eyes, large and vulnerable like those of a frightened fawn, trapped between two worlds that were never meant to meet.

"What's your name?" He asked softly, trying to coax at least the boy's name from his lips, but the blonde remained silent, untouched by his words.

"Maybe he can't speak...or perhaps he's foreign...what should I do?" Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair in helpless frustration.

He didn't know sign language and he felt embarassed speaking in english unless absolutely necessary. He tried anyway, whispering words into the empty space between them, but the silence remained unbroken and the alien's silence seemed to grow deeper, more unreachable.

"Damn I'm late...but I can't leave you like this." He muttered, glancing at his watch, his thoughts pulling him in two directions.

A sudden cough startled the alien, who quickly ducked behind the pole, hiding as if it could shield him from the world. Minho pressed his hand over his mouth, struggling to stifle the remnants of his lingering cold, the coughs still rattling in his chest. He had already missed too many lessons because of his illness.

He couldn't afford to stay home again, skipping yet another day. But there he was, frozen in place before a stranger, trying desperatly to communicate, while the minutes slipped away, unnoticed, like water flowing through his fingers.

"My name is Minho." He introduced himself, placing a hand over his chest, trying to gesture in a way that might bridge the silence between them.

"And you are?" He mouthed the letters carefully, pointing to the creature, but the alien only shook his head, lost, unsure of what to do. He felt a sting in his eyes, the unbidden swell of tears.

It was sadness he knew all to well, a sadness that wore many faces, no matter the form. Without a word, the creature turned away, his body trembling, and began to run.

"Wait!" Minho screamed, reaching out, his hand a fleeting gesture toward the boy who stumbled awkwardly, disappearing into the distance, his footsteps echoing down the empty street.

"Should I follow him?" He wondered, but before he could even answer himself, the boy had vanished from his sight.

He realized that following him might only cause more trouble, so with a sigh, he turned and resumed his walk to the university, where his friends were waiting for him at the entrance.

"Feeling better now?" the dark-haired boy asked with a smile, only to receive a bored grimance in reply.

"We missed you." the oldest of the group added with a grin, reaching out to hug him, but Minho quickly stepped aside, causing him to almost stamble into thin air.

"Chan there's no point in trying, you know Minho doesn't like hugs" Changbin teased, his voice laced with amusement.

"Especially yours." Hyunjin added with a smirk.

"But he let's Felix hug him!" Chan muttered, pouting slightly.

"That's because Felix is a cat, just like him" Seungmin interjected, squeezing past them with a stack of books in his arms, cleraly anxious about being late.

Together they made their way into the classroom and took seats that, for the most part, were scattered far apart. Only Chan managed to settle next to the brown-haired boy.

"Are you okay? Still not feeling well?" The oldest asked, glancing at Minho, who sat unusually quiet, his gaze lost in thought.

"Huh? No...I'm fine. Just...thinking"

"About what?"

"I had a strange encounter this morning"

"Oh? Spill"

"Well...I was walking my usual route when someone literally fell from the sky"

"What??"

"I mean.. he fell out of a tree"

"What was he doing in a tree?"

"I have no idea. I went over to check on him, he looked hurt"

"And?"

"...He didn't say a word, like not even one, he didn't seem to undestand me" Minho replied, his voice trailing off, eyes still clouded by the memory.

"Maybe he's a foreigner?"

"That's what I thought too, so I tried speaking english...but nothing changed. Then I wondered if maybe he was deaf or mute but..." Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair. his gaze distant.

"He looked so scared and...sad? He ran off before I could say or do anything else"

"That's really weird.."

"I wanted to follow him, but I'd have missed yet another class...and honestly, I wouldn't have known what to do, he didn't seem very comfortable around me"

"Had you ever seen him before?"

Minho shook his head. "Never..."

"Maybe he just moved here, trying to get used to this place."

"And you think hiding among the trees helps with that?" he raised an eyebrow, a trace of irony painting his words.

"Maybe he was looking for a cat." Chan shrugged, the fell into silence.

The lesson began, and both of them took notes, trying to focus on the professor's voice, but Minho mind wandered, drawn back to what had happened that morning.

That fleeting moment had cracked open the dull rhythm of his days and now it lingered, like a half-remembered dream he couldn't shake.

Would he ever see that boy again?

Chapter Text

His cheek burned with a searing pain, the salt of his tears only deepening the ache. He longed to return to his true form, to escape into the infinite expanse of the stars, but his mind, lost in haze, couldn't gather the strenght to free him.

So he curled into himself, a fragile silhouette in the quite dark, waiting for the storm of anxiety to fade.

The hours drifted by unnoticed, and still he remained there, motionless, his knees tucked to his chest, his back arched in a delicate surrender to the weight of the world.

And then, a cat, soft and gentle, had quietly scaled the wall behind him, and now rested upon his back, purring in a quiet song.

It was not the first time he he seen such a creature but never had one dared to touch him. The sensation of being touched felt like a distant, unfamiliar echo.

The little creature began to knead softly with its paws upon its back, and the boy slowly lifted his head, turning just enough to observe the quiet, almost ritualistic dance the cat performed on his jacket.

He made no sudden movements, afraid to disturb the fragile moment, and stood still, his gaze filled with wonder. There was a strange swelling at the base of his back, moving gracefully through the air, patterns no human skin had evern worn.

The cat slid down from his shoulders, circled him once, and then pressed itself against his trousers, mewing softly.

The alien flinched at first, startled by the unexpected touch, but when he saw the harmlessness in its eyes, he allowed it to linger.

The feline nuzzled its face against his arm, persistent in its quiet longing, purring softly, its body vibrating gently against his own, an unspoken echo of a shared soitude.

A discomfort settled over him quiet, but unmistakable. He couldn't grasp what the creature wanted from him, and that uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his calm.

His thoughts slipped, almost unwillingly, to that human who had once reached out to him in the same way, with words unreturned and gestures left hanging in the air.

Had he felt the same way? That quiet ache of being met with silence?

A soft meow pulled him back.

The alien looked at it for a long moment, unsure of what to do, caught in the stillness between caution and curiosity.

Then, hesitantly, he chose to respond offering something in return for the persistence the little creature had shown him.

He extended a trembling hand toward it, but quickly pulled back, as if the gesture itself might shatter the fragile connection between them.

What would happen if he touched it?

Would he hurt it?

Would it run from him, afraid?

Or would something inside him shift, in a way he wasn't ready to face?

Lost in thoughts, he hadn't noticed that the cat had already reached him, brushing against his hand without asking permission.

The alien felt a strange sensation at the touch of his fur achingly soft, almost unreal. He let his hand rest fully upon the creature's small head, stroking it timidly, slowly growing accustomed to the quiet comfort it offered.

His fingers sank into the gentle fluff, brushing against its delicate ears and a tender smile bloomed across his face.

"Soonie!"

The alien jolted at the sound, startling the animal who slipped away vanishing into the fading light at the edge of the alley,drawn by the soft call of his name.

"Soonie where have you run off again??" There was heaviness in the boy's voice.

"There you are....thanks goodness." He knelt down slowly and his fingers found their way through the pet's familiar fur.

The cat purred gently, as if answering a question never asked, then turned with grace and purpose, padding back toward the shadows of the alley.

Like a guide leading the heart home.

Minho stood there, watching him go.

"And now where are you going?" exhausted, he turned the corner, only to stop in his tracks. The boy from that morning stood there, trapped by the alley's end, with no way to escape.

"It's you.." He whispered, surprised, his gaze lingering, as if the moment itself might vanish. Then his eyes fell to Soonie, who was already rubbing insistently against the stranger once more claiming him, choosing him.

"Seems like Soonie likes you, that...doesn't happen often." He lowered himself slowly, a delicate attempt to bridge the distance, but the blonde recoiled, losing his balance in the process and fell softly to the cold ground.

"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you" Minho took a few step back, shaking his hands, before placing the bag that hung from his shoulders on the ground.

"It's almost like talking to a lost child..." He murmored to himself, unzipping the bag.

"But maybe I have an idea..." He sifted through the books, his fingers brushing past pages, until he drew out a notebook and a pen. With care, he began to write on the blank page, then lifted it slowly, offering it to the blonde-haired boy.

"Minho." He said pointing at himself, his voice warm and steady.

"That's my name. M-i-n-h-o." He spoke again, his words a gentle rhythm, his pen tracing each letter, each sound, as if weaving a delicate thread between them.

There was no rush, no pressure just a patient invitation.

"Soonie" he said, shifting the subject, as he gently placed a hand on his pet's head.

"This is Soonie" he explained with a tender smile, his gaze softening with affection.

The alien looked at him, confused yet intrigued, the sound was clear, but he wasn't sure he could replicate it.

"I'm Minho, he's Soonie, and you?" Minho asked, now gesturing to the creature in front of him. The boy lowered his gaze, studying his own form, before pointing to his chest. Minho nodded eagerly.

"Yes, exactly. What's your name?" He asked again, but the blonde only shook his head.

"This is all so strange...could it be that you don't even know how to read?" He wondered, scratching the back of his neck, confusion settling in.

Could he have been wandering since this morning?

Did he have no home to return to, no one searching for him?

In such a state, it could be dangerous for him to be left alone on the streets.

"Can I come closer?" He asked, taking a careful step forward.

"I won't hurt you." He added, gently setting the notebook on the ground. Then he placed a hand over his chest, a quiet gesture meant to speak the honesty words couldn't hold.

"I just want to help you." his voice fell to a whisper as he slowly approached, and strangely the alien didn't move, not a flinch, not a step back.

It reminded Minho of Soonie, just a moment ago, trusting a stranger without a word. Step by step, Minho closed the distance until they were face to face.

"Look at you...you're hur.t" He murmored, brushing a thumb just beneath the boy's wound a touch light as air. The moment their skin met, the blonde flinched as if the contact had burned.

"I'm sorry....I didn't mean to." Minho said, guilt rushing in as he lowered his head again and again

"But we need to treat that wound...or it'll get worse." He spoke as if the other boy could truly understand.

"I don't know if someone's waiting for you...but I can't leave you like this. Would you come with me?" He offered his hand, open and still, a quiet promise resting in his palm.

The blonde stared at him, lost in thought, his eyes drifting to the outstretched hand and didn't move.

Soonie meowed softly at Minho's feet, rubbing against his legs like a gentle nudge from the earth itself, a reminder that not everything in this world was meant to harm, that perhaps some things could be trusted.

And so, slowly, the boy reached out, his fingers brushing against Minho's.

His hand was warm, not as soft as Soonie's fur, but there still was a quiet comfort holding it. His grip was hesitant, unsure but Minho held on firmly, lifting him to his feet, then gently let go again, afraid to make him uncomfortable.

He bent to gather his things, slipping his backpack onto his shoulders and cradled Soonie in his arms.

Then he began to walk and behind him the boy followed, silent, curious, mimicking his steps, feeling the strange texture of concrete beneath his feet. In his world, he had always floated weightless, he had never needed to lean on anything, never needed to touch.

Everything there was silent, distant, cold. The idea of contact had never existed, nor had pain, but emotions, those had always been with him, even in this human form he still carried anxiety, sadness and a quiet, persistent loneliness.

He tried to open his mouth, to speak but he had no idea what kind of sound might emerge. Perhaps hearing the boy's voice again might help him find his own.

So he reached out a hand, his fingers brushing the edge of Minho's backpack, uncertain how to ask for attention.

Maybe....

He thought he should do what the cat did. He quickened his pace, nearly stumbling, and once he was by Minho's side, he brushed his shoulder against the older boy's.

Minho pulled away instinctively, startled, his eyes wide with confusion.

"What are you-" but then he saw it: that flicker of disappointment in the alien's eyes. A reflection, the very same reaction Minho himself had given when they first met.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to react like that" Minho said gently, holding Soonie a little closer, his voice softer now

"I just wasn't expecting that. Do you need something?"

The boy lifted a hand, pointed at Minho and parted his lips, as if finally, he was trying to shape his name for the first time.

"Minho!" His mother's voice rang out from the balcony above, cutting through the moment.

"Did you find Soonie?"

"Yeah, Mom." He replied, climbing the stairs with the alien trailing behind him.

"Did you bring a friend?"

"Uh...yeah. Can you open the door for us?" He asked, waiting just outside the building's entrance. He turned to check if the boy was still behind him, he was.

When the door clicked open, they stepped inside together.

"I'm sorry Minho, I didn't think he'd run off. I must have left the window open.." His mother said as they entered.

"It's fine, Mom. He doesn't go far. I found him quickly, actually, he helped me" Minho added, glancing at the blonde boy, who stood frozen just inside the doorway.

"Is he a new friend? I don't think I've seen him before." His mother asked, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar boy with curiosity.

"It's a long story...I'll tell you later. But please, don't ask him any questions he's extremely shy"

"Alright" his mother replied with a nod.

"Is he staying for lunch?"

"I think so" Minho said, glancing back at the boy.

"I'm going upstairs to sort a few things. We'll come down after, okay?"

"Sure"

His mother disappeared back into the kitchen and Minho motioned for the boy to follow him up the stairs.

They walked quietly down the hallway, then entered Minho's room.

He dropped his backpack at the foot of the bed and collapsed onto the mattress with a tired sigh, suddenly overtaken by a dry, harsh cough.

The noise was jarring, sudden and unfamiliar, and to the alien, it sounded almost dangerous. His body stiffened with worry, his gaze fixed on the human.

"I was sick recently, sorry" Minho explained, sitting up and covering his mouth with a hand, still a little breathless.

"You can sit down.." he offered, gesturing toward the chair nearby.

"Or...you can sit here" he added, patting the space beside him on the bed. The boy looked at him, but didn't move. He remained standing, still unsure.

"You're weird, I don't get it. It's like you're from another world" Minho let out a quiet laugh as he stood up from the bed and stepped closer to him.

"You can't read, you don't speak and it's like everything around you is brand new.." He spoke more to himself than to the boy, his eyes tracing the figure before him.

"And yet...you're just a regular boy, like me." The words fell from his lips like a quiet surrender.

"Minho, lunch is ready!" His mother called from the stairwell.

"Coming!" He replied, reaching for the boy's arm and tugging gently, a small invitation to follow.

The alien flinched slightly when Minho released his grip, as if the contact had left a strange echo on his skin.

Everything there felt foreign even the way they sat around a table just to eat. Once seated, he stared at the plate in front of him, unmoving.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Minho's mother asked kindly, glancing at the untouched food before the silent guest.

"Maybe he's not hungry.." Minho tried to explain, casting a glance toward the boy beside him.

The blonde tilted his head, mirroring the movement, his eyes locking onto Minho's face, studying him with intensity, trying to undestand the meaning behind that expression.

"Are you sure he's okay?" His mother asked.

"Please, Mom...I need you to trust me on this. I'll explain everything later, I promise" Without waiting for an answer, Minho stood up and gently led the boy out of the kitchen.

"Minho, wait-"

Minho

That sound again. He had heard it again and again. He recognized it now - but still wasn't sure if he could form it himself.

"So you don't eat either...what am I supposed to do with you?" Minho sighed, pacing the room in frustration, his thoughts spiraling.

If he told his mom everything, she would probably insist on calling someone the autorities maybe, but how could he, when he didn't even know the boy's name?

Then, a sound.

"Min..."

Minho turned sharply, eyes wide.

"...ho"

"Min..ho"

It came out like a breath wrapped in trembling, the first shape of a voice not yet used to existing.

Minho froze.

"What did you just say...?"

Chapter Text

"What did you just say?" Minho froze in place, his eyes locked on the blond figure before him.

In three long strides, he crossed the distance between them, the ground vanishing beneath his feet. He grasped the creature gently by the shoulders 

"Did you just say my name? Say it again" Startled by the sudden outburst, the alien recoiled, fear flickering in his eyes.

His retreat forced Minho back two steps, as if the distance between them was meant to remain.

"Forgive me...I got carried away." Minho bowed his head slightly, a gesture of quiet remorse. The blond watched him, curious, not quite undestanding. Then, with a breath softer than a whisper, he spoke again.

"Mi...ho" Minho looked up, and a smile bloomed slowly across his lips.

"It's Minho!" He said it clearly, not to correct, but to teach gently shaping the sound of his name like something precious.

"Min..ho"

"Yes, that it" Minho whispered, eyes shining.

"Just like that." His voice carried warmth, low and tender, not deep enough to be heavy, but soft, like velvet brushed against the skin.

Minho couldn't truly catch its color, the words trembled out of him, fragile and raw, like the cry of a soul tasting air for the very first time.

They scraped lightly along his throat, stirring a strange, delicate tickle, and what followed was a rough, shapeless sound, not a word, not yet, but it held the weight of something trying to be born.

"It feels like when a child says 'mama' for the first time." Minho's laugh was quiet, colored with awe, as he reached toward the creature, his hand open, patient.

The blond glanced down at the gesture, then back up at him, eyes wide with uncertainty.

"Come here. Let me take care of that cut on your face." He didn't repeat himself.

There was no point, he knew the words would drift past him, unheard or misunderstood so he reached out instead, fingers brushing his, and led him wordlessly to the bathroom. He sat him gently on the edge of the bathtub, porcelain cold beneath him.

He poured disinfectant onto a cotton pad, then brushed aside his golden strands revealing the wound. The sting came quickly.

He flinched, breath caught in his throat, and slipped slightly on the smooth porcelain. Minho's hands found his shoulders in time, grounding him, his touch steady, calm.

"I know it hurts...but I'm almost done." His hands moved again softer now, slower, barely grazing the wound. The boy whimpered, eyes shining from the pain he wasn't used to.

"All done." He said at last, placing a small bandage on his cheek.

The alien touched the spot, then rose silently to follow the older boy out of the bathroom. But something made him turn drawn by the mirror, by the quiet weight of a reflection waiting. He stared at the figure staring back, unmoving.

Not recognizing it. Not feeling it as his own.

There was nothing familiar in the shape of that body, in the face framed by someone else's skin. He felt strange. Hollow in a way that language could not soothe.

"You okay?" Minho's voice came softly from the doorway, watching the boy's lost expression.

The blond said nothing, but the furrow of his brows, the tiny wrinkle that creased between them, spoke instead. A sadness, quiet and deep, bloomed just beneath his silence.

Minho felt helpless.

A soft sigh escaped him, but he offered the blonde a gentle smile, one that tried to hold warmth, to offer safety where words would fail.

With delicate fingers, he took him by the wrist and led him quietly to his room. He guided him onto the bed, then turned on the television.

The screen flickered to life, casting light across their faces like a soft aurora. He started up the game console, the familiar hum filling the room, and took the controller in his hands.

"Have you ever played this one?" He asked, though he already knew there would be no answer.

He turned to look at him at the boy sitting still beside him, eyes wide with wonder. There was something almost childlike in his awe, something untouched. He was mesmerized.

The screen danced with color and sound, vivid and alive in a way the world around him never seemed to be. His lips parted slightly, and his eyes never strayed focused so completely, so innocently.

Every time Minho's character was struck or thrown across the map, the blond flinched, reacting with a startled jolt as if the blow had landed on his own chest.

Minho noticed the look in his eyes and smiled to himself, pleased by the way the boy had become so absorbed.

He paused the game, knowing it would stir the alien beside him, who longed to savor just a little more of that strange, bright experience.

"Do you want to try?" Minho asked softly, offering him the joystick, his voice laced with quiet amusement.

The blond looked at him in confusion, eyes wide and uncomprehending.

"I'll show you how it's done." He said, his voice warm, as he pointed to the bright blue X button on the controller.

With a soft press, the character on the screen jumped and Minho mimicked the motion with a grin, hoping the silly gesture would help make the concept clearer.

The alien watched him, bemused. But then, something clicked. He connected the color to the action, pressing the button with tentative fingers. Another jump, another reaction. He flinched slightly, startled by the result, the mattress shifting beneath him.

"Good job!" Minho praised, his voice low with approval, his eyes sparkling.

"Now look, this one's for attacking." He pointed to the red circle on the controller, guiding his hands with a gentleness that felt more intimate than it should.

"If you press it multiple times, you can string together combos." He kept pressing the button, making the character move forward with quick, uncertain steps.

The alien blinked, then followed his example, clumsy strikes cutting through empty space.

"Yes, that's it! Minho said, his voice warm with pride.

"And with this, you can move wherever you want." He reached out slowly, taking the boy's hand with care, and guided his finger to the small joystick. He pressed out forward with him, their hands moving as one.

"Depending on how you tilt it, you can go left...or right." His fingers lingered just a moment longer before slipping away, allowing the other to take control.

"See that one?" Minho asked, pointing toward an enemy figure moving on the distance. "Go closer. Try hitting it."

The alien focused, posture tense, fingers uncertain. He weaved between trees, struggling to keep steady. But slowly, bit by bit, his movements smoothed. There was rhythm now. Precision.

"Yes, that's it, right there!" Minho cheered softly, placing a hand on his arm, his voice filled with excitement.

"Attack him!" He urged him on, fingers tightening gently around the fabric of his hoodie, grounding him, focusing him. The monster was weak and with just three strikes, it vanished into pixels and light.

"See? It wasn't that hard." Minho said with a smile, his voice soft and proud.

The blond looked at the screen, then down at the controller in his hands. Slowly, he turned to Minho, brows slightly furrowed in question.

"What is it?" He asked, following his gaze to where the boy's fingers now hovered above the green triangle button.

"Oh, that one." He said with a small grin, noticing the special attack bar fully charged and glowing.

"It's for a stronger attack." He nodded toward the button, inviting him to press it.

The alien did and immediatly jumped at the brilliant effects that burst onto the screen. Bright flashes, sharp sounds, energy set loose like magic.

" I see you're enjoying this." Minho observed, watching the shifting waves of emotion ripple across the boy's face. It was all so strange, so new like someone seeing a videogame for the first time.

He studied the controller, fascinated by every shape, every symbol. His gaze danced between screen and hands, completely immersed, as if he was discovering a hidden world no one had evere told him about.

Now he was playing with the pink square button.

There was something about the colors, their shape, their pattern that seemed to mesmerize him.

"Mmh, that one? It's used to pick things up." Minho kept explaining, as if the other could truly understand him.

He led him near a patch of soft pink flowers, then pointed to the button that matched their color. When the plant vanished from view, the alien stood up abruptly, visibly confused. Minho burst into laughter at the sight of his reaction, so pure, so unexpected.

"It's yours now. It's kind of like...picking a flower. When you're in a field and you pluck one from the earth..well, it's gone, right?" He paused, then sighed.

"Ah, what am I even saying? You can't understand me..." He shook his head, defeated, and gently motioned for the boy to sit back down on the bed.

Has he really never picked up a flower in his life...?

The thought lingered in Minho's mind as he turned to look at him again. He watched him quietly, the question echoing in the silence between them.

He looked so human, so ordinary and yet, everything about him spoke of something untouched, as if the world had never brushed against him until now. He sat there, still, curious, fragile in his wonder. Mimho's gaze softened.

How could someone who looked so much like him seem so far from everything familiar? He didn't expect an answer, but somehow, just sitting beside him, watching this strange, delicate innocence unfold was enough.

“Min…”

The blond one called out softly, pulling him back to reality. Minho blinked, suddenly aware that he had been staring, too long, too quietly, without noticing what he was even doing. It took him a moment longer to realize the other had spoken, had said part of his name.

“Sorry...what is it?” The alien turned his gaze to the television, pointing at the crimson words flashing on the screen urging a teleport to the nearest location, the whole team had just been wiped out.

“How did you zone out so badly you got yourself killed?” The older one scolded him, but there was warmth in his voice a kind of tender teasing, as he took the joystick from his hands.

They kept playing, and for a few hours, the quiet closeness between them was enough.

Minho showed him a few combos, watched as the other grew more confident, more at ease. He even let him pick the team, introducing each character one by one, learning his preferences through the tilt of his head, the curve of a smile.

Time passed without weight. The sun began its slow descent behind the mountains the perfect moment for a pause, like a shared snack.

“Wait here, I’m going to grab something from the fridge and I’ll be right back”

The alien didn’t answer, but he didn’t move from his spot. He turned toward the window, waiting.

As the darkness began to creep outside, a wave of anxiety washed over him. He felt a tingling sensation crawl up his arms and a sharp pain in his side.

The first symptoms were starting to surface, staying any longer on Earth would only cause him more harm. He stood up from the bed, placing the controller on top of it, and leaned toward the half-open window.

He had done this countless times before, but never from a place like this, never in this form. He just hoped he could transform back and make it to his spaceship.

“Hey, I brought you a dessert that- “ Minho dropped the puddingg from his hands and rushed to the now wide-open window.

Panic hit him like a truck at full speed, and for a brief moment, he feared the alien had jumped from that height, but there was no trace of him, neither outside nor inside the house.

“Mom, have you seen my friend come by here, by any chance?” He asked desperately, making the woman worry.

“No, why?”

“I can’t find him anymore…” He lowered his voice suddenly, imagining the consequences. Maybe it was better not to involve her.

“No, nothing, we were just playing a game!” He lied, forcing a smile.

“Ah, I see. I haven’t seen anyone, no” She smiled and went back to peeling the potatoes.

Minho climbed up to his room, closing the door behind him and stopped to look at the bed, where the other had been sitting just moments before.

The room seemed so much bigger without him, so empty. It felt like he had lived a dream, only to wake up in reality, making him vanish with the blink of an eye.

“How is it possible?" He asked himself, sinking into the bed with a clouded mind, lost in a sea of unanswered questions.

“Why did he run away…? What will he do out there, alone, through the night?” A thousand thoughts churned inside him, each one pulling him deeper into unease.

“But what am I thinking? It’s impossible he doesn’t have a home...surely, he’s gone back to where he belongs” He tried to settle his racing mind, but the boy’s strange presence lingered, an unsettling feeling he couldn’t shake.

Could someone really leave him to wander alone, in those conditions, without care?

That evening, Minho left his food untouched.

“Isn’t it good?” His mother’s voice, soft with concern.

“I thought it was your favorite.”

“Yeah, mom, sorry...I just...I’m not very hungry.” He gave her a faint smile.

“Your friend? I didn’t see him leave, I didn’t even say goodbye, how rude of me.”

“Ah, him…” Minho raised his gaze from the plate, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came, not at first.

“He had to leave quickly...he says goodbye and is sorry.” He lied, the words feeling foreign on his tongue, not knowing what else to say.

He couldn’t quite grasp why the thought of him unsettled him so why it made him turn away from his favourite meal, when he had only known him for such a brief moment.

“Next time, let him stay for dinner”

Minho nodded, the weight of her words sinking deep, and silently rose from the table, beginning to clear it. Perhaps he shouldn’t dwell on it so much, but the image of the boy, his sudden disappearance, clung him like a shadow he couldn’t escape.

That night, Minho couldn’t find rest.

He turned restlessly beneath the sheets, tossing and twisting, unable to find any peace in sleep. His gaze lingered on the ceiling, his thoughts far away, a tired sigh escaping his lips.

The next day, he would forget everything, returning to his daily routine as if nothing had ever happened. He would turn that brief moment of connection into a distant memory and move on with his life.

Or so he thought.

“What are you doing?” He shouted, his eyes falling on a group of boys surrounding someone in the universitycourtyard, pulling them by the hair.

If there was one thing Minho couldn’t bear, it was seeing someone being bullied.

He rushed toward them, intent on frightening them off, breaking up the scene before it went any further, but when he reached them, they didn’t even spare him a glance.

He then shot them a hostile look, before turning his attention to the poor victim; his heart stopped as he noticed the small green bandage on the boy’s cheek and then the unmistakable blonde hair.

He couldn’t believe it.

It was him, the boy from the day before.

Chapter Text

That morning, the alien awoke so utterly disoriented he missed the exact moment he usually descended to Earth, a ritual his body once followed without thinking. In a frantic motion, he flung himself onto the usual branch and after a moment of still focus, his form shifted once more, into that of a human only to fall again, clumsily, from the tree.

He could never quite grow used to the weight of that body, so anchored, so strangely real. Then he hid behind the dumpster, waiting in silence for Minho to pass by, as he always did, like clockwork in a world the alien still didn’t fully understand. Truth be told, he didn’t know how long he was gone.

Perhaps the moment had already passed, perhaps Minho had already walked by, and he simply wouldn’t see him today. He couldn’t remember the way back to what was meant to be his home, and so he let the idea fade before it could even take shape.

Then, as he turned toward the alley, he saw him, Minho, at the far end of the street, just as he always appeared: a grey sweater, clean and soft, a white shirt with the collar arranged just so, a tie knotted to quiet perfection, trousers untouched by a single crease.

Always so faultlessly composed, though the alien had no real standard of comparison, and no true grasp of clothing.

His long hair fell gently along the sides of his face, making it hard to read his expression yet as he passed by, he gave the impression of someone quietly tired.

The alien hesitated for a moment, almost reaching out to stop him, but his hand faltered and withdrew just as quickly. He didn’t understand the needs of humans, nor their rules or rhythms, but in that moment, Minho’s departure felt sacred, like a return to some distant spacecraft that allowed no distractions, no delays and so, he let him go.

Yet curiosity crept in, quiet and dangerous. A strange longing took root to follow him, to see where he vanished to each day, as if it might hold some kind of answer.

He waited until Minho was far enough ahead, then moved, softly hiding behind corners, crouching beside parked cars, pressing himself into the stillness of trees. Passerby looked at him with wary eyes, but no one stopped, no one truly payed him attention.

From behind a plant, he caught the last glimpse of Minho just as he slipped through a doorway. The alien furrowed his brow, stepped forward and froze alone now, in the middle of the street, uncertain whether to follow him or the silence.

He had never seen the Earth beyond the narrow frame offered by the branches of his tree, never walked among so many people, never heard such a flood of noise pressing in from every direction.

Cars rushed past his eyes, a blur of color and movement, pausing now and then to let the humans cross strips of white painted across the road. The only thing separating him from the place Minho had entered were those pale, silent lines. He didn’t know, of course, that humans waited for the signal to turn green before stepping across.

Green.

That color again.

He seemed strangely drawn to it, perhaps because it was the first thing he had seen on Earth, the leaves of that tree cradling his arrival.

He touched the green bandage on his cheek, the same quiet shade and stared at it, lost in thought, until it turned red and horns blared and cars cried out with sharp metallic voices, and he flinched back in terror, heart pounding in a body he barely knew how to hold.

Someone shouted at him, while a group of students across the street laughed, mocking him with loud voices. He couldn’t understand the words, thankfully, but he could feel their weight, sharp and unkind, so different from the tone Minho had once used when speaking to him.

He ran down the street, reaching the university door at last, pushing it open with clumsy force, only to find himself trapped in a current of students flowing past him. He didn’t belong there, not among them.

The feeling pressed hard against his chest, a sudden, suffocating pressure that made his breath catch, his vision narrow. He bolted, rushing away from the atrium, fleeing into what looked like a courtyard garden.

There, hidden beneath a quiet canopy of green, he finally stopped. One hand to his chest, he closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, each inhale fragile. He looked around, frightened. No one was truly paying attention to him and yet, he felt exposed, as if every eye were fixed on him, silent stares of strangers pressing in on all sides and among them, not a single one belonged to Minho.

“Hey, you” a voice startled him.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. That was quite the little scene you made out there.” the boy mocked him, stepping closer with his group trailing behind.

“You don’t know you’re supposed to wait for the green light at a crossing? Where the hell do you even live?” he snorted, his laughter pulling the others into a chorus of ridicule.

The creature stared at them, one by one, taking a slow, frightened step back. He didn’t understand the words but he understood enough.

The tone, the shape of their amusement, it pressed against him like something sharp. He felt cornered even though the courtyard had mostly emptied, students drifting away toward their classrooms, leaving him alone with his new friends.

“Cat got your tongue or what?” one of the boys jeered, giving him a light shove. The blonde didn’t recognize that rough gesture as anything like the awkward kindness Minho had once shown to him. This wasn’t the same.

“Why isn’t he talking?” another asked, turning to the older one.

“Maybe he’s scared. Can’t even get a word out.” he laughed, pushing him again harder this time. The alien stumbled, his back hitting the wall.

He felt stripped bare, defenseless, fragile in a way he didn’t know how to explain. He didn’t know how to protect himself, didn’t know how to run, didn’t know how to be in a moment like this. His legs began to tremble, his eyes filled slowly, silently, with tears.

“What are you, stupid or something?” the biggest of them laughed again, giving his shoulder a small shove, but the alien flinched, pulling away, his eyes wide with a pleading that didn’t need translation.

He just wanted to leave, to disappear.

“Mi...nho” he tried to speak but the word trembled, broken and disjointed, barely escaping his lips, and that only made them laugh harder.

“What did you say?”

“Min….” the blonde tried to say his name, but the sound fell apart before it could take shape.

“This loser can’t even talk” one of them sneered, grinning.

“Let’s just go” another muttered, already bored.

“Wait, what’s this?” the boy stopped, pointing at the small green bandage on the alien’s cheek.

“What are you, a little kid?” the one who seemed to be the leader burst into loud, cruel laughter and as he reached out to touch it, the blonde suddenly reacted raising a hand to shield it, protect it.

“What’s wrong? You that attached to your little band-aid?” the boy’s tone shifted irritated now, annoyed that the touch had been refused.

“I want it. I like it.” he mocked, reaching again, but the creature didn’t yield. This time, he stood firm, guarding that one small piece of himself.

Then, for the first time, he shot him a look not fearful, but frustrated. Quiet defiance. It only made the boy angrier. With a sudden jerk, he grabbed the alien by his long blond hair. The creature whimpered, his fingers slipping away as he let go.

“Hey! You!” a voice cut through the air calling from a distance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the voice came louder now, closer, running toward them.

“Don’t you see it for yourself?” the bully sneered, pointing at the boy caught in his grasp. Minho recognized him immediately, and his voice broke somewhere deep in his throat before it could even escape his lips.

It was him, the boy he had met the day before, the same one who had vanished without a trace.

“Let him go” the brown-haired boy warned, stepping forward without fear.

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do?” the tallest one shoved him back.

“I’ll call the professor” Minho said without blinking. He wasn’t afraid of these bullies, but he knew he couldn’t fight them alone if things got worse.

“You won’t even get the chance to.” the bully laughed grabbing Minho’s wrist.

“Minho, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Chan asked, running up behind him, sensing the tension in the air. The moment Chan arrived, the bully let go.

“It’s Chan…” they whispered to each other, alarmed, then scattered quickly, dragging the alien to the ground. Minho ran to the blonde, who recoiled in fear, refusing to let him touch.

“Hey..it’s me, Minho.” his voice soft and cautious. The creature recognized it and tears welled up his eyes. He felt an overwhelming need for protection, something that, in human language, might have translated itself as an embrace.

“It’s okay now…” Minho whispered, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t want to get too close, afraid that too much physical contact might overwhelm him. He still didn’t know how the boy would react.

“Min…” the boy nodded.

“Yes, it’s me. It’s alright” he reassured him again, offering his hand. The alien took it weakly and Minho helped him back to his feet. Meanwhile Chan had clicked his tongue in irritation at the bullies and was now approaching the two.

“Are you both okay?”

“I think so” Minho answered for them both, his eyes scanning the boy’s body for any signs of bruises. There was a new one on his arm but maybe it had come from the fall the day before.

“How did you even get here..?” he then asked, his tone somewhere between scolding and gentle concern. The creature lowered his gaze, somehow understanding that he had done something wrong.

“And...who is he, exactly?” Chan asked, confused, looking back and forth between them.

“I’ve never seen him on campus before”

“Uhm…” Minho turned toward him, scratching the back of his neck.

“You remember that guy I told you about?” Chan looked at him, growing more and more confused.

“The one who fell out of the tree….”

“Ahhh he’s the one??” he shouted in surprise, pointing at the blonde. “What’s he doing here?”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to figure out…” Minho replied, glancing back at the boy, who still hadn’t let go of his hand.

“Chan, I really need to talk to you about this whole situation.” his expression had turned serious and the older boy began to worry.

“Sure. Let’s find somewhere quiet so you can explain everything”

Once the three of them found an empty classroom, they shut the door and gathered around the teacher’s desk.

“Are you two….together?”

“What? No!!” Minho’s voice shot up in surprise, completely caught off guard by the question.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with liking boys, you know”

“Chan!” Minho hissed, his face burning with embarrassment.

“What? I’m your friend, you don’t need to be scared of me”

“That’s not it!! I’ve barely known him for a day, for god’s sake!”

The blonde turned toward Minho, sensing his rising anxiety, though he didn’t understand a word of what was being said. Still, the way Minho’s face flushed a soft red that he could see.

“If you’d just let me talk, I could explain” he placed a hand on his forehead, already exhausted and he hadn’t even started yet.

“You could say something too, you know, defend yourself. I swear, I don’t bite.” Chan said, finally addressing the alien. The boy blinked at him, confused and silent.

“Why’s he looking at me like that?” he asked, puzzled.

“I told you he doesn’t speak.” Minho sighed, turning his gaze back to the creature.

“Look at him, Chan. He doesn’t just not talk, he doesn’t even understand what we’re saying and I know what you’re probably about to say, that it’s a language barrier, but I’m telling you, it’s not that.” his words drew Chan’s full attention now

“Whatever he sees, it’s like it’s for the first time, you know? When we met, he was terrified. I tried writing my name in a notebook but it seemed like he couldn’t even read. He doesn’t know what a phone is, doesn’t have one. No ID, nothing. I even showed him a video game, he didn’t know how to use a joystick. Isn’t that...weird?” he said it all in one breath.

“It’s definitely weird…” Chan agreed, leaning slightly to get a better look at the boy, who instinctively stepped back, suddenly self-conscious. Chan studied him for a moment, trying to speak, to connect somehow but received nothing in return.

“And yesterday, after I brought him home he just disappeared. Vanished.”

“Vanished? What do you mean?”

“Yeah...I went downstairs to get something to eat, and when I came back, the window was open. He was gone.”

“But your room’s on the second floor”

“Exactly. That’s what I don’t get either…”

“This kid is a mystery…” Chan murmured, eyeing him with growing curiosity.

“I don’t know what to do. Is it really possible he doesn’t have anyone? That no one’s looking for him? If I took him to the police….what would happen to him?” a thousand questions spun in Minho’s head each one unanswered, and each more unsettling than the last.

“But what if something’s wrong..?” Chan said softly. “What if he ran away from home and someone out there is desperately looking for him?”

Minho turned toward the blonde, who looked back at him in silence.

“You’re right...maybe I should take him there”

“I think that’s the best idea. Let me know if anything happens” he replied, then covered for Minho, telling the professor he was feeling unwell. He promised to take notes for him too.

“Are you okay?” Minho asked, turning to the boy beside him, noticing how distant his expression had become as though his mind had slipped somewhere unreachable.

“Right...you wouldn’t be able to answer me anyway.” he sighed. “But why did you come there…?” his voice trembled, tinged with quiet concern. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt”

He searched for the boy’s eyes, desperate for something, anything, in return. The alien looked at him and Minho noticed it: a flicker of sadness, deep and still, hidden in his gaze.

Had he done something wrong?

“It doesn’t matter now...you’ll be safe” Minho whispered, stopping in front of the police station. “We’ll find your family and you’ll go back home”

The blonde stared at the building, counting the windows in silence. Minho had to tug gently on his sleeve to get him to move, but as they stepped forward a seed of doubt began to settle in his chest.

Wasn’t this the only option he had?

or…

was it?

Chapter Text

Minho had begun to truly regret that choice.

The blond boy sat still, uneasy, his eyes tracing the endless motion of people passing by, a river of lives he did not know. Now and then, his gaze slipped to the brown-haired boy whose arms gestured with a passion that bordered on desperation.

“No..I’m telling you, this isn’t a joke. I found this boy wandering the streets he doesn’t speak, he has no ID and I have no idea how to get him home.”

He looked exhausted. He pointed at the alien again and again and with each motion, the officer’s eyes flicked towards him, measuring, suspecting.

“Can you help me or not?”

Minho had always been a calm soul, patient, gentle, someone who avoided conflict, who spoke softly, if at all.

But now, faced with cold stares and quiet accusations, he felt the ground shift beneath him. How could they think this was a prank? A childish trick, crafted like some mischief born out of boredom?

The man finally stood, reluctantly and gestured for the blond to follow. But the alien, still seated, still silent, did not move, as if his body had anchored itself to that chair.

“He doesn’t understand, I told you...let me handle it.” The older one’s voice grew sharp as he stepped closer to the blond. Sensing the tension radiating from him, the boy shrank back into the chair, frightened, like a cornered animal.

“I’m sorry...it’s not you I’m angry at.” As soon as Minho’s voice softened, the blonde relaxed and allowed the other to take his hand, a gesture that was slowly becoming familiar, almost instinctive.

And yet, he still couldn’t explain it: that strange warmth that bloomed inside him every time their skin touched.

They entered the room together, accompanied by the officer, who asked them to wait for a few moments while he prepared the machine. Minho turned to the blond, offering him a small, gentle smile as if to say: everything will be fine. But the alien didn’t know what smiles were for.

To him, they were simply odd shifts in expression, curves of lips that made humans look softer, kinder, perhaps. He didn’t understand why Minho smiled at him so often, or why those other boys had looked at him with eyes full of contempt. Humans were so complicated.

“It’s ready.” They were interrupted by the man, who returned with the fingerprint scanner, placing it on the desk with a soft thud.

“You need to place your thumb here and hold it still.” He explained, his voice flat from routine. But the alien only responded with a blank, distant stare, eyes like open sky, yet unreadable.

The man turned toward Minho, who merely lifted his shoulders and gave a slight shake of his head, as if to say I told you so.

“Like this.” The man said, taking the alien’s hand and gently, but firmly, guiding it toward the scanner. But there was something in that touch, a hint of coldness, a flicker of frustration and the alien felt it. Felt it like a jolt.

He pulled his hand back, frightened.

“I didn’t think taking fingerprints would be this difficult.” The officer muttered with a sigh, letting it go. He didn’t want to use force, not with him, not tonight. He had no energy left to be angry at boys who looked more lost than guilty.

The alien stared at the machine, afraid. It was nothing like the technology he knew, cold, unfamiliar, its purpose a mystery.

He didn’t know what it would do to him and yet, seeing Minho calm by his side had almost been enough to convince him. He still remembered that moment, Minho’s furrowed brow, the tension in his posture, the sharpness in his voice when he’d confronted the humans who had been bothering him.

For a moment, he hadn’t recognized him. He’d even felt a flicker of fear. Maybe, he thought, Minho changed when he sensed danger just like he did. When fear made him run.

“Look.” Minho’s voice cut softly through his thoughts, drawing his gaze. The brown-haired boy placed his own thumb on the scanner, holding it still for a few seconds until the computer let out a faint beep, a sound of completion, of harmless function.

"It doesn’t hurt.” He lifted his hand and showed it to him, unharmed, fingers steady, unmarked. The alien looked at the thumb, then the scanner, then back at Minho.

“It’s not dangerous, you can trust it.” Minho spoke as if the words mattered, even knowing how useless they might be. Still, he hoped, hoped that maybe, his voice alone could be enough to quiet the fear lingering in those unfamiliar eyes.

“Do you want me to help you?” Minho asked, his fingers just barely brushing the alien’s hand, a touch so gentle it made him turn, his expression unreadable.

If that invitation meant being taken by the hand, if it meant feeling that strange warmth spread through his palm again, then the alien didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t resist.

He silently admitted to himself that he still preferred Soonie’s soft fur, but there was something about Minho’s hands, their warmth, that made him feel accepted. Wanted, so Minho took him gently by the wrist and guided his hand toward the scanner, placing his finger on the surface. The blond closed his eyes shutting out the world in front of him, as if blocking the sight could keep away the panic another alien device might bring.

Minho watched him in silence, then placed a hand behind his back, a quiet reassurance. It was the longest minute of his life. He didn’t even know what the test was for.

What if it was dangerous? What if it was meant to control him somehow? What if it changed something inside him?

A thousand doubts swirled in his mind, whispers growing louder. But the memory of Minho doing it first, calm, unharmed, kept the fear at bay.

“...That’s strange.” The officer muttered.

“What is it?” Minho asked, concern rising in his voice.

“The scanner didn’t find any match in the database.” What the officer didn’t know was that the boy didn’t belong to that world and he certainly didn’t have real fingerprints. The machine simply couldn’t read what wasn’t human.

“Maybe...maybe he didn’t place his finger right.” Minho tried, searching for a reasonable explanation. But the man shook his head.

“Impossible. He held it there for minutes. The system found nothing...where did you say you found him?” Minho swallowed. Maybe bringing him to the police hadn’t been such a good idea after all. He had only wanted to help to find his family, to bring him home.

“I met him on the street…” he said softly. The tension in the room thickened and the alien could feel it. It pressed on him like a storm cloud, heavy and quiet.

“He could be anything….I’m going to need to keep you here a little longer.” The officer admitted, then added more firmly: “Wait here.” He left the room, the door clicking soft behind him.

The blond looked completely lost like a frightened animal, a pup who’d strayed too far from the path and couldn’t find the way back.

“We’ll figure it out...you’ll see.” Minho tried to comfort him, forcing a smile he hoped would ease the weight settling in the alien’s chest.

“I need to register him somehow, so we’ll take some photos and proceed with facial recognition.” The officer explained as he returned, before ushering them into a different room.

The creature struggled to keep their quick pace, his steps uncertain, his gaze flickering nervously. He kept his eyes low, staring at his feet, trying to avoid meeting the eyes of the people they passed. He only lifted his head when he bumped into Minho’s back.

He hadn’t noticed they had stopped in front of a door, too caught up trying to escape the world swirling around him. Minho turned around, asking softly if he was okay. He knew he wouldn’t get a reply but he didn’t need one. He could read everything in those deep, unsettled eyes.

“Alright, I need him to stand in front of the wall and stay still. Do you think you can explain it to him?” The officer took his place behind the camera, adjusting the lens.

Minho wasn’t sure he could, but he walked him over anyway, gently guiding him to the wall. He placed his hands on his shoulders and helped him rest against the cold surface. The chill against his back made the creature flinch, his face twisting into a grimace, another sensation he didn’t know how to name, but already knew he didn’t like.

“You have to stay here just for a moment” Minho said gently, attempting to step away. But the alien followed him.

Minho guided him back to his place, trying once more to make him understand what was happening. By the third time, the officer lost his patience, his voice rising just enough to frighten the creature, who shrank against the wall, small and trembling.

“I’m right here, it’ll be over in a second, I promise” Minho murmured reassuringly, placing a finger under the blond’s chin and lifting his face.

“You need to look straight ahead, or they won’t be able to get a proper photo.” His golden eyes locked with the creature’s dark ones. That soft touch on his skin burned like fire, a strange, tingling heat left a mark without leaving a trace.

The creature watched as Minho stepped away, his lips parted in confusion. Minho positioned himself behind the officer, hoping the blond would naturally look in that direction and he did.

The officer finally managed to take a photo, but as soon as the flash lit up the room, the alien flinched violently, collapsing to the floor with a whimper, curling in on himself, small and shaken. Minho rushed to his side at once, running a soothing hand across his back, before turning sharply toward the man.

“I don’t want to jump to dark conclusions, but the fact that he doesn’t speak, has no identity, and seems terrified of everything...it almost makes me think he’s been abused his whole life. Maybe even sold by his family before he was even registered anywhere.”

The words came too easily from the officer’s mouth. Maybe he was used to such horrors, maybe he’d seen them too many times. But for Minho, the thought alone twisted his stomach into knots and clenched his heart in a cold, merciless grip.

Suddenly, everything began to make kind of terrible sense. Maybe that’s why the blond had been hiding in that tree. Maybe that’s why he looked so utterly afraid of the world.

“Perhaps we should run some tests at the hospital just to confirm where he might be from, while we continue searching the databases for a match.” The officer added with a tired sigh.

Minho turned his eyes back to the blond, still trembling under the gentle weight of his hand. He wished, desperately, that he could pull him into an embrace, tell him it was going to be okay but he couldn’t. Not only because the boy wouldn’t understand, but because Minho didn’t want to scare him even more.

So he did the only thing he could. He stayed by his side, quiet and steady, his hand moving slowly across his back, offering comfort from a careful distance.

“I understand...I’ll take him there tomorrow. Right now doesn’t feel like the right time.” Minho replied softly, helping the blond to his feet.

“Alright. Wait just a moment outside while I prepare a few documents to sign.”

Minho guided the alien out of the room and had him sit beside him on a bench in the corridor. His face was pale, drained, his gaze lost somewhere far beyond the walls.

“We’ll find a way…” Minho whispered, brushing a long strand of blond hair from his face. The creature turned towards him, his eyes seemed to carry a thousand words but what passed between them was only silence. Long, heavy silence.

More than half an hour slipped by. They had been kept waiting so long that the sunset had crept up without warning.

The day was folding in on itself. The alien began to feel something sting beneath his skin, a sensation he couldn’t place, a discomfort that grew sharper with every passing minute.

He didn’t know what time it was, but his body did. It knew something was wrong. Pain bloomed across his chest, a searing jolt that stole his breath. Instinctively, he reached out, clinging to Minho’s hoodie with trembling fingers. Minho turned to him sharply, worried, his heart stuttering at the sudden grip.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, alarmed, as he watched the blond struggle to breathe.

“Hey...what’s happening?” His voice grew sharper with worry as the grip on his hoodie tightened, but before he could call out to anyone, the alien broke into a sudden, clumsy run down the corridor.

Minho didn’t hesitate he rushed after him, weaving past guards, nearly tripping over his own feet. He burst through the doors of the station, but outside, there was no one.

“Please...not again..” he whispered, eyes scanning the street in a rising panic.

“Wait – kid!” A voice called behind him, the officer trying to stop him, but Minho was already gone, sprinting down the steps.

“I can’t believe he vanished...he runs so fast..” Minho muttered breathlessly, bent over, hands on his knees, trying to breathe.

“Where could he have gone...and why did he run?” He cursed softly between one gasp and the next, guilt crawling up his spine.

He searched the neighborhood again and again for over an hour ducking into shadowed alleys, peering behind dumpsters, checking every narrow corner and hidden space.

But there was no sign of the blonde. Not even a trace.

The guilt gnawed at him: for not watching closely enough, for bringing him to the police and putting him through so much. That final, desperate look the boy had given him, it haunted him now. He hadn’t done anything to help, and now, who knew where he had gone?

Alone. Again.

“Maybe...maybe he runs away during the day and is forced to return home at night…” he tried to convince himself, but the weight on his chest refused to lift.

He returned home two hours later, completely ignoring the police station where he was supposed to sign the papers. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to go back there. He wasn’t even sure about the hospital anymore.

It was strange no one had come looking for that boy, he just wandered alone in that state.

Everything felt absurd and Minho didn’t want to be a part of that story. Not like that. He didn’t want to “help” if it meant uncovering a life full of pain and tragedy. If that was the prize for doing the right thing, he’d rather hide him in his room, keep him safe. It was a reckless thought, he knew, his mother would never agree to it.

But the more he remembered those deep, silent eyes, the more his heart whispered the same thing over and over: protect him.

Minho skipped dinner, collapsed onto his mattress, exhausted. A coughing fit stirred in his chest again, but he crawled under the covers, trying to sleep.

Sleep, however, did not come easily. The night dragged on, carried by the weight of nightmares.

“Minho….” A voice. Soft. Distant. It echoed through his dream, calling him back. On the third time, he opened his eyes, his breath catching, his heart racing. He was in his bed, safe. He sighed and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

“What is it?” He groaned.

“There’s someone at the door.” His mother said, a little unsettled. Minho paled, he feared it was the police.

She couldn’t know, she mustn’t know anything. He begged her to stay back, to say nothing, to wait, then rushed downstairs. He checked that she wasn’t near the entrance, then, with his heart pounding in his ears, he flung open the door. What he saw wasn’t what he’d expected.

He had prepared apologies, excuses for fleeing the station, lies to cover up his mess. But they all melted away in an instant.

There he was, the boy, standing in the soft light of early morning.

Without a second thought, Minho closed the distance between them and wrapped him up in a desperate, aching embrace.

Chapter Text

Minho wrapped the alien’s body in his arms, holding on tenderly to the fabric of his hoodie, his hands sinking into its softness. He rested his chin on his shoulder, clutching him close as if afraid he might slip away once more, like grains of sand between his fingers. The blond stood still, rooted to the spot, trying to decipher the meaning of that embrace. Minho’s body was warm, gentle almost like the strange creature that had brushed against him only a few days before. Something inside his chest beat with a slow, eternal rhythm, echoing against his ribs.

“Where have you been…?” asked the elder, pulling back just enough to look at his face, breaking the contact for fear of frightening him. “I couldn’t find you anywhere…” he whispered, holding him by the shoulders, his eyes searching the blond’s frame for wounds or bruises.

“I was… I was worried,” he admitted, a faint sigh escaping his lips as his gaze fell on yet another scratch across his face. He prayed in silence that it was nothing more than coincidence, and not one of the dark conclusions his mind had begun to draw. “Come inside… it’s cold out here,” Minho murmured, guiding him gently into the house with a soft push on his shoulder.

The alien shrank into himself, smaller than he already was, and followed him in. Soonie greeted the blond by brushing against his legs, meowing without pause.

“He really likes you, doesn’t he…” Minho smiled tenderly, crouching down to scoop the little creature into his arms. “Come on, let’s bring him to the room with us,” he said, leading the way. The other, hesitant yet obedient, mirrored his steps.

They climbed the stairs, and once more, after walking down the familiar corridor, they entered Minho’s room. For a moment, silence reigned between them, until Minho gestured for him to sit on the bed.

Unlike him, Minho settled into the chair with the cat curled in his lap, his gaze lingering on the alien across from him, watching, contemplating. The blond’s eyes spoke in place of words: confusion, fear, and a touch of melancholy.

Soonie leapt down and padded over to the younger one, jumping onto the bed to keep him company. He rubbed against his arm, purring, before climbing into his lap and pressing his little head against his chest. The blond lifted his hands uncertainly, unsure whether to touch him, lowering his gaze to the small creature perched on his thighs.

Soonie meowed again, insistent in his plea for affection. The alien felt those sounds as a strange, unknown request. The last time he had tried to touch him, he had pulled away in fear of hurting him. Yet Soonie had returned, stubbornly claiming that timid contact.

Minho’s furrowed expression softened, and a smile bloomed across his face at the tender sight: the blond had finally laid a hand on Soonie’s small head, stroking him. His touch was so delicate, it seemed as though he feared he might break him. Minho leaned his elbow against the desk behind him, his palm pressed to his cheek, and lost himself in watching the two of them nestled against each other.

The alien grew slowly accustomed to the movement, to the sensation of running his fingers through the cat’s soft fur; it was satisfying, soothing, and he found himself wearing an expression he hadn’t even known he was capable of. When Minho saw that smile bloom across his face, his own heart skipped, thundering faster in his chest.

“Where have you been until now…?” he whispered, unable to fathom how someone his age could seem so unfamiliar with the world. The alien lifted his gaze, sensing those fragile words, and at last their eyes met, amber against uncertain light. Minho sighed, pushing himself up from the chair, and pointed a finger toward the pair.

“Soonie, keep an eye on him. I’ll go get something to eat,” he said, as if the cat could truly carry out his command. “And you, don’t you dare move,” he warned, his voice sharper than usual.

The alien flinched, pulling back and clutching the cat to his chest, using him unconsciously as a shield. Minho gave him one last look before dashing out of the room, intent on bringing him the pudding from last time. He flew down the stairs so fast he nearly stumbled three times. Breathless, he returned, closing the door behind him with a sigh of relief.

“Good thing I made it in time…” he murmured, still catching his breath. The younger tilted his head in confusion. With two little cups in hand and a pair of spoons, Minho sat beside him. He offered one box with a tilt of his head, but the alien hesitated, preferring to keep his hands buried in Soonie’s warm fur.

“I promise you, it’s delicious,” Minho coaxed, shaking the container gently so the jelly quivered within. “But if you don’t like it… well… I suppose I can live with that,” he admitted, a rare hint of difficulty in his voice.

The blond’s eyes flickered to his, then lingered curiously on the colorful treat. After a long moment, he reached out, lifting the small cup to study it intently, turning it in his hands before bringing it closer to his face.

Minho stifled a laugh at the sight, then opened his own cup, instantly greeted by the sweet scent of caramel. The alien watched and tried to imitate him, fumbling clumsily with the tab, nearly spilling it over himself.

Gently, Minho took it from his hands, peeled back the cover, and returned it to him, passing him a spoon with an encouraging nod. He dipped his own spoon into the quivering jelly and raised it to his lips, savoring it as if for the very first time. A hum escaped him as he closed his eyes, his arms gesturing wide in exaggerated delight, as though each taste was ecstasy itself. The alien looked at him, then back at his own dessert, eyeing it with quiet suspicion.

What would become of it once swallowed? What if his body rejected it? What exactly was it, and why did humans need such things?

A flood of questions stormed through his mind, only to dissolve into silence the instant he lifted a spoonful to his lips. What followed was nothing but emptiness. He felt the gelatinous substance move within him, but no taste, no scent reached him. It was like eating air. Curiosity, rather than pleasure, drove him to try again, yet nothing changed.

“So?!” Minho asked, his voice bubbling with excitement as he turned toward him. “Do you like it?”

The alien shrugged, his eyes drifting to Minho cheeks puffed, expression brimming with delight as he savored every bite. He seemed so blissful that the blond could almost imagine tasting it too, swept up by his joy.

Before he realized it, his own pudding was gone, and he turned instinctively toward Minho, as if seeking approval. Minho had been watching him all along. He’d finished his own in a flash, devouring it, and lingered only to study the other’s every reaction.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said warmly, reaching out to brush away a trace of cream from his lips. The alien froze, neither resisting nor recoiling, the touch was too soft, too serene.

“You had a little something,” Minho explained casually, turning his attention to the cat, who had now found a safe haven in the alien’s lap. His hand drifted to scratch the little ears, his body leaning gently against the other’s. They stayed like that, in silence, for several long minutes.

“Min…” the alien whispered at last, making the elder turn his head sharply.

“What is it?” Minho asked, searching his eyes for answers that words refused to give. The blond glanced toward the television, then back to him.

“Huh? You want to play?” Minho blinked in confusion. The alien didn’t respond, but his gaze lingered on the joystick resting on the desk, his intent clear enough. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” Minho sighed, rising from the bed and startling Soonie with his movement.

“First you run, then you follow me, then you vanish, then I drag you to the police and you escape again, then you come back and the first thing you want to do is play?” His tone wasn’t annoyed; it was amused, incredulous, tinged with affection. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, met only by the other’s lost expression.

Minho handed him the controller and, under that pretext, tried to teach him a word.

“Pink. P-i-n-k” he said, pointing to the square button.

“Pi..n” the blond stammered, struggling to imitate him.

“Yes, almost! pink, with the final 'k’ Pin-k!” Minho encouraged, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Pin…k,” he repeated haltingly.

“Yes, again!”

“Pink…” This time the word flowed more naturally. Minho leapt from the bed in triumph, startling the poor cat.

“Perfect! You’re amazing,” he praised, smiling wide.

The alien looked at him in silence, as if turning something over in his mind.

“Pi...nk Minho…,” he said, stringing together the only two words he knew. Minho’s eyes sparkled as though he had just won a lottery ticket. Emotion swelled in his chest before spilling into laughter. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could really teach him to speak. While the blond played, Minho began scribbling the entire alphabet into a notebook, determined to make him memorize it all before the day was done.

“No more games, or your eyes will hurt,” he scolded lightly, pausing the match and slipping the controller from his hands. The alien frowned, wordless, then rose and followed his steps as he returned to the bed. This time, Minho carried a notebook much like the one he had once shown in his first attempt to bridge the distance between them.

“Well then,” Minho began, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, the notebook placed between them. “You have to repeat after me, letter by letter, okay?”

The blond tilted his head in confusion but copied him, folding his legs the same way and leaning forward to study the tiny symbols etched onto the page.

“I’ll say them one at a time,” Minho warned, clearing his throat. “Are you ready?” he asked one last time, though he knew no answer would come, before pronouncing the first letter: A.

The alien’s head tipped to the side, uncertainty swimming in his dark eyes as he studied the page. He had heard that letter before, so repeating it came easily. The difficulty began afterward, when the letters multiplied. They spent the whole morning bent over that notebook, Minho teaching patiently, his voice steady and warm, and the alien stumbling over the sounds, trying again and again, mistakes spilling from his lips.

“a, b, c… l, m…” he attempted, stringing them together, until Minho stopped him gently and made him start over.

“You’re doing great, don’t worry,” the elder encouraged, afraid the other might grow restless, but to his surprise, he never gave up. He tried, and tried again, never defeated by failure. Anyone else would have quit, consumed by frustration, perhaps flinging the notebook away but not him. For his part, Minho, too, was not one to lose patience. He never tired of repeating each letter with him.

“Try writing my name,” he suggested, handing him the pencil. The alien held it curiously, setting it to paper, leaving a dark trace of graphite before snapping the tip and flinching.

“Ah… not so hard. You just have to brush the page,” Minho explained, sharpening it again before guiding the blond’s hand across the paper. “Like this, see?” he said softly, releasing his hand, ignoring once more the fact that the other had no real grasp of how a pencil worked.

The alien scribbled at first, then paused, carefully observing the letters and beginning to understand their form. He started with an M, recalling its sound in his mind, followed by an I, then an N.

“Min…” he whispered, lifting his gaze from the page to find Minho’s eyes fixed on him.

“That’s right…” Minho breathed, lips parting as if to say more, caught for a moment in the depths of his gaze. “But something’s still missing…” he added, shaking his head lightly, returning his focus to the page, his finger tracing the letters, brushing against the other’s hand.

The alien looked at him in puzzlement, then added an O, drawing a smile from Minho.

“There should be an H before that,” he suggested, taking the pencil and adding the missing letter. The blond studied the page intently, then tried again, this time shaping the word fully.

“Minho.”

A strange flutter stirred in his stomach when he heard the blond pronounce his name. His voice was slowly taking shape; low and husky, still imperfect, still hesitant yet so warm, so sweet.

“Yes… good,” Minho smiled again, only for his mother to burst into the room, startling them both.

“Ah, Minho, sorry! I didn’t know you had invited a friend over. You could have told me!” she scolded gently, her eyes darting from one to the other.

“Sorry, Mom… we were studying, and I forgot to mention it,” he lied, scratching the back of his neck, catching the other’s gaze, uncertain and restless.

The alien had instinctively snatched the notebook from the bed the moment the door had flung open, clutching it to his chest as a shield. It was a reflex he had learned after his last experience.

“All right, but it’s almost lunchtime, and I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll eat outside,” Minho said quickly, standing up and deciding on the spot.

“Oh, good then. I’ll leave you be,” she smiled before closing the door.

Minho exhaled in relief, then turned to him with sudden laughter. He didn’t even know why his mother’s sudden entrance had made him so nervous, it wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong. “Well, I think we’ve studied enough. Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested, holding out his hand.

The blond still hugged the notebook against his chest, looking puzzled. Minho stepped closer to help him up, but the alien didn’t release his grip.

“You want to bring it with you?” Minho asked, amused, waiting for a gesture as an answer.

“All right then, let’s go,” he agreed, pulling gently at his arm, until he realized he was still in his pajamas.

“Oh, right… maybe I should change first, what do you think?” he laughed awkwardly, embarrassed. “Just… don’t look, okay?” he pleaded pointlessly. He knew the other couldn’t understand, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave him alone in the room, not with the fear that he might vanish again. Taking a deep breath, he approached the alien, placed his hands on his shoulders, and turned him toward the wall.

“Stay like this, please…”

The blond let himself be guided without protest, but instinctively turned back, only to be gently redirected again, Minho’s hand pressing softly against his cheek. “Please,” he whispered, his voice carrying a tone unlike any before. The alien stilled, unsettled by the sudden change in atmosphere.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Minho added, letting his hand slip from his face as he stepped away to choose his clothes. He did feel safe around him, safer than he had ever expected, but not safe enough to banish his anxieties. The alien stared quietly at the wall, tracing the cracks in its surface, until his eyes caught a small creature in the farthest corner: a spider, balancing on its delicate, transparent web.

“All done,” Minho’s voice pulled him back, fingers tapping lightly on his shoulder. “Ta-daa!” he announced proudly, showing off his outfit.

The blond turned slowly, blinking, while Minho offered a faint smile before lowering his gaze to the tips of his shoes.

“Thanks for not turning around…” he murmured, his words so fragile that they left a strange ache in the alien’s chest. Without thinking, he stepped closer and brushed his shoulder softly against Minho’s.

“What…” Minho’s voice caught in his throat, but before he could finish, the blond rested his head against his chest, listening to the quickened rhythm of his heart.

Chapter Text

Minho was completely taken aback by that gesture, frozen in place, unable to react. He knew that boy was unpredictable, but he never expected him to seek physical contact, he had never done that before. On the contrary, he always seemed so scared and distant whenever someone got close. The alien pressed his face gently against Minho’s chest, his soft hair tickling his chin and making him smile. His cheeks flushed pink, and his eyes darted everywhere except at him.

“Are… you okay…?” Minho asked, embarrassed, feeling his heart race uncontrollably. The blond moved back slightly at the sound of his voice, looking up at him with his wide, dark eyes fixed on the human.

“What… is it? Are you not feeling well?” The older one tried to understand, avoiding eye contact, unable to maintain it with that adorable creature. The alien didn’t understand, but he sensed the tension in Minho’s words and finally stepped away from his body, still clutching the notebook as if it were a comfort.

“Min…” He murmured, raising a finger toward Minho’s chest, touching the spot where his heart wouldn’t stop racing. Minho took his hand and gently moved it aside, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

“It’s nothing… let’s go.” He pulled him along, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the moment. He guided him to the door, holding his hand, and as soon as they stepped outside, he let go, his heart still desperate to calm down. Clearing his throat, he gestured for the alien to follow him.

In silence, they crossed the street, the sound of cars echoing behind them. The alien, unused to the city’s noise, flinched at every sudden sound, clinging to Minho’s hoodie. Noticing this, Minho adjusted their route, taking quieter streets. Along the way, he showed the alien different things, trying to teach him their names. Finally, they stopped in front of a garden. Minho crouched down by the grass and picked a daisy.

“See? That’s what happens when you press that pink button.” He explained, standing up and offering him the flower, hoping he would understand. The alien watched the small, colorful object in his hands with curiosity; he had seen many around the planet but didn’t know they could be picked, nor did he understand their purpose. With careful fingers, he reached for it and held it up to his face to examine it more closely.

“Flower,” Minho pronounced slowly, pointing to the daisy. The creature tried to imitate the sound, failing several times. He twirled the stem between his fingers, focused.

“Flo…wer,” He finally whispered, and a gentle smile unfurled on the older’s face, softening his features. Then he picked another flower and stepped closer to the alien, carefully tucking it into his hair, letting it rest among the golden strands.

He stepped back, admiring his work and let out a quiet, tender laugh. The blond looked at him, puzzled, not quite understanding, and Minho lifted his phone as a mirror, showing him his reflection now adorned with the delicate daisy.

The alien studied the image for a long, thoughtful moment, then glanced at his own flower. Slowly, he reached out, mimicking the gesture, and nestled it among his brown hair. Minho’s eyes widened, blinking in surprise, cheeks tinged with warmth and frustration all at once.

A shy, almost hesitant smile curved his lips, and to preserve this fleeting intimacy, he captured the tender moment on his phone, a little memory of their first outing together. He drew the alien close and snapped the photo, then gently put the phone away. 

After their brief pause, they resumed walking and arrived at Minho’s favorite restaurant just in time for lunch. They entered together, climbing the small steps that led to the main hall, and approached the waitress to reserve a table.

The alien looked around, blinking, his mouth slightly open at the sight: the ceiling was decorated with flowering branches and red lanterns, casting a soft, relaxing glow. Warm little lights hung among the branches, illuminating the wooden tables and creating an intimate atmosphere. At the far end, trees adorned with fairy lights added a festive and romantic touch without being excessive. The tables were decorated with small candles, making the ambiance even more magical.

“Do you like it?” Minho asked, tapping gently on the other’s arm to catch his attention. The alien, lost in the enchanting surroundings, turned toward him and gazed intently, as if trying to say something, but a crowd of people passed by, noisy and numerous, reminding him of the incident at the university, and he became frightened.

He hid behind the human, hands gripping his shoulders, face pressed to his back. Minho protected him with an arm, holding him close, and once the crowd thinned, guided him to a table at the far end of the room, away from the commotion. They sat across from each other, menus in front of them.

Minho didn’t bother reading, as the restaurant offered a fixed-price buffet, allowing unlimited servings. He picked up the tablet and began scrolling through the dishes, showing the most colorful and unusual ones to the alien, who didn’t understand their purpose at all. He then ordered freely, intending to let the other taste every possible delicacy.

Meanwhile, the blond admired the cherry blossoms above their heads, curious, they had a different color and structure compared to the daisies; in a way, they were like humans, similar yet distinct.

“Flower,” he pronounced, pointing at them, making Minho lift his eyes to follow his gaze.

“Very good!!” Minho praised him, gesturing for him to open the notebook he continued to hold protectively in his arms. “Try writing it,” he said, pointing at the page.

“Do you remember the alphabet?” he asked before repeating it from the beginning once more. The alien followed along and then pressed the pencil onto the notebook, etching the graphite into the page and perfectly reproducing the word. Minho complimented him again and tried to teach him more words in the meantime, creating a mini glossary together that grouped all the vocabulary they had learned so far.

“Time to eat.” The human rubbed his hands impatiently, eyeing the colorful plate now in front of him, an elegant arrangement of compact rice bites wrapped in premium raw fish, seaweed, and delicate garnishes. The alien watched him break the two chopsticks and grab them with curiosity.

“What?” Minho stopped, holding a roll between the sticks. “Don’t tell me you’ve never eaten sushi before…” he exclaimed, eyes wide and blinking, then reminded himself that everything seemed new to this boy.

He pointed at the chopsticks, inviting the other to take them, and the alien picked them up gently from the table, trying to imitate his movements. He stretched his arms, pulling them clumsily with little strength, and when they snapped apart with a sharp sound, he opened his eyes in surprise. He tried to grab a roll, but it slipped several times, his expression frustrated, cheeks puffed out.

Minho watched him, amused and touched, and reached out to adjust his posture, positioning his fingers correctly, fitting the chopstick between his fingertips. “Like this,” he said, guiding him toward the plate, helping him pick up the bite and bring it to his mouth. The alien chewed silently, not recognizing the taste, showing no reaction. Minho smiled and, without asking any questions, helped him once more, until he finally mastered the technique.

“You learn fast,” he praised, savoring his own portion with pure enjoyment. He was used to talking a lot with his mother and friends during meals, so having this quiet around him for once didn’t bother him at all. The alien’s company was particularly pleasant; he didn’t feel the need to force a conversation, on the contrary, he felt free to just be himself.

“I want to take you somewhere,” he said, standing up from the table, excited. Knowing how uncomfortable chaos made him feel, he decided to bring him to the park to show him the pond inhabited by swans and fish of every kind, a place he had loved since childhood.

Together they crossed the city, the daisies still resting in their hair. The alien didn’t notice that detail at all, and Minho didn’t care if they were seen that way, he was more concerned that the blond might be upset if he removed it.

They walked along the sidewalk in silence, the echo of their steps following them, the rustle of leaves all around. Minho turned toward the alien several times, stealing the occasional furtive glance; he held the notebook tightly against his chest, his steps irregular, zigzagging, eyes wandering, distracted by the moving nature, the birds hopping from tree to tree, the wind carrying the leaves, and the city lights sparkling like stars above.

Everything was new to him, even the asphalt under his feet or the presence of Minho himself. His world had been lonely, silent, devoid of contact or communication; he simply couldn’t get used to Earth.

He climbed onto the low wall, walking along it, watching Minho from above like a child who feels taller than his parent, then suddenly stopped. His eyes locked onto the pond unfolding before them, the sunlight filtered through the leaves reflecting on its surface.

The water shimmered, illuminating the creatures within, and revealing a majestic white swan gliding proudly across the ripples. The alien jumped down from the wall and approached the pond, leaning over the wooden railing, following with his eyes the rainbow whirl of koi swimming below.

“Do you like it?” Minho asked, watching his reaction with more than enough satisfaction. The blond seemed particularly captivated by the creatures, and the two of them stayed observing the pond for several minutes before moving on.

“There’s something I want you to try,” he said, motioning for him to follow. The alien cast one last glance at the swan before following the human toward a strange wooden structure set into the grassy area; a seat hung from ropes, swaying gently in the wind.

“Swing,” Minho pronounced, sitting on it and beginning to rock back and forth. The alien watched intently, not understanding how it worked, and for a moment it almost seemed as if Minho were flying.

“Come on, try it yourself!” he shouted before slowing down, dragging his feet along the ground to stop. The creature reached him, sitting beside him, hands gripping the ropes, back straight, feet planted on the ground. He mimicked Minho’s movements, but at first it was difficult. Minho pointed to his own legs, suggesting he follow the motion. He stretched them at first, then bent them again, swinging forward.

“Let’s try it this way,” he said, stepping off the swing and positioning himself behind the blond. With a gentle push on his back, he set him in motion, startling him at first, then placed his hand over his and wrapped it around the chains.

“Hold on tight, and remember your legs, move them, or you’ll end up stuck on the ground,” he repeated, touching the alien’s legs before returning to push him slowly. The alien had already learned the steps, but couldn’t move at first; now, with Minho’s guidance, he managed to keep the rhythm on his own.

“Very good! Keep pushing!” the older one encouraged, running alongside him and sharing in the fun. The alien felt almost at home, his feet floating above the ground, the emptiness beneath him, the lightness of his body cutting through the air. It felt like he was closer to the sky, a truly delightful sensation.

A smile appeared on his face, and Minho didn’t miss it for the world. Once he gained confidence, they had a sort of contest to see who could swing higher, but Minho let the blond win, he seemed so excited and together they finally got off the swing as the afternoon wore on. Minho hadn’t remembered a day so relaxing and carefree in a long time.

“It’s getting late, let’s go home,” he suggested, watching the sun slowly hide behind the mountains, a bad omen for the alien, who began to feel his body stiffen. Silently, he nodded, ignoring the discomfort, and followed the human back along the path.

He was happy; he hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He didn’t want this moment to be replaced by the sadness of loneliness, didn’t want to let go of Minho’s hand, now intertwined with his, guiding him home. Yet with every step, the pain grew sharper. He had never wondered about the consequences of this phenomenon and didn’t know what would happen if he ignored these signals for too long.

“Min…” he finally moaned, unable to bear it any longer. He stopped on the road, their hands now separated by the pain.

“What’s wrong?” Minho asked, concerned, bending toward him, visibly distressed. He needed to escape, but didn’t want Minho to find out, so he tried to push him away with all his strength before turning and running.

“Wait!” Minho shouted, standing and chasing after him. He rounded the corner, ready to catch him, but what he saw froze him in place, changing the course of his life entirely. The boy had vanished into the shadows, and a shining glow, like a falling star, had risen into the sky, disappearing into space. Their eyes had met for a brief instant before he vanished, leaving the memory of his regretful expression imprinted in the human’s mind.

“What… did I just see…?”

Chapter Text

“Hey Minho, calm down, I can’t understand what you’re saying,” Chan tried to soothe him, hearing him stammer on the other end of the phone. He had received that call in the middle of the afternoon only to hear his friend babbling something incomprehensible.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he asked, trying to understand what was causing this agitation, starting to get worried.

“I saw him disappear right before my eyes, Chan,” he repeated, distraught, his words confused and trembling.

“Who are you talking about?” the older one asked, puzzled.

“That guy who came to the university,” Minho explained, pacing back and forth along the street, fidgeting with his sweatshirt with his fingers.

“Alright, here’s what we’ll do, give me ten minutes and I’ll be there,” the older one said, sensing from the other’s tone that something serious had happened. Minho agreed, and after sending his location to his friend, he sat on the edge of the sidewalk, nervously biting his nail.

He couldn’t believe the scene he had witnessed; his mind was a total mess, a whirlwind of thoughts, but amid that confusion, everything seemed to make sense. All the strange things about that boy and his mysterious background finally seemed to find meaning.

“Minho,” Chan’s voice reached him in the silence, making him lift his head. “What are you doing on the ground?” he asked, approaching him before sitting down beside him. Minho shook his head and looked up at the sky above them.

“How do I explain it to you without you thinking I’m crazy?” the brown-haired one laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair. Chan raised an eyebrow confused and waited silently for him to explain the reason behind his agitated reaction.

“That guy… in the end, I took him to the police,” he began, plucking a daisy from the grass behind him, the memory of their day spent totogether, his flower now lost in chasing him. “And do you know what they found?” he asked, catching the other’s attention, who swallowed anxiously. “Nothing, absolutely nothing, the machine didn’t register any results with his fingerprint.”

“That’s impossible!” Chan exclaimed, blinking in shock.

“I thought the same… they probably thought it was an error, so they tried facial recognition, but nothing came up, at least not in the hours we waited before he ran off,” he said, spinning the stem of the flower around his finger.

A sigh escaped his lips as he recalled the boy’s desolate expression as he vanished before his eyes. “It always ends like this...he runs off and then reappears the next day as if nothing happened. The police suspect he’s an abused child, maybe kidnapped at a young age and never registered, which would explain his distrustful attitude and why he’s constantly terrified of everything around him, but it’s not just that,” he said, clutching the flower between his trembling fingers.

“Even if that were true, it’s impossible that he doesn’t know how to speak or read, that he doesn’t eat, that he doesn’t even recognize a phone, a video game, or a pudding,” the brown-haired boy exclaimed, finally turning toward Chan.

“So, where are you going with this?” the other asked, focused, unsure of what to expect from the conclusion of the story.

“Two hours ago we were together. I took him to eat sushi, and then we went to the park, he didn’t even know how to use the swing,” he emphasized, sighing and gesturing nervously. “Then suddenly, he ran off again, and I chased him all the way here, and…”

“And?” Chan prompted, feeling on edge. Minho bit his lip, hesitant to answer, knowing he might sound insane.

“He...disappeared, right in front of me” he said, his voice trembling, eyes fixed on Chan’s. “He...dematerialized, and a bright light guided him into space.” He finally let it all out, waiting for the other’s reaction, but Chan didn’t say a word at first.

“You probably don’t believe me… but I’m sure of what I saw. Nothing human is capable of something like that, Chan. I can’t explain it, if you can, please, tell me,” he pleaded desperately, clutching his friend’s arm. Chan looked equally shaken; he didn’t think Minho was lying, no matter how absurd the situation seemed, especially given his distraught reaction.

“What do you think it is…? An alien?”

“And what else could it be? If I think about it, everything makes sense now...the fact that he doesn’t speak, that he knows nothing, that there’s no trace of his existence in this world...isn’t that strange?” he asked, looking for the other’s approval.

“Yes, it is...I’ve only seen him once, but damn, he looked just like us…so aliens exist? I can’t believe it…” Chan burst out laughing, not to make fun of his friend, but because of the absurdity of his own words.

“I’ve always known we couldn’t be the only ones in the universe, but having confirmation is a whole different story,” he added, shaking his head in disbelief and resting a hand on his temple. Silence fell between them, just like night settling above, replacing the sunlight with the starry blanket of the galaxy.

“And now what should I do?” Minho asked, looking at the stars, anxious. “How should I act if he appears in front of me again? The thought terrifies me" he admitted, hugging his knees and burying his face in his arms. “I know he’s not dangerous, he never has been, but after what I’ve discovered, how can I look at him like nothing happened?”

“Are you really sure about what you saw?” Chan asked one last time, making Minho lift his head.

Was he sure? Could he really be an alien?

“I..I don’t know, I don’t know what to think, but if he’s not human, it would explain everything,” he finally said with a sigh.

“Alright, alright, don’t stress too much. Aren’t you excited to have an alien as a friend?” the older one tried to reassure him, placing a hand on his shoulder and coaxing a smile out of him.

“It’s all so absurd" Minho sighed, standing up. “Sorry for dragging you here all of a sudden. I’ll try to handle the situation somehow.”

“Let me know if he shows up again, and call me if you need me. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

Minho nodded in silence and let Chan head back home without burdening him further with his dilemmas. He wasn’t sure whether his friend had believed his story, but in any case, he was grateful for his company and support.

With his hands in his pockets, he walked toward home, accompanied by the dim glow of the streetlights. If that boy really was an alien, Minho had countless questions for him, questions he knew he wouldn’t get answers to.

That night, he didn’t sleep at all due to his restlessness, and the next morning, he skipped his classes, feeling too disconnected from reality to focus or take notes. He was stepping out to take the trash when, suddenly, the moment he had feared knocked on his door; he looked up and found him there, standing on the sidewalk, motionless, waiting.

His heart suddenly raced, and Minho dropped the bag from his hands, intimidated. The alien approached him, a small flower clutched in his hands. Minho stared for a moment, then his body instinctively stepped back, increasing the distance between them. The creature didn’t seem to notice, yet it could sense in his gaze that something had changed.

“Min?” he said, showing him the daisy between his fingers. “Flower” he added, lifting it in front of his face and offering it to the human, who stood frozen, staring.

“You’re really just like us…” Minho whispered, bewildered as he watched the tender scene. His heart lightened, and a long sigh escaped his lips as the tension that had accompanied him until that moment seemed to dissolve.

He reached out and took the flower, studying the blond boy carefully: every movement, every gesture, conveyed innocence and delicacy; whatever he was, he was far from dangerous. A gentle smile formed on his lips. “Alright, it’ll be our little secret,” he said, softly wrapping the other’s wrist in his hand and guiding him inside the house.

About a week after that event, Minho began to notice a pattern in the alien’s behavior: he appeared every day at the same time outside his house and always slipped away at sunset.

He wondered if the coming of night caused the disappearance, but then he remembered that from where he came, space, darkness reigned supreme. In the meantime, he had started teaching him their language during free time and had discovered that he was incapable of practicing any sport that involved using a ball.

“You!” Minho exclaimed, pointing at the creature and the alien-shaped plush in his hands. The blond boy pointed to himself and tilted his head in confusion. “Me human, you alien” Minho repeated, sitting on the floor of his room, the alien in front of him with crossed legs and a pouty face.

“Ali..en?” he asked, staring intently at the green plush with its long antennas. Minho nodded amusedly and handed it to him; he had bought it especially for him. The creature grabbed it and held it in his lap, feeling its softness.

“Alien,” he repeated, playing with the antennas. Minho smiled and watched him in silence, resting his chin on his palm, eyes focused on the other’s thoughtful figure.

“Green,” he pronounced, pointing at the plush and various other objects of the same color. The alien seemed to think for a long moment before repeating the word perfectly on his second attempt. He had become good at picking up new words and remembering them, almost capable now of forming a simple sentence.

“Now that I think about it...what should I call you? If you don’t belong to this world, you don’t even have a name” Minho mused aloud, drawing the alien’s attention, which until then had been focused on the little stuffed toy.

He picked up his phone and began scrolling the screen with concentration. Curious, the alien got up from his spot, the plush still in his arms, and positioned himself behind Minho. He craned his neck to peek at the phone, leaning silently over Minho’s shoulder, resting his chin on top.

“Found it!” Minho exclaimed, making the creature jump, only then noticing his presence beside him.

“Jisung,” he said. The name sounded new to the alien’s ears.

“Jisung will be your name from now on,” he repeated, turning to the blond boy.

“I think it sounds nice and the meaning fits you perfectly: will, sincerity, resilience, all words that describe you" he explained seriously, as if the matter touched him personally.

“And in a more poetic sense, it can be translated as ‘star of the earth’...isn’t that perfect?” he asked, locking eyes with the creature, who listened intently. Minho suddenly felt shy and began stammering, waving his hands in the air.

“But we don’t have to use it if you don’t want...I mean, maybe you won’t like it, or...I saw another one that—”

“Jisung,” the blond interrupted him, saying the name firmly.

“Huh? Y-you like it?” Minho asked awkwardly, but the alien nodded anyway, as if understanding what he meant.

“Minho,” he replied, placing a finger on the older boy’s chest before pointing to himself with the other, “Jisung.”

“Yes, exactly! I’m Minho and you’re Jisung,” the older boy said excitedly, taking his hand and squeezing it unconsciously, as if to celebrate their little victory. Jisung looked at him and imitated his expression, smiling sweetly, his finger still resting on Minho’s chest.

“Minho pink, Jisung green,” he said, suddenly associating their names with the only colors he had learned. Minho’s eyes widened, and he burst out laughing, his heartbeat hidden behind that light, joyous sound.

“You’re really strange,” he said.

Chapter Text

“I’m going now. Make sure you don’t move from here,” Minho said gently, pointing to the floor where the alien was sitting. University classes had started again, and he needed to attend them to catch up. He couldn’t afford to miss any more or risk repeating the year.

“…Me too,” the blond said, fiddling with the plush toy in his hands. “I want to come too…” he added, looking up at the older boy, who turned to meet his gaze. In the meantime, Jisung had learned to form a few sentences, becoming increasingly adept at speaking human language.

“You can’t, it’s dangerous. Remember what happened last time?” the brown-haired boy shook his head, but the creature’s wide, pleading eyes stayed fixed on him, fingers clutching the plush tightly.

“Just...don’t want...to be alone,” he stammered, hugging the toy close to his chest. Minho sighed, resting his hands on his hips in surrender.

They had spent another week together, by now, Jisung practically lived with him. They spent every morning studying and playing video games together, and leaving him alone all of a sudden would probably trigger a sense of abandonment in the alien, who was still far from understanding the ways of the human world.

“Alright...maybe it’s better if I take you, at least then I can keep an eye on you,” the older boy finally said, motioning for him to stand and follow. Jisung didn’t wait a second longer.

He got up, clutching the plush tightly to his chest and dashed toward the door, bumping into Minho, who had suddenly stopped at the threshold.

“What, you’re taking it with you?” Minho asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the plush. Jisung looked at him, confused, and understood from his eyes that something was wrong with his toy.

He hugged it tightly and stepped back, shielding it with his body as if to prevent the other from taking it, but all Minho did was smile gently.

“I’m not taking it from you, don’t worry. You can keep it if you like it that much,” he said, picking up his backpack from the floor.

“No one will even notice anyway,” he added, glancing at the notebook on the desk, their notebook, the one where they wrote down all the words Jisung learned. He put it in his backpack before gesturing for the other to follow him.

The two of them left the house and began walking down the street, side by side. Jisung kept his gaze down, watching the tips of his feet move beneath the figure of the plush. From time to time, he glanced at the greenery opening up around them and stopped when he recognized the tree he used to climb down every morning.

“What is it?” Minho asked, approaching, remembering the place of their first encounter. The alien had gone from observing Minho’s daily routines to being part of them without even realizing it. His own normalcy still revolved around Minho’s existence, but the dynamics had completely changed.

“Ah, this place,” Minho said, looking at the tree branches from which Jisung had fallen the first time, a tender smile on his lips.

“I remember it like it was yesterday… you really did fall from the sky, huh?” he commented with amusement, taking him by the wrist and gently pulling him along.

“Let’s go now, or we’ll be late. If we lose our spots, we might end up separated,” he warned, only then letting go of his place. The alien looked back one last time before resuming his walk, watching the other’s hand now far from his own.

“Minho, we thought you’d moved to another country, we hadn’t heard from you in weeks" Hyunjin complained at the entrance, giving him a pat on the shoulder before shifting his gaze to the blond hiding behind him.

“And who’s he?” he asked, curious, drawing Chan’s attention, who widened his eyes in disbelief. Minho had sent him occasional messages to keep him updated, but he hadn’t told him that he would bring Jisung to the university.

“Come on, let’s go, the class is about to start,” the older boy distracted them, motioning for the group to head to the classroom to divert their attention from the newcomer.

Minho silently thanked him and, taking Jisung’s hand, he guided him through the crowd careful not to lose him among the students. The creature felt uncomfortable in the chaos, clinging to Minho, making himself small against his body, one arm tightly wrapped around the plush in anxiety. Finally, they entered the classroom and found a spot near Chan.

“What were you thinking, bringing him here!” the boy whispered, looking at the alien beside Minho.

“He insisted. I couldn’t leave him alone at home, I have no idea how he might react or what he might do,” Minho replied, turning to Jisung, who was fiddling with his plush.

“Insisted? What do you mean? He can talk now?” the boy asked, fidgeting in his seat, almost making the other laugh.

“Not exactly, but he can say the important things,” Minho explained, pulling out a notebook with pink cover, the one where they had collected all their vocabulary.

He handed it to Jisung along with a pencil, offering a small smile meant to calm his agitation. Chan watched the two silently, then turned to the blackboard, shaking his head; he couldn’t believe that an alien had really landed on Earth, in their very city, and was now sitting in their classroom as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Minho tried to focus and take notes, but his attention inevitably drifted to the alien, who occasionally mimicked him, scribbling something in his own notebook.

About three hours into the lesson, the man at the front had not stopped talking, and Jisung had begun to get bored, unable to play with Minho. He leaned closer and rubbed his head against Minho’s shoulder, nudging his elbow and making him make a mistake in his writing.

Minho flinched at the sudden contact and turned sharply toward the alien, blinking in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, worried, remembering all the previous times Jisung had felt unwell. Jisung sighed, resting his head on the desk, his cheek pressed against the wood in boredom.

“I want to… play,” he complained, drawing circles on the desk with his finger, the plush abandoned on his lap. Minho parted his lips and let out a relieved sigh.

“We’ll be home soon. Don’t worry,” Minho reassured him, bringing a hand to his hair and stroking him gently.

The creature turned to the other side, making eye contact with another student beside him, and panic immediately set in. He recognized the same features of the human who had harassed him weeks before. Terrified, he reached under the desk and gripped a fold of Minho’s pants tightly with his fingers.

“Jisung, I told you before, it just takes a little patience,” Minho repeated but when he felt the grip on his legs grow insistent, he turned toward the blond, meeting his frightened eyes.

“Hey...are you okay?” he asked, looking around to understand the cause of his reaction, placing a hand over Jisung’s and feeling him tremble beneath his palm. Jisung shook his head and moved closer to Minho, trying to put distance between himself and the other. Unsure what to do, Minho got up from the desk, dragging the creature with him.

“Please, finish taking notes for me too, I need to step away for a moment,” he said, placing a hand on Chan’s shoulder before leaving the classroom. The older boy watched them go and noticed they weren’t the only ones leaving at the same time, but he didn’t pay it much attention and returned to writing.

“Jisung, are you okay?” Minho asked, concerned, stopping in the hallway and pressing the creature gently against the wall, his hands holding Jisung’s arms as if to offer support through touch. The alien nodded, calming down as soon as they were alone, the small plush dangling from his hands.

“You really scared me...I thought you were going to run off in the middle of class" Minho said, letting out a relieved sigh as he stepped back, giving Jisung space.

The alien lowered his gaze, feeling guilty; he wanted to explain the situation to Minho, but he couldn’t; communicating with humans was truly difficult and stressful for him.

“Here come the losers,” a voice called out, catching their attention. They both turned in the same direction, spotting a boy approaching them.

“What are you doing here?” Minho asked, immediately recognizing him, his tone and posture changing completely. Jisung shifted his gaze between the two, then hid behind Minho’s back.

“Cute little doll" another voice said, as a boy appeared behind the alien and snatched the plush from his hands. Jisung reached out to grab it back, but the boy shoved him, making him collide with Minho.

“Give it back,” the brown‑haired boy ordered, clearly impatient. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother people?” he added, stepping closer to the taller boy, completely unafraid of his size.

“What, is the kid going to cry if I take his toy?” the bully replied sarcastically, motioning for the other to hand him the plush and snatching it in a leap.

Minho tried to get there first, but the shove prevented him from grabbing it. “If you care so much, go get it yourself,” he said, turning toward the window and tossing it out from the third floor into the courtyard.

“No!” Minho yelled, trying to stop him, but it was useless. Jisung ran toward the window as if to retrieve it, and Minho, terrified by his reaction, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his side.

“Are you going to jump out for a stuffed toy?” the boy laughed, mocking the blond as tears started  welling in his eyes.

“Why don’t you try then?” he taunted, grabbing Jisung by the shoulder and pulling him closer.

“Don’t touch him!” Minho snapped, shoving him hard. “Stay away from him,” he warned one last time, holding the alien behind him.

“Or what?” the boy challenged, amused. “You loser, last time you got me suspended!”

“Suspended? You started it. That’s exactly what you deserved,” Minho replied, clenching his fists, while Jisung fidgeted anxiously behind him. In that moment, something snapped inside the bully, an impulse he couldn’t hold back, and without thinking, he struck the other boy in the stomach.

“Hey, hey! What are you doing?” Chan shouted, having witnessed the scene from a distance, catching the bully in the act. Minho doubled over and coughed, kneeling on the ground to catch his breath.

“Min…min,” the creature whispered, shaking him weakly in panic, unsure of what to do. Minho tried to compose himself, but the pain in his stomach made him falter again.

“Minho, are you okay?” Chan asked, worried, crouching beside him. Minho nodded and gestured to wait a moment, just enough to catch his breath.

“I’m fine,” he said, standing up with their help.

“That jerk, I’ll make sure he gets kicked out of the university,” Chan promised, rubbing Minho’s back reassuringly.

“Go home. Can you walk? I’ll record the afternoon class for you. Don’t insist on sstayig your friend looks shaken too.”

Minho turned to Jisung, whose cheeks were wet with tears and eyes wide with fear. “I shouldn’t have brought you…” he whispered, feeling intensely guilty for what had happened, even though it hadn’t been in his power to prevent it.

He thanked Chan and, without arguing, left the lessons. The first thing he did was descend the stairs and head to the courtyard to retrieve Jisung’s alien-shaped plush.

He bent down slowly, exhausted, and picked up the dusty toy from the ground. He looked at it for a moment, then shook it lightly a couple of times, as if to free it from the dirt, and handed it to the creature.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop them,” he said apologetically but Jisung ignored the plush completely and threw himself into Minho’s arms, hugging him just as Minho had once done with him, seeking refuge against his chest.

Minho gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain in his stomach, and allowed the alien to embrace him, completely surprised by the gesture. He blinked, momentarily stunned, then stroked Jisung’s back, melting into a smile.

“Let’s go home,” he said simply, clutching the plush in his fingers.

The way home passed in silence; neither of them spoke a word. Once back, they skipped lunch and locked themselves in the room.

Minho felt sore, and he knew that the next day a bruise would probably appear on his abdomen, marking his pale skin.

“Do you want to see something?” he asked, approaching the small creature, draped in sadness and silence. He sat on the edge of the bed and opened a book on his lap, offering it to Jisung.

“You come from here,” he explained, pointing to an illustration to catch the alien’s attention, who gradually moved closer. “Space,” he said, turning to look at him.

“Mmmh… space,” the blond repeated, confused.

“Exactly. This is space, and it’s made up of planets, like the Earth where we live, and many stars, like our sun,” he explained, following the drawings with his finger until he pointed to the sun outside the window. Jisung absorbed some of the words and tried to repeat them.

“Planets… stars… Sun,” he said, looking at the illustrations, pausing on one that depicted a white streak, focusing his attention on it and forgetting the events of the morning.

“Oh, this is a shooting star,” Minho explained, turning the page.

“Shooting… star…?” the blond repeated, clearly confused.

“Yes… shooting, which means it falls, just like you did from that tree that day,” he said, starting to laugh.

The alien tilted his head in confusion, not understanding what he meant, but seeing the relaxed expression on Minho’s face brought a small smile to his own, chasing away his bad mood. Immediately, Soonie climbed onto the bed, stepping on the book and interrupting their little astronomy lesson, curling up next to his owner in a donut shape.

Minho stroked him gently and closed the book, intending to get up, but was preceded by the other, who imitated Soonie and quietly rested on his shoulder.

“Jisung…?” he whispered softly, holding his breath, as if even the smallest movement could break the quiet bond between them.

The alien didn’t respond, curling up against his body, his plush abandoned at his side, eyes half-closed. A small, tender smile spread across Minho’s face as he ran a hand through the alien’s soft hair, stroking him gently.

A sigh escaped his lips, not tinged with melancholy, just the pounding of his heart, heavy, filling his chest.

Chapter Text

The following morning, Jisung showed up at the usual time in front of his door, and Minho greeted him with his usual bright smile.

“I’m sorry, but you’re staying here today...I want to check how things are at the university before taking you back,” he said, bending down to put on his shoes.

A slight pang ran through his stomach, his body still sore from the blow he’d taken the day before. The alien frowned at him, then bent down to pick the shoes up himself and silently handed them over.

Minho blinked in surprise, a tender smile blooming on his lips as he took them from his hands. Then Jisung reached out toward him until his fingers brushed Minho’s stomach through the sweatshirt, touching it gently, his eyes focused on the sore spot.

Minho looked at him in silence, the shoes still in his hands, his body frozen in place. The alien finally rested his palm fully on the injured area and lifted his gaze toward him.

“Hurt?” he asked, catching Minho off guard.

Minho gave a faint nod and gently pushed his hand away. “A little, but it’ll pass. It’s nothing serious,” he tried to explain, hoping the other would understand. The blond pressed his lips together sadly and stepped back, then picked up his alien-shaped plush toy and sat down on the bed.

“I’ll be right back, I promise. You won’t even notice I’m gone. Actually, if you want, I can turn on the PlayStation so you can play as much as you want,” Minho said, grabbing the remote and turning on the tv and the console, but Jisung’s expression didn’t change, not even at the tempting offer.

“Jisung,” he called softly, crouching down to look up at him. The alien hugged the plush tightly against his chest and rested his chin on top of it, his cheeks puffed out, his lips slightly pouting.

“Don’t make that face… please,” Minho sighed, placing a hand on the plush to move it slightly aside.

“I’ll be quick, and when I’m back, we’ll do something together, okay?” he tried to reassure him, resting both hands on Jisung’s knees and squeezing them lightly. Jisung looked at him for a moment before finally nodding, giving in.

“Good… don’t make me worry, and be good, okay?” he pleaded, standing up and slipping on his shoes.

He picked up his bag from the floor and walked to the door. He waved to the alien before closing the door behind him, hoping he wouldn’t cause trouble or get hurt. The thought kept him uneasy, and he wished the morning would pass quickly.

At the entrance, he met Chan, and together they walked into the classroom, sitting side by side.

“The alien?” Chan asked, getting straight to the point.

Minho gestured for him to lower his voice and, after glancing around, leaned closer to reply. “I left him at home...I just hope nothing happens,” he said nervously, twirling his pen between his fingers.

Chan stared at him with an expression that seemed ready to bombard him with questions, but he had to wait until the break to give them a voice.

“So… how’s it going? What’s it like being friends with an alien?” he asked excitedly, adjusting himself on the chair.

“Well…to be honest, I was a bit shaken when I first found out the truth, but I couldn’t bring myself to treat him any differently. He’s just so…”

“Innocent?” the older one interjected.

“Exactly. He’s like a little puppy, he gets scared easily, he’s curious, observant, and slowly learns by imitating others. There’s nothing strange or dangerous about him…he’s more like a lost creature.”

As he spoke, Minho’s gaze grew distant, his thoughts drifting to the blond now alone in his room. His lips curved into a soft, tender smile.

Chan watched him closely, resting his chin in his hand. “Sounds like you’ve really grown attached to him,” the older one remarked, shrugging.

Minho’s eyes widened in embarrassment for a moment before he shrugged back. “It’s impossible not to. You haven’t seen him..he’s adorable. His behavior is so...pure and gentle. You can’t help but be drawn in. I think anyone in my place would feel the same,” he countered, trying to defend himself, but Chan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by that explanation.

“I’ve seen him a couple of times and he did seem incredibly fragile and harmless, so I get what you mean” he admitted, closing his notebook.

“But I also think it takes a ridiculous amount of patience to handle a situation like that. He has no idea how lucky he is to have ended up with you. Anyone else would’ve handed him over to the police and washed their hands of it.” He shook his head before adding, “Besides, I haven’t seen you this invested in someone for a long time.”

Minho fidgeted nervously in his seat, but Chan went on. “And honestly, I think it’s good for you. You needed something, or someone to keep your mind busy, right?”

“Chan…” Minho sighed, parting his lips as if to say something more, but the professor’s entrance marked the end of their break and the start of the lesson.

Meanwhile, Jisung had spent two hours playing video games before growing tired of it. He threw himself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, bored. He fiddled anxiously with the plush toy resting on his lap, then reached out to stroke Soonie, lying beside him.

After a moment, he stood up and began to pace around the room, walking back and forth. His finger trailed along the spines of the books on the shelf, every now and then pulling one out if its color pleased him.

He flipped through the last book, trying to read a few lines, but the words slipped past him, still too difficult to grasp. He closed it and let his attention drift elsewhere.

He flung open the wardrobe door that Minho opened every day, curious, and silently took in his clothes. One by one, he brushed past Minho’s shirts, then several jackets, until his gaze settled on a pink sweatshirt.

He looked at it for a long while before taking its sleeve and bringing it close to his face, Minho’s scent still clinging to it. He slipped it off the hanger and held it in his hands for a few seconds, then pressed it to his chest, hugging it weakly. The restlessness that had filled him only moments before slowly faded as the warmth of his body enveloped the fabric. Feeling a sudden need to sense the other’s presence near him, he put it on over his shirt and wrapped his arms around himself in search of comfort.

He didn’t even understand the reaction his body had to that gesture, but he relaxed as soon as the human’s scent filled his senses.

He wasn’t used to such sensations, smells, tastes, emotions. In his world, everything was so dull and cold; the earth offered a life far more intense and vivid, one he simply couldn’t get used to.

He sat back down on the bed, hugging his green plush toy, smiling at the combination of colors he loved so much, and quietly waited for the other’s return. 

Minho came back home a few hours later, his heart pounding as he ran straight to his room to make sure Jisung hadn’t caused any trouble.

But what he found instead was the alien lying on the bed, wearing his sweatshirt, with Soonie curled up on his stomach. Letting out a sigh of relief, Minho dropped his bag to the floor.

“As promised, I came back quickly,” he said, waking the half-asleep alien.

“Min.." Jisung murmured, rubbing his eyes as he sat up, accidentally waking the cat, who meowed in protest and jumped off his lap.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Minho said as he sat on the edge of the bed, scooping up his pet and beginning to stroke him.

Soonie purred, rubbing against his owner’s cheek before stretching his little nose toward the other boy, drawn by the sound of Minho’s playful kisses. Minho leaned down and pressed his lips against the cat’s soft fur, earning another affectionate meow as Soonie brushed against his face.

Jisung watched them in silence, puffing his cheeks as he hugged his plush tighter.

“Why are you wearing my sweatshirt? Were you cold?” Minho asked, turning toward him and finally giving him his full attention. The question caught Jisung off guard. He tilted his head, clearly confused.

“Sweatshirt” Minho repeated, pointing at the garment. “This pink one.”

The alien’s mouth fell open as if to explain himself, but nothing coherent came out.

“Mine,” he finally said, clutching a bit of the fabric between his fingers.

“Oh? Okay, if you want, you can keep it,” Minho said with a casual shrug before standing up and setting Soonie on the floor. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen. Since you didn’t have lunch, how about we make a nice snack together?” he offered, gesturing for him to follow.

Jisung left his plush on the bed and trailed behind him shyly.

“I stopped by the supermarket to grab a few things,” Minho said, gesturing to help explain what he meant. “So we’ve got everything we need to make some cookies,” he went on, placing the ingredients on the table one by one.

“Flour, butter, eggs, sugar, baking powder, and chocolate chips,” he listed, pointing at each as he spoke. Jisung repeated the words after him.

Minho took a large mixing bowl and asked the other to pour in some sugar. The alien looked uncertain, but followed his instructions without complaint.

“Okay, I’ll start, and then you follow,” Minho said, grabbing the whisk and starting to beat the sugar and butter together with quick, energetic movements. Jisung watched him curiously, his gaze shifting to the ingredients slowly blending together under the rhythm of Minho’s hand.

“Alright, your turn,” Minho said, stopping and handing him the whisk before cracking a couple of eggs into the mixture. Jisung pointed at himself as if to ask for confirmation, and Minho nodded.

“You just have to mix like I did,” he explained, demonstrating again with a patient smile. The alien looked at the tool in his hands and began stirring slowly.

“That’s it, exactly,” Minho encouraged, stepping closer and resting a hand on Jisung’s wrist to guide his movements with gentle precision. Jisung stayed still, continuing to stir until he found his rhythm, and soon the dough turned smooth and even.

“Good. Now we need to open the flour, can you hand it to me, please?” Minho asked, his hands still busy.

Jisung eyed the bag hesitantly and, after focusing for a few seconds, managed to read the label. He picked it up and pulled at the two sides to open it, but not knowing how much strength to use, he ended up making it burst.

A puff of flour exploded in his face, coating him in white. Minho spun around at the sound and burst out laughing.

“What are you doing? Be careful!” he scolded lightly as Jisung coughed in the middle of the white cloud still hanging in the air. He handed him a tissue and pointed to the sink so he could wash his face and hands before continuing.

Shaking his head, still amused, Minho poured some flour into a small bowl, added the baking powder, and mixed it into the rest of the batter.

Jisung stood off to the side, refusing to touch anything else for fear of making another mess, a visible pout forming on his lips. Minho turned to him and gave him a playful nudge to get his attention.

“Come on, it’s fine,” he tried to reassure him, but the alien turned his head away, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey,” Minho called softly this time, bringing a finger under his chin to tilt his face toward him.

“It’s okay, really. Cooking together means this too, having fun, messing up… it’s all part of the process.” His voice was gentle, his touch soft, his gaze warm.

Jisung clutched the hem of his sweatshirt and nodded, somehow managing to understand what Minho meant.

“Alright, now grab the chocolate chips and pour them in here. We’re almost done.”

After mixing in the last ingredient and placing the dough in the fridge to rest, Minho explained to Jisung how to shape the mixture into little balls once it was ready.

They spent the next half hour cleaning the kitchen and putting everything back in the cupboards. When the dough was finally ready, they shaped the cookies, placed them in the oven, and waited for them to bake, using that time to study new words together.

Jisung was improving day by day, learning with surprising speed; his only struggle was remembering all those terms.

“You know, Chan says I’ve gotten attached to you…” Minho suddenly began, breaking the silence.

“And he’s not wrong, actually...I really care about you. It’s been a couple of weeks since we met, almost a month now. I’ve gotten so used to having you around that I barely remember what my life was like before you got here...it’s been ages since I last baked something...” he admitted, nervously rubbing his hand against his pants as he stared at a random spot in the air.

Jisung looked at him quietly. He didn’t understand the full meaning or depth of his words, but he could feel the emotion behind them in Minho’s gestures and expression. So he nestled closer, resting his head on Minho’s shoulder, and thought hard about what to say.

“Min it’s...okay, alright?” he finally said, repeating his words, placing his hand gently over Minho’s, just like he had done the last time, to calm him down.

Minho blinked several times, completely caught off guard, and felt his heart skip a few beats. For a moment, everything else faded away, and there was only Jisung beside him. Thankfully, the alien had his head resting on his shoulder and couldn’t see his expression or hear the wild drumming in his chest.

Heat crept up Minho’s cheeks, and he sighed a few times before finally managing to calm down. He didn’t understand why such a simple phrase had hit him so hard, maybe because he hadn’t expected it, maybe because he needed to hear it, or maybe because Jisung had somehow found the right words to comfort him, even without fully knowing how.

“T-the cookies!” he suddenly shouted, snapping back to reality and making Jisung jump in surprise. He rushed to the kitchen, using the excuse to put some distance between them for a moment, trying to pull himself together.

"Stay calm, Minho...no panic attacks, please…” he muttered to himself, pressing a hand against his chest, still flustered.

Chapter Text

After that time, several weeks passed; Jisung began to manage on his own with constructing sentences, but his demeanor remained the same, awkward and affectionate.

“Min,” he called with a pout, tugging lightly at his sleeve and puffing out his cheeks. Minho paused his pen on his notebook and turned, giving him the attention he was seeking.

“Is something wrong, Jisung?” he asked, cuddling Soonie curled up on his lap. The alien parted his lips, but not knowing how to express his complaints, he simply remained silent.

“No, nothing…” he said, returning to study his text. Minho had bought him a children’s storybook, hoping he could slowly learn to read on his own, and every now and then Jisung would pause, looking at him with those curious eyes and asking for help with words he didn’t know.

“Is there something you don’t understand?” the older one pressed, leaning over the page, but Jisung pulled the book back as if to protect it from his gaze. Minho smiled faintly and let it go, returning to his notes.

The alien cast a glance at the cat comfortably stretched across his lap and muttered something under his breath before returning to his reading.

Sometimes they would spend entire days in silence, each focused on their own tasks, occasionally exchanging a glance or a word to break the ice. Minho had tried talking to Chan about the strange feelings that had begun to trouble him lately, but he had reassured him, saying it was normal to feel affection for a creature like that.

“Shall we watch a movie?” the blond suggested, closing the book, bored.

Minho looked up from his notebook, and a smile blossomed on his lips. As much as he had wanted to say no, he simply couldn’t refuse him when he looked at him like that. Even though he was behind on his studies, he would have the whole evening free anyway, since Jisung wouldn’t be there as usual.

He got up to place the books on the desk and turn on the tv, reluctantly having to shoo Soonie off his lap. Jisung settled on the bed, leaning his back against the wall, making a small nest of pillows behind him for comfort, then tapped the mattress, signaling for the older one to sit, impatiently.

Minho prepared the movie and joined him immediately, sitting beside him, the cat once again following onto his lap. Jisung frowned once more and shifted slightly away, until his shoulder touched Minho’s.

“If you’re cold, tell me,” Minho said, leaning back against the wall himself and spreading the blanket over his legs, covering the animal.

Jisung, who had previously shaken his head, quickly changed his mind and tugged it gently toward himself, covering his knees as well, ending up sharing it with the human even though he wasn’t cold.

During the movie, the two of them commented frequently; Jisung had been mesmerized by the dragons and had asked Minho several times why they couldn’t just coexist with humans instead of waging war. Minho had smiled at his innocent question, telling him to wait until the ending.

About halfway through the film, Jisung leapt onto the bed, clinging to Minho and shaking him during an epic scene, scaring poor Soonie, who jumped off the older one’s lap. He pointed at the tv in awe, watching the protagonist manage to tame the creature and ride it across the sea.

Minho burst out laughing and motioned for him to sit and enjoy the rest, but when Jisung returned to his spot, he curled up on Minho’s shoulder, pressing against his body and clutching his arm like an octopus.

Minho felt his heart race, and for a moment he silently scolded himself, biting his lip: he feared the other might notice, with his head so close to his chest. He breathed slowly through his nose, trying to focus on the movie and failing miserably.

Only then did he realize that he had been keeping a certain distance from Jisung in recent weeks, as if to shield himself from these feelings, to defend against the emotion that was dangerously growing inside him.

His cheeks flushed hot and red, and suddenly the blanket no longer mattered. He remained tense like a violin string for the rest of the movie, and every time Jisung shifted against him, his heart skipped a beat. He wanted to get up, to run but he couldn’t.

It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling; on the contrary, it was far too much, and that terrified him.

“Min, it’s over,” Jisung complained, interrupting his thoughts and bringing him back down to earth. Minho hadn’t even realized the movie had ended, so lost was he in his worries. He tried to compose himself and return to regular breathing, finally turning to him.

“Did you like it?” he asked with a smile, and the alien nodded frantically.

“Good, then tomorrow we’ll watch the second one,” he suggested, wearing a satisfied expression, now more relaxed at the other’s distance.

“There’s a second one??” the blond exclaimed happily, before leaning toward the window to watch the sun set behind the mountains.

“Is it that time?” Minho asked, following his gaze outside before glancing at the clock. Jisung nodded and reluctantly got up from the bed.

“Mhm…yeah, I have to go,” he announced, kicking the rug beneath his feet. As he approached the door, Soonie slipped back into the room and jumped onto the bed, right where he had been sitting, rubbing against his owner.

Jisung watched him for a long moment, unwilling to leave and leave him alone with Minho, a strong feeling clinging to his chest, something he had never felt before: jealousy.

A sharp pain hit his side, making him grunt; he couldn’t linger any longer, so he said goodbye to Minho and left the house, returning to his spaceship.

Minho stroked his cat thoughtfully, wondering once again where he went at the same time every day and why he had to do it.

It was one of the greatest unsolved mysteries behind the enigma that was Jisung, yet he hadn’t found a way to bring it up and solve it, continuing to cling to far-fetched theories, like the alien couldn’t live on Earth without the sun’s presence.

He returned to studying in the silence of his now-empty room, catching up on the pages he had fallen behind on until late at night.

The next morning, at the usual time, the doorbell rang, making him rush to the door, but to his dismay, the alien was not waiting for him. In his place, a soft meow brushed against his feet, making him look down.

“And what are you doing here?” the boy crouched down, leaning toward the creature and stroking its soft, honey-colored fur.

The cat meowed, rubbing against his hand as it made its way inside the house.

“Wait,” Minho called after it, closing the door behind him, fearing it might run away. He then picked it up from the floor and held it in his arms, examining it carefully.

“You don’t seem like a stray…did you escape by accident?” he asked, as if the animal could actually answer, as he climbed the stairs.

He took it into the bedroom and shut the door behind him, not so much out of fear of his own cat’s reaction, but rather the stray he didn’t know at all.

As soon as he lay down on the bed, the cat settled on his legs and began meowing insistently, catching Minho’s attention. He started scratching it behind the ear.

“You like it here, don’t you?” he asked softly, moving along its furry neck. The cat rubbed back against his abdomen and began kneading his hoodie with its little paws.

Minho smiled, touched, and continued stroking it silently, bringing his face close to its little muzzle. The animal stretched out, rubbing its ear against his cheek, tickling him with its whiskers, and with one paw began playfully pawing at his hair.

“Hey, you little rascal,” he scolded, moving back, but as soon as he leaned back to lie down and let the cat get comfortable with him, it transformed.

Its golden fur became the blond hair of the alien; its small body now lay over him, completely covering him, Jisung’s face just a few inches from his.

“J-Jisung???” Minho swallowed, blinking in shock.

“Min…” the blond whispered, rubbing his face against his neck.

“W-what…what are you doing here? You…how…?” Minho stammered, feeling his body ignite, turning his face to the side.

“I wanted to surprise you,” the alien replied, pressing his entire body against his.

“You took the form of a cat?” he asked, still incredulous, his voice trembling, his heart on the verge of exploding.

Jisung pushed himself up, placing his palms on the older one’s chest and looked down at him, pouting as he sat on top of him.

“You didn’t like it?” the blond asked, offended, furrowing his brow.

Minho shook his head quickly, his breath short.

“No… it’s not that… I didn’t think you were capable of doing it…” he confessed, thinking of all the cuddles he had given that cat without knowing its true identity, imagining what would have happened if he had kissed him.

His face flushed violently red at the thought, and he had to cover it with a hand.

“But why did you do it…?” he asked softly, caught between the need for him to hear it and the desire that he didn’t.

“I wanted to understand what Soonie feels,” Jisung confessed, shifting to the side, sliding along the bed, finally freeing the other’s body.

“…when, uh...you pet him? Is that how you say it?” he asked, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling, tapping a finger lightly on his chin.

Minho swallowed again, feeling his heart sink deeper with every word.

“Since he can always be this close to you…” Jisung continued, turning toward Minho, his expression sad.

“You seem so distant these days,” he admitted, causing the older one to slump, his chest heavy now.

So he had noticed, after all.

“Jisung…” Minho immediately got up, reaching for the other’s hand.

“Sorry…” he said simply after holding it lightly.

“I’ve been caught up with studying… I didn’t mean to neglect you…” he admitted, lowering his gaze, remorseful.

“Neg…lect?” Jisung tried to repeat, unfamiliar with the term.

“Ignore you…? Push you away? Be distant?” the older one offered, finally making him understand the meaning of the phrase.

The two of them remained silent for a few moments, his heartbeat a deafening noise in the stillness.

“You don’t need to turn into a cat…” Minho finally spoke, looking down at the rug, unable to face the other’s gaze.

“Well…” he continued, stammering. Finding the right words was no longer difficult.

“If it’s cuddles you want…I can give them to you without any problem,” he finally said, feeling a knot form in his throat.

Jisung’s eyes lit up at the offer, and he didn’t waste a moment before lying down on the bed, resting his head in Minho’s lap.

Minho felt the other’s weight settle across his knees and sighed several times, trying to calm his racing heart as he lowered his hand toward Jisung’s face.

His muscles were tense like violin strings, yet it wasn’t the first time he had touched him. What had changed since the last time?

Jisung half-closed his eyes and waited for the other’s touch on his hair in reverent silence.

As soon as Minho threaded his fingers through Jisung’s golden locks, his body relaxed and his heart seemed to settle like magic.

He ran his fingertips through the thick hair and stroked his cheek with the back of his hand, an affectionate smile on his face as he did so, his eyes filled with adoration.

“Can we watch the movie like this?” Jisung asked, opening his eyes and meeting the gentle expression of the older one as he caressed him carefully, every fear now gone, every demon at bay in the presence of the creature he cherished so much.

“Of course, Jisung, whatever you want,” Minho whispered, brushing his cheek once more.

Chapter Text

“Here, I got this for you,” Minho said, bending down to hand him the device.

“What is it?” the alien asked, taking it in his hands.

“A phone,” Minho explained, pulling his own from his pocket to remind him of that object that looked like a miniature television.

“I know you can’t use it yet, but I’ll teach you,” he said, sitting beside him on the rug where the alien had been lying just moments before, on his stomach, absorbed in reading his storybook.

“In case we ever get separated, or if there’s an emergency, or when classes start again and I’m gone for several hours, we’ll be able to communicate from a distance,” he explained, gesturing as he spoke, catching Jisung’s full attention.

The alien shot to his feet at that information, placing both hands on Minho’s crossed knees to push himself closer to his face.

“We’ll be able to talk at night too?” he asked, excited. Minho had to bite his lip several times before answering; he was trying to overcome three obstacles at once: Jisung’s closeness, his enthusiasm at the idea of talking even when they were apart, and the unpleasant news he had to give him.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think the signal reaches past outer space…” Minho said, taking the alien’s face between his hands, cupping his now puffed cheeks in his palms.

Jisung pouted and let himself fall backward, landing on his backside in frustration, crossing his arms over his chest.

It seemed like the right moment to finally ask him why he couldn’t stay on Earth any longer than he already did.

“So…what happens if you stay longer?” Minho asked at last, freeing himself of that weight he’d been carrying for months.

Jisung blinked several times and suddenly fell silent. Minho noticed the discouragement settling over his face and shook his head, placing a hand on his leg.

“You don’t have to tell me now…when you’re ready, you will,” the older one reassured him, standing up as the blond followed him with his eyes.

“Come on, let’s go out, shall we?” he suggested, extending a hand toward the alien, hoping he would accept the invitation and forget that question.

“It’s a beautiful day, and it’s not even that cold,” he added, persuading the blond, who, without letting him say another word, grabbed his hand and stood up.

“Can I wear your hoodie?” he asked, giving him puppy eyes, even though he didn’t need to use such an infallible trick; Minho would agree to anything he asked for anyway.

“Of course you can. Take whatever you want, what’s mine is yours,” he replied with a shrug, picking up the alien-shaped plushie from the floor and placing it back on his bed.

Jisung jumped at his wardrobe and stole his favorite pink hoodie, slipping it on before turning toward the older boy, who was already dressed.

Minho took his hand and walked him outside, where the autumn breeze brushed against their warm faces. Then he led him through the city, showing him a few shops.

They entered a modest boutique that wasn't crowded, and there Minho showed the alien where and how people bought things.

“Do you like anything? We can get whatever you want,” he lied. He didn’t have unlimited funds, he was just a student. He bought things with his savings or with the money he earned tutoring after classes.

Jisung looked around, nervously biting his finger, until something caught his eye: a green hoodie, the same color as his plushie.

“That one!!!” he said, pointing at it.

“Do you want to try it on first?” Minho asked, taking it off the hanger and leading him to the fitting room. He explained that he had to change inside the booth and not in front of everyone, that it was a normal human custom when trying on clothes.

“Well? What do you think?” Minho asked, noticing how the blond’s enthusiasm seemed to fade the moment he put it on.

“You don’t like it?”

Jisung shook his head, clutching the hem of the hoodie, his lips jutting forward in a sad pout.

“It doesn’t smell like you…” he confessed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to say out loud.

Minho’s face turned bright red at that comment, and after quickly covering Jisung’s mouth with his hand, he glanced around anxiously, hoping no one had heard. Then he sighed, letting him go immediately and taking a few steps back, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Jisung… you can keep wearing my clothes if you want, but it would be nice if you also started developing your own personal tastes… right?” Minho tried to convince him, a tender smile painted on his face.

Jisung didn’t seem persuaded, so he closed the curtain, got dressed again, and handed the hoodie back to Minho before stepping out.

“Put it on. Then it’ll have your scent,” he repeated, making Minho’s heart skip yet another beat, he was now on the verge of a complete meltdown. Minho took the hoodie in his hands and, after dragging Jisung away from the fitting rooms, went to pay for it. Then he slipped his own hoodie into the bag and put on the one Jisung had chosen, letting his scent permeate it.

Jisung smiled, satisfied, and continued their walk with his arms wrapped around Minho’s, until something familiar along the street caught his eye.

“Flowers!” he shouted, tugging Minho along so suddenly that the boy nearly tripped. Together, they approached the small flower stand where various kinds of blooms were arranged by color.

“They smell so good,” the alien murmured, brushing his fingers over each one with delicate fascination, utterly enamored by their shapes, their harmony, and the mixture of colors and scents gathered together.

“These…” he said, pulling on Minho’s sleeve and pointing to soft pink flowers, shaped a lot like daisies.

“They remind me of your scent,” he admitted, bringing his nose closer to the bloom to savor it from up close. “And they’re pink too!” he added, making the boy beside him blush, gaze quickly darting away so he wouldn’t be seen.

“Ah, cosmos flowers,” the young florist approached them, a bright smile on her lips.

“Cosmos…?” Jisung repeated, unfamiliar with the word, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes, that’s the name of these beautiful flowers. They symbolize love,” the girl explained, encouraging the alien to buy them.

“Love…” Jisung seemed to mull over the meaning of that word for a long while. He had heard it many times, both in the fairy tales he’d read and in the movies he had watched with Minho, and he had more or less connected it to several gestures or acts of pure affection, like saving a princess from death or caring for an animal until earning its trust.

There was no love on his planet, no affection, everything was so cold and distant.

“Should we get them???” the alien turned toward Minho, pleading with wide eyes, as if Minho had ever stood a chance of refusing.

The florist began selecting a few stems from the vase, picking the freshest ones, inspecting each petal before grouping them together into a small bouquet. Jisung watched her add one delicate piece after another, fascinated, mesmerized by her precise, gentle movements as she wrapped everything in a sheet of colored paper and tied it with a ribbon.

Minho took the bouquet when she handed it to him, paid, and once they stepped outside, he offered it to Jisung.

The alien clutched the wrapped flowers in his hands, smiling brightly, and stopped right on the edge of the sidewalk.

“So…where should we go now?” Minho asked, turning around and suddenly realizing that Jisung was no longer at his side.

He spun around quickly to look for him and found him standing behind him, slightly bent forward, holding out the bouquet with both hands.

“J-Jisung…?” he stuttered, confused.

“They’re for you,” the blond confessed, head lowered, a hint of embarrassment in his tone, something that had never belonged to his voice until that moment.

“F-for me??” Minho pointed at himself, blinking.

Only then did Jisung lift his gaze, meeting the older boy’s eyes, his already glossy, softly lit by the sunset behind them.

“Yes…you give me so many things, but I never give you anything in return,” he admitted, now fully capable of understanding the world around him and the meaning of the gestures Minho constantly showered him with.

He surely lacked tact, emotions, and many other things, but he knew well the affection Minho had offered him for months, always genuine, always without asking anything in return.

“I don’t know how things work in this world…I don’t know how you’re supposed to get flowers from a...shop? Is that the word? I don’t know what money is…we don’t use them where I’m from. None of this is a surprise. But…” he tried to explain in his own way, stepping closer.

“These remind me of you… they’re delicate and they smell nice, just like you… so I want you to have them,” he confessed, striking Minho right in the heart, pushing him over the edge of tears.

“That human spoke of love…I don’t really know what it is yet…I still have to understand human emotions. But if there’s one emotion that represents you, then that one is love.”

“Jisung…” Minho nearly cut him off, unable to bear the weight of those words any longer, the force with which they had torn one heartbeat after another straight from his chest.

His knees trembled, and so did his hands, as he tried to take the bouquet, gently sliding it out of the other’s grasp.

“I…” The words died in his throat, and tears gathered in his eyes. A vast joy filled his heart, so immense, so overwhelming that he couldn’t separate one emotion from another, couldn’t express them the way he wanted.

He was stuck in that moment, frozen, unable to say anything at all.

Jisung had intended to give him those flowers from the beginning, they were never meant for himself. He had chosen them carefully, thinking only of Minho, pondering their meaning, their color.

There was nothing purer, nothing more genuine he could have offered. A creature who knew nothing of the universe except sadness, pain, and loneliness 

But in Minho, he had found a home. A land where he could plant his roots. A planet he could inhabit.

“I hope you like them.” he said at last, smiling softly as he let the bouquet go.

Minho nodded, trying desperately to hold back his tears, hating himself for being unable to express even a fraction of the immense gratitude and joy overflowing from him, feelings born from the person he loved most in the entire world.

Yes, Minho loved Jisung. There was no doubt left.

Every time he saw him, his heart raced. Every morning he woke up smiling because he knew he would see him. And every night he fell asleep tormented by his absence, clinging to the thought of the next day, when Jisung would appear again.

His life revolved around the alien and if at first he did it out of kindness, wanting to help him, now he did it because he loved him.

He loved everything about him.

His clumsiness, his complaints, his innocence, his presence, his touch.

If his friends ever found out he had fallen in love with an alien, they would call him insane. But he didn’t care, he already felt insane himself, terrified by a love so close yet so impossible.

“I love them…so much…I don’t even know how to thank you,” he said, his voice soaked in gratitude as he pressed the flowers to his chest.

Jisung smiled one last time before feeling his body give out. His legs had begun tingling minutes ago, but he had ignored it because he didn’t want to leave Minho’s side.

Inevitably, though, the side effects punished him for that choice, dragging him down as he collapsed to the ground.

“Jisung???” Minho panicked, dropping to his knees beside him. He set the bouquet on the pavement and placed his hands on the alien’s shoulders, watching in horror as Jisung struggled for air, sharp pains shooting through his body.

“What’s happening…?” Minho asked, slipping a hand under Jisung’s chin, his voice trembling with worry.

Jisung shuddered and tried to stand, failing miserably, the muscles in his legs too weak to support him.

“It’s nothing…” he lied, just as another sharp pain struck his chest, forcing him to clutch Minho’s hoodie in a desperate attempt to steady the agony.

“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” Minho begged, trying to soothe him with gentle strokes, not knowing what else he could possibly do.

The alien clung to him, searching for relief, for support, for help.

“It hurts…” he whimpered through clenched teeth, tears streaking down his face.

“But I don’t want to go…” he cried desperately, his shaking fingers gripping the fabric of Minho’s hoodie with all the strength he had left.

“Where does it hurt? How can I help you?” Minho panicked, covering Jisung’s hand with his own and rubbing the back of it, but the alien only shook his head.

“You…can’t…help me,” he forced out, his body twisting in pain as night fell over them, his breath short and ragged.

“This is what happens…when I stay too long,” he finally confessed, resting his head against Minho’s shoulder in exhaustion.

“It hurts, Min…” he whimpered again, unable to endure the intensity any longer, yet he wanted to try, he wanted to stay. He didn’t want to leave now, not after finally doing something for Minho. He didn’t want to go back to his spaceship, lonely and silent in the vast emptiness of space.

“Jisung…why didn’t you tell me sooner? How many times have you suffered like this?” Minho wanted to be angry, but how could he be, seeing him like that?

Instead, he helped Jisung sit up, then gently placed the bouquet in his hands before lifting him into his arms, carrying him away from the eyes of passersby.

He brought him to the park, where at night no one ever wandered, and carefully settled him onto a bench, making sure not to cause him more pain.

“I don’t want to go, Min…” Jisung whimpered, curling into himself.

“Please, Jisung…I don’t want to see you like this. I don’t want you to hurt. Please…go,” Minho pleaded, brushing a lock of hair from his anguished face.

“In a few hours we’ll see each other again, okay? I bought a new game, we can play it together tomorrow, alright?” he tried to reassure him, caressing him gently, doing everything he could to ease his suffering.

Jisung gave a weak nod and, after gripping Minho’s hand one last time, vanished from sight, swallowed by the stars.

Chapter Text

The hardest part wasn’t letting go of Jisung’s hand, he knew the alien would be safer away from Earth, and he himself had begged him to leave, but trying to process everything that had happened in the last half hour was simply too much for his fragile heart.

Minho sat down on the bench where he had just said goodbye to Jisung and stayed there for hours, staring into the void, the bouquet of flowers left unattended beside him.

He picked it up and brought it close to his face, remembering the alien’s words.

they're delicate and they smell nice, just like you.

The scent flooded his senses, and a tender smile bloomed on his lips as his eyes filled with tears. Without even noticing, he began to cry quietly, alone in the cold night, wrapped in his hoodie and in his own illusions.

Jisung didn’t understand love, and yet the gesture he had made toward him was the most beautiful confession Minho had ever received.

He quickly wiped his tears with the sleeve of the hoodie, which actually belonged to Jisung and shook his head.

His heart was in chaos and his mind in turmoil. His feelings for Jisung had finally burst out of the cage where he had locked them away for so long, terrified of experiencing them, and now, just as he had feared, he was unable to handle them, not after Jisung had shown him what love was in the purest and simplest gesture he could have imagined.

And then there was the way he had watched him suffer, so brutally, while he could do nothing, powerless, incapable of easing his pain or helping him in any way.

He felt frustrated, sad, alone, yet at the same time happy, terrified, confused.

His heart raced, trying to keep up with a thousand thoughts, his chest heavy, his breathing short, tears still clinging to his eyes.

He held the flowers loosely, trying to calm himself, and after checking the time on his phone, he decided to head back inside.

He hadn’t even realized it was almost midnight; he had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t felt the need to eat, nor the need to sleep.

Indeed, he struggled to fall asleep that night. Time seemed his enemy, dragging on endlessly, prolonging the agony until the moment they could finally be together again.

The following morning, Minho didn’t even wait for the doorbell. He got ready early and went out, waiting for Jisung in front of the door.

He glanced at his watch nervously, anxiously; he would have gone to meet him if only he had known where to find him. Then, suddenly, he saw him turn the corner, surprise lighting up his face when he recognized him.

“Min,” he called in a low voice, running toward him. Minho felt his heart sink as Jisung threw himself into his arms, curling small against his body.

“Jisungie…welcome home,” he whispered, gently stroking his hair, letting the alien sink into his jacket, silent, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Are you okay?” Minho asked, finally returning the embrace, holding him tightly against his chest.

“Does anything hurt?” he continued, worried, but the blond shook his head, rubbing his face silently against Minho’s body.

Minho let out a sigh of relief and invited him inside, since it was cold outside. As always, he guided him up the stairs and settled him on his bed before pulling out the case for the new game he had promised him from the drawer.

“Ta-da!!” he exclaimed, showing it to the blond, who, however, turned his gaze toward the desk, noticing the flowers arranged neatly in a vase with water.

“Oh…is it okay there? Do you like it?” Minho asked, approaching him.

“I’m sorry,” the alien said simply, his face downcast, his eyes filled with sadness.

“For what?” the boy asked, sitting beside him. Jisung didn’t say anything; instead, he leaned sideways, resting his head on Minho’s shoulder. Then he sought out Minho’s hand, and when he found it, he intertwined his fingers with his.

“I didn’t want you to see,” he murmured, referring to the events of the previous day.

“I didn’t want you to know,” he added, his lips forming a small pout of tender regret.

“Hey…” Minho shifted slightly, encouraging him to lift his head and meet his eyes.

“Don’t say that…I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering without telling me,” Minho replied softly, caressing his face.

“I understand that you wanted to hide this, but it doesn’t change anything now that I know. In fact, this way we can plan our days better and make the most of every moment, without you having to force yourself to stay…or to suffer,” he explained, brushing a few messy strands of hair from Jisung’s head.

The alien nodded, curling closer against Minho’s arm, and smiled faintly.

After comforting him, Minho showed him the game, and together they faced epic battles against terrifying monsters, always ending up losing to the same boss.

Jisung had now become a master at video games, and every time he lost, he would whine and sulk, retreating to a little corner of the bed to brood over his mistakes.

Minho always tried to cheer him up, telling him that he was definitely better than him and that it was his fault they couldn’t win.

“What? You want to go out?” he asked, pausing the game at the alien’s request.

“I had so much fun yesterday,” he admitted, hopping on the mattress. “I want to know more about how humans live, about how you live,” he added, clutching his plush toy tightly in his hands.

Minho felt his heart skip yet another beat, his cheeks flushing red, his palms sweaty.

“Of course, we can go wherever you want!” he agreed, getting up from the bed and turning off the tv. He then went to the wardrobe and took out the alien’s green hoodie, the one Minho had slept in that night.

“I think you can wear this now…” he said shyly, handing it to him, struggling to maintain eye contact.

The alien looked at it excitedly and snatched it from his hands before putting it on, hugging himself when he recognized the familiar scent that always made him feel safe. Then he clutched the plush toy to his chest, showing Minho how similar the colors of both objects were, making him smile. His eyes were full of adoration and affection.

He was so incredibly pure and sweet that Minho’s heart felt like it might not withstand it for long.

“Shall we go then?” Minho invited, clearing his throat and extending a hand, waiting for Jisung to take it.

The alien left the plush toy behind, now unnecessary, no object could make him feel as safe as Minho’s presence, and took his warm, soft hand to follow him outside.

“I hope it doesn’t rain…” Minho exclaimed, looking up at the sky and watching the clouds gather above them.

“Maybe I should take an umbrella,” he muttered to himself, glancing around for the item.

“Umbrella??” the alien asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yes, an umbrella, it’s used to stay dry in the rain,” he explained, searching for it but not finding it. “Maybe my mom took it,” he huffed, giving up before closing the door.

“Rain…” Jisung repeated, trying to remember what that word was connected to.

“Yes…it’s water, the kind that falls from the sky,” Minho said, pointing to the gray clouds.

“Oh!” the blond exclaimed, tugging Minho by the sleeve. “I want to see it!!”

Indeed, ever since he had met Jisung, the only times it had rained were at night, when he was in space and couldn’t see it.

“Well…change of plans. I hope it rains then,” he said, smiling widely before starting to walk.

That morning, Minho took him to the supermarket and showed him what people usually bought and what was essential to keep at home for survival. Jisung had fun filling the shopping cart, while Minho patiently explained the use of every item the alien asked about.

The hardest part was explaining how to use the detergent. He couldn’t understand whether it was some kind of fuel that powered that thing Minho had called a washing machine, or why they even needed it, couldn’t they just wear different clothes or buy new ones each time?

After more than an hour, they left the supermarket, a bag in each of their hands, just before the first raindrops started to wet the ground.

Jisung looked up at the cloudy sky and then turned to Minho, only to hear thunder boom above them, startling him.

“What was that?” he asked, confused.

“That was thunder. It often comes with rain. Let’s hurry!” Minho exclaimed, quickening his pace toward the bridge where they could find shelter. But they didn’t make it in time before the rain started pouring down.

“Run! It’s a downpour!”

Minho grabbed him by the sleeve, trying to shield himself with his hood, but Jisung seemed to enjoy the fresh water soaking through his clothes.

The ground was already slippery, so they had to watch their steps as they ran. Minho took the blond’s hand, who continued laughing, delighted, under the pouring rain.

They finally reached shelter, but Jisung lingered for a few seconds under the rain, his face turned to the sky as water streamed over him. He slowly spun around, as if to let himself be completely embraced by it.

Minho scolded him and, leaning forward to pull him closer, began to laugh.

“Are you crazy? You’ll get sick!” he exclaimed without thinking.

“Get sick??” the alien asked, confused, leaning against the wall.

Minho set the bags down on the ground, shaking his head, and turned to look at him; Jisung was completely soaked, strands of wet hair plastered to his forehead, and droplets running down his neck, disappearing into his drenched hoodie.

The sight literally took his breath away; under that autumn rain, surrounded by flashes of lightning and booming thunder, Minho felt his heart give in once again.

The noises around him suddenly dulled, and the sound of his pounding heart seemed to echo in his ears.

His throat went suddenly dry, and even after swallowing several times, the sensation did not improve.

He slowly approached Jisung, his steps silent under the rain, and placed a hand on his chest, first brushing over his dark green hoodie, then pressing him gently against the wall, aligning his face with the younger’s.

Jisung felt his wet back press against the cold concrete behind him and inhaled Minho’s scent, suddenly so close it left him dazed.

Minho looked into his eyes for long seconds, beneath those long dark lashes, before shifting his gaze to his soft pink lips, silently.

His hand weakly gripped the fabric of his garment, clutching it as if to summon courage, to vent his anxiety through that gesture, as if afraid of losing control.

Finally, Minho leaned in, letting his breath brush against his lips, and when the distance seemed nonexistent, he pressed them together.

A strange shiver ran down Jisung’s spine, a sudden tingling sensation in his stomach, unfamiliar and different from the dull unease he felt during his episodes.

The blond blinked, focusing on the delicate taste of Minho’s lips, who, carried by his emotions, deepened the kiss just slightly.

He felt strange, unable to explain the sensations that now seemed to control his body, wanting more, and began to tremble for reasons he could not understand.

Minho moved his hand from Jisung’s chest to his shoulder, down his arm, caressing him slowly, his own lips gentle against the alien’s, before pulling away and losing himself in his large, confused, and lost eyes.

“I…” Minho stepped back, suddenly realizing what he had just done. His ears rang insistently, and his heart pounded in his chest with the same rhythm as the rain beating on the asphalt.

Jisung said nothing, watching him bewildered, experiencing a flood of sensations he didn’t know how to control.

In the end, he did what he knew best: he ran.

“Jisung, wait!” Minho chased after him, ending up running through the rain, pursuing what already felt like his greatest regret.

He managed to reach him in a few desperate strides and grabbed him by the wrist, throwing him off balance on the slippery ground. He had to pull him close, making him collide against his chest to keep him from falling.

Jisung didn’t resist; he simply stayed there, hidden against Minho’s soaked hoodie, without lifting his head, his breathing fast, strange, uncomfortable.

His lips were burning, his body hot, despite his clothes being frozen against his skin.

“I don’t understand,” he trembled, his voice barely audible beneath the downpour.

“Why do I feel like this… it’s not even night yet,” he murmured, clutching a handful of Minho’s hoodie.

Minho stared ahead, far away, imagining another dimension where he hadn’t just kissed Jisung.

The raindrops fell heavy onto his hair, sliding down his face now entirely wet, a punishment for his reckless action. His long brown strands stuck to his neck, and his hoodie grew heavy, just like his heart.

“Jisung…I’m sorry,” he said simply, letting his arms fall uselessly at his sides, unable to comfort him, unable to protect him from himself.

“It doesn’t hurt…” Jisung admitted, wrapping his arms around the elder’s waist and resting his head against his shoulder.

“It’s different from the other times…it doesn’t hurt, Min,” he repeated, finally lifting his head to meet the boy’s sad eyes.

“It’s just that my body…I feel strange,” he confessed, scared of his own reaction, not the other’s gesture.

“Me too…” Minho finally replied, meeting his gaze.

The rain crashed endlessly over their heads, the grocery bags abandoned under the bridge, the thunder rumbling around them, yet none of it seemed to matter.

“I feel strange too…” he whispered, taking the alien’s hand and guiding it to his chest, letting him feel the frantic beat of his heart.

“This is what you do to me every time you’re close. I know it’s not easy for you to understand, and I don’t want you to force yourself to…but-”

He stopped, a knot forming in his throat, tears threatening to spill.

Jisung had never seen him like this. He felt terribly guilty; he wanted to bring that smile back to Minho’s face, just like he had when he gifted him those flowers.

So he decided to do the one thing he had become unexpectedly good at: imitating humans.

He lifted his eyes toward the elder, held his gaze for a long moment, then rose slightly onto his toes and finally let his lips meet Minho’s.

Chapter Text

When Jisung’s lips touched his, the world around them came to a halt.

The rain fell slowly, suddenly silent, distant; the droplets touched the ground, widening into small trembling circles on the puddles, drawing faint transparent halos on the water, gently expanding before disappearing.

The air was still, the thunder distant, barely perceptible.

Their moment was accompanied only by the soft sound of the falling drops, one after another, creating a slow, hypnotic rhythm as the fresh smell of rain rose from the ground, carrying with it a deep sense of calm.

Jisung’s lips were soft against his, damp, soaked with the water running down their faces, joining into a single stream.

Their taste delicate like daisies, their touch faint, genuine, pure.

His heart seemed to stop along with time as his hand slid to the alien’s neck, caressing his wet skin, gently holding his soaked strands of hair.

The hoodie, heavy on his shoulders, cold against his body, was now warm under the alien’s touch as he had to lean against his chest to keep his balance.

From his fingertips, a warmth seemed to spread, passing through the fabric and radiating deep into his soul.

Minho felt every sensation more vivid than it normally would have been: his mind completely empty, utterly focused on the contact with the other, pulled in by emotion.

Jisung had kissed him.

He had done it of his own free will, innocent, probably without even knowing the reason behind that action.

Minho weakly tightened his grip on the other’s blond hair, moving just slightly against his lips, guiding his movements, letting his hand slide behind his neck.

With the other hand he held him lightly at the waist, drawing him closer to his chest, helping him support the weight of his body, standing on his tiptoes for who knows how long, probably tired, then he pulled away.

He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, nor make the alien uncomfortable when he clearly didn’t know how to act in moments like that.

The desire to taste his lips once more was strong, but never as strong as his need to protect Jisung and keep him from suffering in any way.

He looked at Jisung from beneath his long eyelashes, his breath heavy despite the brief contact, his cheeks warm and red.

A smile bloomed on his lips as he brushed a strand of hair stuck to the alien’s forehead back behind his ear.

Jisung looked up at him, his large eyes bright and eager to know more, to feel that strange emotion again, while he took a step back, placing his feet on the ground once more, never breaking contact with the other.

He felt confused, completely unsettled, like when he had first set foot on Earth, disoriented, but this time not out of fear or loneliness. On the contrary, he felt a mix of emotions he had never experienced before swirling inside him, like a storm of debris orbiting around a planet.

Minho lost himself in that dark, deep orbit that was Jisung’s eyes and breathed slowly, feeling the water begin to run down his skin again and the sounds around him becoming more real.

He blinked several times, letting droplets fall from his eyelashes, and tightened his grip on the blond’s arm as he parted his lips.

He didn’t even know what he wanted to say, his throat tight in a knot, his heart aching in his chest from how hard it was beating.

He bit his lip silently, unable to tear his gaze away from the alien’s, until a thunderous crash above their heads pulled them out of that limbo, the rain now sharp as needles against his skin.

“L-let’s go,” he urged, searching for his hand before pulling him back toward the overpass where he had left the grocery bags.

The two finally found shelter from the downpour, leaning against the wall as if seeking comfort.

“Min…you’re shaking,” Jisung finally spoke after that long, deafening silence they had shared, reaching a hand toward him.

Minho pulled his hoodie tighter around himself, shivering, uncertain whether it was more from emotion or from the cold taking over his body.

“It’s cold,” the boy complained with a puff of breath, trying to warm himself by rubbing his arms without getting any real result.

Jisung watched him for a moment before remembering how humans usually covered themselves to withstand such temperatures. He moved closer and wrapped his arms around the other, resting his head against Minho’s shoulder.

Minho looked at his curled-up figure from over his shoulder and felt his stomach tingle once again, stuck on the memory of their kiss in the rain.

When he didn’t feel the trembling stop, Jisung tightened his hold on the other’s body, rubbing his head gently against his shoulder, drawing a smile from Minho, who finally managed to find his voice again, forgotten somewhere deep in his throat.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m warming you up,” the alien replied, trying again, though the problem wasn’t really the cold itself, but rather their clothes, soaked through, and the wind that made the wet fabric freeze against their skin.

A smile formed on the boy’s face, and he shook his head fondly.

They waited at least an hour in that position for the rain to ease, and when the storm finally calmed, the two went back home.

Minho led the alien to his bathroom, bringing him clean towels to dry himself and a change of dry clothes to wear around the house. Then he went to the bathroom on the lower floor, taking a long, hot shower.

He relaxed under the steaming water, vividly retracing the scenes from that morning.

“How could you even think of kissing him,” he scolded himself, shaking his head.

Was it really possible he hadn’t been able to hold himself back in front of something so beautiful, so breathtaking? That he had lost control and they had kissed under the pouring rain, and that his heart still beat wildly at the memory of it?

He rested his head against the bathroom tiles, the warm steam around him forming a halo of enveloping calm, isolating him from everything else.

“He kissed me,” he whispered then, touching his lips, still shaken by the gesture, swept up once again by those sensations he couldn’t shake off his body, impossible to forget.

He wondered whether Jisung had done it knowingly, what he had felt while doing it, and whether he had felt anything like what Minho was feeling in that moment.

He tormented himself for a long time, until he finally stepped out of the shower and looked at himself in the mirror; the smile had never left his face since Jisung had kissed him.

The fear, the terror of having taken one step too far, the way he had made him run away, everything had been erased by that gesture, so unexpected, so intense.

Minho began to laugh, and a few tears accompanied his happiness, impossible to control.

He wiped them away quickly, running his hands over his face and sniffing softly.

All of a sudden, he felt like the happiest person in the world.

He left the bathroom, smoothing down his hair a little after pulling on a warm, comfortable hoodie, and went to find Jisung in his room, already settled on the bed with the plush toy placed between his legs.

Minho smiled widely and forced himself not to throw himself at him and smother him with kisses.

His hair was still damp, since he wasn’t able to use a hair dryer, or worse, didn’t even know what it was, and he was wearing one of Minho’s oversized hoodies, which made him look even smaller than he already was.

Neither of them brought up what had happened that morning, a secret kept between them and the rain, and they spent the afternoon playing the video game Minho had bought.

Saying goodbye became increasingly difficult, but as soon as Jisung showed the first sign of exhaustion, Minho shot him a stern look without saying a word.

It was hard for him too to separate from the alien, but it was something he could overcome, something he could endure, unlike seeing him suffer.

Minho fell asleep exhausted, drained by emotion as though he had run a marathon, and the next morning he woke up with his body aching all over and without any strength.

He struggled to swallow, his throat burning, and when he got out of bed, a dizzy spell dragged him forcefully back onto the mattress.

He breathed slowly; warm air left his lungs, a shiver ran down his body making him curl in on himself, then he brought a hand to his neck and then to his forehead, feeling his skin burning.

He grabbed his phone and checked the time; in just a few minutes Jisung would be at his house, and he looked terrible.

He got up only to change out of his pajamas and into something to wear at home, then stumbled down the stairs and approached the door.

“Min!” Jisung dove into his arms, making him lose his balance.

Minho stepped back slightly but managed to stay standing by some miracle and wrapped his arms around him.

His heartbeat was slow, tired, but inevitably stronger now that he was in the alien’s embrace.

Jisung pulled back just a little and held him by the shoulders, looking at him suspiciously.

“What is it?” Minho asked, staring at him with a weak smile.

“There’s something different,” the alien sniffed, beginning to inspect his body with his eyes and then with his hands, eventually touching his burning cheeks.

“Yesterday you were cold, but today you’re hot,” he observed, feeling Minho’s body radiate a heat far more intense than usual.

“I think I have a fever,” he admitted, hiding a soft cough behind his fist.

Jisung looked at him, confused, tilting his head. “Fever?”

Minho nodded.

“Yes, it’s when the body’s temperature rises to fight bacteria,” he explained, swaying to one side before Jisung caught him by the arm and held him tight to keep him from falling.

“Are you okay??” he asked worriedly, unable to understand what was happening or why the fever had weakened him so much.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, thanks…I just need some rest,” he admitted before turning toward the couch.

Jisung followed him, noticing his slow and unsteady steps, and helped him sit down before crouching in front of him and looking up, something Minho always did when he felt sad or down.

He then placed a hand on Minho’s knee, remembering the gestures the other used with him, trying to imitate them and offer comfort, since that method always worked on him.

“Is there something I can do?” he asked with those big pleading eyes, making Minho’s heart skip.

He was so damn adorable.

“Is it my fault?? Because yesterday I did that thing…”

“No!” Minho cut him off, raising his voice, startling the alien who flinched and fell back onto the floor.

“No, Jisung…it’s not that. It’s caused by the cold and the rain,” he explained, immediately lowering his tone, regretting his harsh reaction.

The alien nodded weakly and rested his chin on Minho’s knees.

“Then what can I do to make this fever go away?” he insisted, anxious at the sight of Minho in that condition.

“There are remedies, medicines that make it go away faster,” he explained, placing a hand on the alien’s head and gently stroking his hair.

“Good. Where can I find them???” Jisung asked, jumping to his feet, giving up the cuddles if it meant helping him.

“They’re in the kitchen drawer, a white box with pink writing on it, but I can get it myself,” Minho said, trying to stand, but Jisung planted himself in front of him, hands on his hips, shaking his head, his cheeks puffed out in a stubborn pout.

“No, you stay right here. I can do it by myself, don’t underestimate me,” he replied with a sulky expression before running toward the kitchen.

“I’ve never done it…” Minho whispered, watching him disappear around the corner, his voice too soft to reach him.

Jisung returned shortly after with the box in his hand, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his face.

“And now???” he asked, not knowing what to do next.

Minho couldn’t hold back a smile, impossible with how adorable that scene was, and decided to guide him through it since he clearly wanted to help.

Jisung followed each step with full concentration. He poured some water into a glass, detached a pill from the package, and brought everything to Minho.

He handed the glass to him and sat quietly by his side.

He watched him swallow that strange little object with water, then got up again, agitated.

“And now??”

“Now we wait for it to work,” Minho sighed, placing the glass on the table before lying down on the couch, exhausted, his body trembling like a winter leaf shaken by the wind.

Jisung bit his lip and remembered once again how humans suffered from weather conditions. He ran upstairs to fetch the blanket they always shared on the bed during their long video game sessions.

Minho blinked in confusion as he saw him come back down, then noticed the blanket in his hands.

“Here, this will help,” Jisung said, spreading it over him and adjusting it carefully so it covered him all the way to his chin, leaving no gap for the cold. Yet something in his expression showed he wasn’t satisfied, he looked troubled, thoughtful.

Something was missing.

He lowered himself toward the couch, crawling slightly, and slipped under the blanket, settling between it and Minho’s body. He slowly climbed up until he was completely pressed against his side, his face resting on Minho’s shoulder, his arms curled against his chest.

Minho stayed silent, his voice stolen, as always by the alien’s actions, by his closeness, by his sweetness.

He had become so caring with him, and even without knowing exactly how to help, he was doing an incredible job. Minho was almost glad to be sick if it meant receiving this kind of attention from him.

He lifted his arm and placed it behind the smaller one’s back, pulling him even closer without the slightest fear of infecting him.

“Min…” Jisung whispered, moving his head over Minho’s heart.

“Is there a medicine to make the pains that stop me from staying here…go away too?”

he asked innocently, hiding his face against Minho’s neck.

A sharp ache struck Minho’s chest at that question.

He didn’t answer, how could he? He wished more than anything that such a medicine existed, something to ease the alien’s suffering. So he simply held Jisung tight and let himself fall asleep with the comforting thought that nothing would ever separate them, not space, not distance, not their differences.

Chapter Text

There’s a place I’d like to take you,” Minho began, sitting down on the bed.

Jisung followed him, settling at his side but sinking into the mattress as far as possible so he could swing his feet off the edge. He bounced lightly on the springs, shifting his hips with impatience as he moved closer, excited by the idea, until his gaze landed on the flowers on Minho’s desk, now wilted. His expression immediately darkened.

“Min…” He poked his shoulder gently to get his attention, pointing at the vase.

“Why aren’t they pink anymore?” he asked, a pout forming on his lips.

“Oh… those.” Minho scratched his head, searching for a way to tell him they weren’t eternal.

“They dried out… I tried to change the water often so they’d last longer, but they don’t survive for very long,” he explained, feeling the weight of Jisung’s stare.

Jisung got up and approached to look at them more closely, but even though his touch was gentle, the petals fell like silent snow over the wood.

Minho didn’t have time to warn him, and stood up quickly to stop him.

“Why do they do that…?” Jisung tried to put the petals back where they belonged, but couldn’t.

“Jisung…” Minho whispered, placing his hand over his.

“I don’t understand,” the younger murmured, his voice trembling, his eyes glossy and ready to spill tears.

“Why?” he asked, turning toward Minho and meeting his suddenly startled gaze as the tears began to fall.

“Jisung, are you… crying?” Minho blinked, caught off guard by his reaction.

“Bring them back,” Jisung begged, shaking him slightly, hiccuping.

“I can’t.” Minho took his hands gently, moving them away from his chest.

“Please…” the alien pleaded, giving him a weak push.

Minho sighed and stroked his blond hair softly.

“We’ll go buy new ones, okay? Just… don’t cry…” he whispered, unable to bear seeing him so upset.

“New ones?” Jisung asked, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Yes. There are thousands and thousands of flowers in the world, and unfortunately when you pull them out of the ground they wither more quickly. But that doesn’t mean you’ll never see them again.”

He showed him a photo on his phone, a field full of flowers, so beautiful and varied it looked like a painting.

“Nothing is truly eternal in this world,” Minho said with a small shake of his head, wondering if Jisung even knew what death was. They had never spoken about something so important.

Truthfully, Minho knew nothing about Jisung’s world and the alien had never said a word about it.

He wished he could know what it was like, what he did, how different it was from Earth, what kinds of animals lived there, what their habits were, and why he had decided to set foot on Earth in the first place.

“But so…” Jisung hiccupped again, wiping the tears from his reddened cheeks.

“Does that mean you, Min… you’re not eternal either?” he asked, freezing Minho in place.

How could he tell him the truth, when he had fallen apart over a few flowers? There was nothing Minho hated more than seeing him suffer, certainly not lying.

“What are you saying? I’ll always be here for you,” he said with a gentle smile, pulling the other into his arms and holding him close.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. He would stay by his side for as long as Jisung wanted him to; he would comfort him whenever he needed it, take him around to show him the world, spoil him, cuddle him, kiss him, he would share his life with him, if only Jisung wanted that too.

Jisung sniffled, gradually calming down as the older boy’s scent filled his senses and the warmth of his embrace wrapped around his body.

He hid his face against Minho’s chest, ending up soaking his sweatshirt with tears. Minho stroked him gently, his hand a steady reassurance on his back, comforting him with a touch that had never failed.

“So… do you still want to hear where I wanted to take you?” Minho asked, sliding his hand up into his hair, making him finally lift his head, those big eyes still shiny with tears.

A smile bloomed on his face as Minho ruffled his hair and pulled away from the hug.

The first thing they did once they left the house was buy another bouquet of cosmos flowers, so he could have fresh ones in his room again. Jisung held them tightly in one hand while gripping the sleeve of the older boy with the other, afraid to lose him in the crowd.

“Min, where are we going?” he asked, shrinking behind him as he suddenly felt overwhelmed by all those people.

“You’ll see,” Minho replied, picking up his pace to reach the museum faster.

He’d bought the tickets online to avoid the line, and led Jisung toward the entrance, practically bouncing with excitement at the idea of experiencing this with him.

Jisung had no idea what awaited him, but Minho’s enthusiasm was contagious enough to make him tremble with curiosity.

They crossed the threshold together, and the atmosphere changed instantly; their mouths fell open in awe, absolutely lost in that world.

Towering skeletal figures stretched toward the ceiling, the bones of creatures extinct for centuries. Lights shone directly onto the fossils, highlighting every detail.

Jisung stared at the enormous reconstruction, amazed, tugging on Minho’s sleeve in search of answers.

“These are dinosaurs,” Minho explained, pointing to the Tyrannosaurus model, the most classic of dinosaurs, the one children loved the most, one of the fiercest.

“They existed many years ago, long before us humans,” Minho tried to explain, gesturing broadly.

“They’re huge!!” Jisung exclaimed, stepping closer in awe before reaching out to touch the enormous foot of the skeleton, only to jerk his hand back immediately.

“Why don’t they live with you anymore?” he asked, moving on to a smaller specimen, inspecting its jaws and sharp teeth.

“They went extinct.”

“Extinct?” He tried to recall the meaning of that word, but it completely slipped his mind.

“Unfortunately, life became impossible for them after an asteroid hit Earth. They couldn’t adapt to the drastic change in climate, so little by little they disappeared, leaving room for other species,” Minho explained, pointing to the drawings on the wall depicting the eras leading up to their extinction.

“So they’re like the flowers?” Jisung asked, glancing down at the fresh bouquet still clutched in his hand.

“Yes… but, as you can see, they’re still here, and we can still look at them,” Minho added, placing a hand on his shoulder to guide him forward.

“See that one?” Minho pointed to the Tyrannosaurus in the center of the hall to catch his attention.

“That was the fiercest of all,” he said, bending forward with his arms raised to mimic the dinosaur’s pose.

“When it walked, even the ground trembled under its claws, and everyone ran at the sound of its roar,” he continued dramatically, opening his mouth wide to imitate the dinosaur’s cry.

Jisung watched him, fascinated, then burst out laughing.

“Min, if they were supposed to be scary like you are right now, I don’t think anyone would’ve run away from them,” he teased, earning a soft smile from the older boy.

“Minosaurus,” the alien said, blending Minho’s name with 'dinosaur' clearly amused making Minho’s face flush completely red.

Of all things, he hadn’t expected that, a pun far too adorable and far too appreciated.

“I like it…minosaurus,” he said before shaking his head and starting to chase Jisung down the corridor, threatening to bite him

They eventually finished the tour, saving the space exhibit for last.

Minho took Jisung’s hand and led him into the dark room: the ceiling, pitch black, was dotted with tiny white lights recreating the night sky, while the walls displayed iridescent nebulas, spiral galaxies, and planets that seemed to float all around them.

Jisung looked around and tightened his grip on the other’s hand, as if searching for comfort.

He no longer considered that place his home, nor did he feel any nostalgia for it; on the contrary, it suffocated him, it separated him from the only thing that mattered to him: Minho.

“You come from here, right? From somewhere in all this immensity?” Minho asked, looking around, lost in the wonder.

Jisung nodded silently, beginning to fidget with the ring on his finger.

Minho immediately noticed how tension had taken hold of him and guided him toward the seats along the wall.

“Is something wrong?” Minho asked, trying to meet his gaze, yet Jisung’s eyes were anywhere but on him, distant, drifting from galaxy to galaxy without settling.

“Hey,” Minho squeezed his hand gently to pull him back, and at last Jisung’s gaze orbited back to him.

The alien looked at him, lips pressed into a thin line, swallowing hard, unwilling to speak.

Minho waited patiently, but doubt began to creep in, he had wanted this outing to make him feel better, but hadn’t considered that showing him space might hurt him. How could he have known?

“Come on, let’s go,” he said simply, standing up, ready to leave. But Jisung stopped him, tugging lightly and refusing to let go of his hand.

“Sorry, Min…” he murmured, lowering his gaze.

Minho sat back down and moved even closer, closing the distance completely, just in case Jisung needed comfort.

“It doesn’t matter,” the older boy said with a small shake of his head, waiting for him to speak.

“You know,” he began, lifting his eyes toward the star-filled ceiling, “I’ve always wondered if there was life beyond Earth. And the fact that I now have proof of it, that you’re here in front of me, it still feels unreal.”

A soft, genuine laugh escaped him, making Jisung lift his head.

“And then…I realized that I don’t know anything about you,” he added suddenly, turning toward Jisung, who was now staring at him, his large eyes reflecting whole galaxies in their depths.

“I have no idea how you lived before, what the place you come from is like, or why you ended up here,” he finally said, showing a tender smile to the alien who silently listened, noticing a hint of sadness in his words.

“Maybe I made a mistake bringing you here,” he sighed, not out of boredom or disappointment, but out of personal regret, his thoughts focused on the other and on the possibility of having hurt him.

“Maybe it’s a place you don’t want to see again, and I dragged you back to it,” he apologized, scratching his head shyly, ready to stand up again, but Jisung leaned forward and placed his other hand on top of his to stop him, determined to speak.

“I…” he whispered, clearing his throat, gathering the courage. “I ran away from my planet,” he finally admitted, feeling an enormous weight lift from his shoulders.

“I couldn’t stand living in such an empty, sad world anymore, where I meant nothing to anyone, where I was a nobody, just one among many. I’m sure no one even noticed I was gone,” he explained all in one breath, letting out everything he had kept inside for months, years.

“I traveled for a long time before finding a place that could host me, and I went through a lot. Leaving home wasn’t easy either, but in the end, what is ‘home’ if there’s no one waiting for you when you return?” he asked, feeling his chest tighten in a painful grip.

“It hurt every day to stay there, more than enduring a planet rejecting my body,” he said, curling into himself.

“You call them ghosts, right? That’s what I was in my world,” he tried to compare, to make the message clearer, but Minho had understood perfectly from the beginning and had squeezed his hand throughout his confession.

“Then I found Earth…it seemed like a colorful, calm, warm place, and I decided to settle here even though it wasn’t suitable for me. I didn’t even have the strength to start yet another journey in search of yet another planet,” he admitted, shrugging.

“And then I saw you,” he said, making Minho’s eyes brighten. “You were the first human I ever met. I saw you pass by every morning at the same time, not understanding what you were doing, where you were going, and so many other things I later discovered…”

Minho had so many questions to ask him, but he didn’t want to pressure him, so he simply waited for Jisung to go on.

“When you disappeared, I felt lost… because you had become my point of reference, my compass, you know… you kept track of when I had to go back down and return to space.”

Minho blinked, surprised by those words, and smiled faintly at the thought.

“Then I didn’t see you pass by for days, and somehow I felt alone…abandoned,” he admitted, lowering his gaze shyly, avoiding the boy’s now intense stare.

“And I did something really stupid, taking on your appearance so I could walk among you and…well, stop feeling so alone,” he finally concluded, shifting his eyes toward the flowers resting on the chair.

“Do you really think that was stupid?” Minho asked, his heart beating faster in front of the alien.

Jisung shook his head. “At first, yes. I was scared. But then you came along…and from that moment, you were always there for me. You stayed… and you gave me everything I needed…”

The blonde’s hands rested on Minho’s legs as he leaned closer to him, closing every bit of distance between them.

“You gave me a home…no,” he corrected himself, shaking his head, “you are my home.”

Those words stole Minho’s breath away; he felt his heart tremble and his eyes blur.

“I don’t miss anything anymore, now that I’m here, with you. I don’t want to go back to space or to my planet…I want to stay with you.”

The room lit up pink, then green; the colors of the aurora painted the Minho's loving expression as he leaned toward the alien to steal a kiss.

It was gentle, light, like a butterfly landing on a flower to taste its nectar. Their lips barely brushed, their fingers intertwined.

The alien’s hand found refuge on Minho’s chest, clutching his jacket between his fingertips as a tear ran down his cheek. He clung to his clothes, chasing Minho’s lips and deepening the kiss with desperation.

He needed to touch something real, to know he was far from a reality where he was alone, from a place where no one cared about him, and in Minho he found the answer to everything.

Minho slid a hand under the alien’s chin and gently guided his movements before pulling away and resting his forehead against his, millions of stars witnessing their kiss, silence surrounding them, alone in that shelter of planets and galaxies.

“You’re not alone anymore, Jisung. I’ll always be the place you can come back to whenever you need.”

Chapter Text

“Min, I’m scared…” the alien admitted, flailing his arms in the air in search of something to hold on to, a blindfold covering his eyes, his senses completely blocked, his steps uncertain as they sank into the soft ground.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” Minho reassured him, taking his hand and guiding him toward that unknown place he had decided to drag him to.

“We’re almost there, watch out,” he said, making him lift his foot so he wouldn’t trip over the rock on the ground.

The wind suddenly struck his hair once they reached the top of the hill, ruffling his long blond locks, and then Minho slipped off the blindfold, freeing him from the darkness.

Before him stretched an immense field of sunflowers, and beside it what remained of the previous season.

“Unfortunately, in autumn there aren’t many lush flower fields, but I hope you’ll still like the view,” Minho explained, settling beside him, so close that their shoulders touched as they bore witness to the scene.

The flowers before them were few, scattered; among the dry grass small purple asters poked through, along with pale patches of muted colors, almost afraid to be noticed. A vast expanse of daisies filled the rest of the meadow, resilient and proudly standing tall among the blades of grass. The wind bent them gently without breaking them, cradling them with its caresses, the rustling of leaves the only sound in that silence surrounded by nature.

“Min…this is so beautiful,” the alien murmured breathlessly, taking a few shy steps forward, captivated by that beauty.

“What are those…?” he asked curiously, pointing at the sunflowers, now bent under the weight of autumn, their petals faded and their heads lowered toward the earth rather than the sun, the light only a memory of their gaze.

“Sunflowers,” Minho replied, taking his hand and moving closer.

“They’re called that because they’re always turned toward the sun,” he explained, gesturing to the sun behind them.

“But their time is over now. We’ll be able to see them at their best again in spring, when they’ll return radiant,” he continued, watching the alien’s expression grow darker.

“It’s a bit like when we humans go to sleep, right? We hide under the blankets and then in the morning we come back out. Flowers hide underground, and after some time they return,” the older one tried, hoping to lift his spirits.

Jisung didn’t seem too convinced, so Minho decided to change tactics. On impulse, he tickled his side to force a smile out of him, but when Jisung startled and pulled back, ready to protect himself, Minho blinked in surprise.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” Minho said with a mischievous smile, his hands now raised, ready to attack.

“Min?” the alien asked, almost frightened, stepping back slightly before being ambushed by the other, who began to attack from every side.

The older boy’s fingers traveled across his stomach to his sides, making him writhe in place. A loud, ringing laugh burst from his lips, a sound Minho had never heard so clearly before.

“Min…stop! Stop, please, I can’t breathe!” Jisung begged, curling in on himself like a hedgehog to block the other’s access, but his knees gave way and he fell to the ground, dragging the other down with him.

Now Minho was on top of him, still tickling him mercilessly.

Jisung fought back and shoved him aside, ending up reversing their positions, but it didn’t last long, as the two of them ended up rolling down the hill.

Their laughter merged into a single echo across the valley, while the grass scratched them with every tumble. The sky spun along with them, blue and distant, their bodies wrapped around each other as they rolled downhill.

Then they stopped, one sprawled atop the other, breathless, surrounded by that blanket of daisies.

The boy’s heart stopped once again at the sight of the alien beneath him, so beautiful, so breathtaking.

His blond hair lay messily across his face, a few leaves caught in his strands making him look even more endearing. His rosy cheeks, perhaps from all the laughter, or from embarrassment, Minho couldn’t tell, contrasted with the dark color of his eyes, large and shining.

A hint of a smile lingered on his face, now fading beneath Minho’s serious expression.

The alien’s hands were clenched at Minho’s hips, still gripping his body, searching for purchase during the fall.

Minho brushed a lock of hair away from Jisung’s face and removed the leaves tangled in his hair, feeling his own heartbeat quicken every time his fingers grazed his skin.

Their breaths mingled, so close they were, their eyes drawn like magnets toward a single point, intent on taking the same step, their lips the object of the same desire.

Minho leaned down slightly, brushing the alien’s nose, aligning himself with his face before stealing a kiss from him among the flowers.

Jisung tightened his grip on Minho’s jacket, feeling those emotions flow through him once more, and closed his eyes, trying to ignore that annoying sensation that tickled his stomach every time.

He could never quite get used to it, but it was something that gave him pleasure.

Their bodies lay stretched out among the grass and dry leaves, the wind softly caressing them, the blue sky above their heads, their lips joined in a delicate gesture of love.

Minho pulled away shortly after, his kisses always gentle and never beyond a certain limit, calm, quiet, careful not to frighten the creature.

He looked down at him as if he were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, his amber eyes filled with love, his heart trembling.

Jisung, sprawled on the ground, gazed up at him, lost in his eyes, lips parted, breath short.

“Min…” he whispered, not because he wanted anything in particular from him, but because he loved the sound of his name, loved calling him, loved knowing he had someone by his side to talk to.

“Yes?” Minho asked, blinking several times, anxious about the words that might follow, but silence filled that moment, making the anxiety inside him grow.

Jisung moved his hand from Minho’s side to his shirt and tugged at the fabric to pull the human closer, their faces once again just a few centimeters apart.

Minho’s eyes widened, surprised by the gesture, his body tense like a violin string at that unspoken request.

“Do you…do you want me to kiss you?” Minho asked, unsure he had understood his desire correctly.

Jisung stared at him intently and nodded in silence.

Minho lost himself once again in those dark eyes, his chest brushing against the creature’s, then he kissed him again, this time with more intensity.

He deepened the kiss as he felt Jisung’s fingers tug at his shirt and his body melt beneath him.

His lips moved over the alien’s with a different kind of tenderness, deeper now, pressing his upper lip against the other’s lower one, making them fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle.

He gripped the alien’s arm to steady himself and tilted his head to the side, finding a different angle, more passionate.

Jisung felt his body tremble at the sensation and let out a small whimper against the older boy’s lips, unable to process those feelings.

Minho pulled away soon after to catch his breath, his cheeks burning and flushed, and hid his face against the blond’s chest so as not to show his foolish expression.

God, how he loved Jisung. Every time he was with him, he felt as if he were touching the sky; every time he kissed him, his heart ached in his chest from how hard it beat.

Even now, resting against the other’s body, it was running a marathon, unable to calm down. Jisung could feel it through their clothes, could feel his warmth spreading through his own body, his hair tickling his face.

He lifted his arms from the ground and wrapped them around the older boy’s body, craving that contact, that warmth, his presence.

He held him close, closing his eyes, letting the moment flow gently, like his fingers through the boy’s hair.

Minho’s eyes flew open at that touch, he wasn’t used to receiving affection from the other. It was a new sensation, pleasant, pure. He hid a smile against Jisung’s chest and relaxed under his touch.

“To sleep,” the alien suddenly spoke, playing with Minho’s brown strands as he searched for the meaning of that word.

“Earlier you said when humans go to sleep…do you mean like that time you had a fever?” he asked, recalling how the two of them had settled on the couch under a blanket and Minho had collapsed from exhaustion, leaving the other to keep him company in the silence.

Minho nodded, opening his eyes again, watching the daisies in front of him as he stretched out a hand to pick one.

“Do you think we could do it again?”

At that question, Minho blinked and pushed himself up so he could look at him properly.

“It’s something humans do regularly, right…? I want to learn too,” he admitted, pouting slightly.

Minho felt his chest tighten painfully, the desire to sleep together with Jisung now settling deep in his heart, even though it seemed like something impossible to achieve.

“Jisung…” he parted his lips as if to continue, but he didn’t know how to go on, so he began to nervously toy with the flower’s stem between his fingers.

“If it’s impossible for you to stay on Earth at night, then I don’t think we can…” the boy finally found the courage to say, worrying his lower lip with his teeth.

“Min,” Jisung interrupted him, offering a gentle smile before shaking his head.

“I’ve never told you this, but it doesn’t matter whether it’s day or night. It’s true that I have a certain limit on the hours I can stay, but I can decide when that time starts,” he confessed, reaching out to take the daisy from Minho’s fingers.

“I chose to come down during the day because I’ve always lived in the dark, and I discovered the sun only thanks to Earth…but I can stay at night too,” he continued, placing the flower by his ear, tucking it into his brown hair.

Minho blinked, his eyes wide with surprise. A little laugh escaped his lips, making him feel almost silly for having worried so much.

“Really?..” he asked, his mind now racing with a million things they could do together at night.

“So we could even go to the cinema.”

“Cinema??” Jisung repeated, confused.

“It’s a place where they show movies on a giant screen!”

“You mean I could see dragons at full size???” the alien exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement under him, making Minho roll onto his side.

Minho sprawled on the grass, turning his head to look at him.

The two of them burst into laughter, their eyes meeting among the blades of grass. Their hands reached for each other across the fresh earth, brushing through leaves, and intertwined.

“Yes, you can see gigantic dragons, and more!” Minho said, matching his enthusiasm as he explained the magic of the cinema.

“And we can sleep together…” he added, turning red just at the thought.

It was incredible how Minho lived every moment with Jisung as if it were part of a fairytale. He never tired of Jisung’s presence; it didn’t matter that they saw each other every day, when he wasn’t around, he missed him like air. The possibility of having him by his side even at night made his heart race.

Jisung, on the other hand, was always excited to learn new things, to live like a human, and even if his habits changed in that way, it didn’t matter because his point of reference remained the same.

“Is there anything else I should know about you?” Minho joked, trying to ease his racing thoughts.

“You can turn into a cat, you come from space, you don’t know what dinosaurs are, and you’re ridiculously cute,” Minho scolded, tapping the tip of his nose.

“Anything else before I share a bed with an alien??”

Jisung furrowed his brow, concentrating hard, thinking intently about the answer.

“I could squeeze you in your sleep!!! Like those big animals with tentacles they show on TV… or I could even become one myself.”

Minho jumped up from the ground, shouting and pointing a finger at him.

“Jisung, don’t you dare!!”

The alien burst into laughter and copied him, starting to chase him across the field while pretending to be an octopus.

Chapter Text

That morning Minho woke up early and ran down the stairs as usual, only to remember that Jisung wouldn’t show up at the usual time. He stopped in front of the door and blinked several times, hiding an awkward smile behind his hand.

After months in which his routine had always stayed the same and the alien’s presence had become indispensable, Minho felt rather lost.

Everything felt so strange, so empty and quiet; he knew he would see him anyway in the afternoon, but getting used to his absence was still difficult.

So he took the opportunity to contact Chan and ask him to meet up and grab a coffee together after a long time.

“Minho, you’ve disappeared off the face of the earth,” the older one scolded him as he sat down at the table, after ordering two coffees.

Minho followed him with a sigh and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

“Did something happen?” Chan asked, noticing the other’s palpable agitation. His leg was shaking under the table and his eyes kept staring at a point in the void.

It wasn’t hard to put into words the feelings he had for Jisung, they were clear by now. What he feared was the other’s judgment or his reaction.

“Minho?” Chan insisted, noticing his silence.

“I fell in love,” he said before Chan could open his mouth again, making the teaspoon slip from his hands.

“Excuse me?” he asked, leaning closer, thinking he had misheard.

Minho felt his cheeks heat up, his face turning red.

“I like Jisung, Chan…” he finally confessed, timidly stirring the sugar in his cup.

There was a moment of silence, just long enough to process the news, then Chan parted his lips.

“Who is Jisung?” he asked, perplexed, furrowing his brow.

Minho nearly choked on his coffee at that question, only then remembering how little he had told his friend about the alien.

“Do you remember the alien…” Minho began, blowing on the hot liquid.

“His name is Jisung now…” he said, lifting his eyes from the coffee to meet Chan’s.

“You gave him a name??” the older man asked incredulously, glancing around as if someone might be listening to their surreal conversation.

Minho nodded, pressing his lips together, taking a sip of his drink before setting the cup down on the table.

“We also kissed,” he confessed, this time nearly making the other choke.

“What?!” Chan shouted, making everyone else turn in their direction before clearing his throat and lowering his voice.

“You kissed…the alien???” Chan whispered, shocked, almost spilling his cup.

“Yes…” the boy confirmed, looking away shyly.

“This conversation can’t be real,” he shook his head, leaning back against the chair, exhausted.

“Now you have to tell me everything,” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands over his face, trying not to lose his mind over the situation.

Minho told him how the two of them had, in a way, become intimate; how much they both craved each other’s company, how clingy they were throughout the day, and how, little by little, his feelings for the alien had nestled into his heart.

He spoke about their experiences and about the alien’s life beyond Earth, his eyes shining as he talked, his expression softening at the mere sound of his name.

As absurd as Chan found the idea of falling in love with an alien, he couldn’t do anything but support that beautiful emotion that seeped through every single word spoken by his friend.

“Love has no boundaries, huh,” he said, sipping the last drop of his coffee.

“I don’t know if he’s understood what kissing implies or what love is, but I don’t care, Chan. I’ve never felt this happy, this at home with someone,” Minho confessed, a tender smile painted across his face.

“I can see that…” Chan commented, reaching a hand out to rest it on his shoulder.

“And it’s beautiful, Minho…it’s what you deserve. I’m sure Jisung’s innocence and purity are exactly what you need, and you’re the security and stability he needs. It’s as if you were made for each other,” he said, making the boy in front of him blush fiercely as he lowered his gaze in embarrassment.

“So, anyway…you were saying you’re taking him to the movies tonight,” he went back to the main topic, giving the poor, lovestruck boy a break.

Minho nodded and smiled softly.

“I want to be his first time for everything…maybe it’s stupid or selfish, but I want him to see the world with innocence and curiosity, and for his purity not to be ruined by people’s malice and cruelty. I don’t think I’m special, but I’m happy it happened with me.”

“Oh, Minho, you are special, very much so, and I’ve told you that before. But he’s really lucky to have found you. Even if you don’t often show it in front of me, you have a tender heart, full of love to give,” he stated more firmly than ever.

“Try to enjoy every moment with him and…don’t forget about me. Let’s go out together every now and then! Now that he’s learned how to speak, I’d like to exchange a few words with him.”

“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry for disappearing like that,” Minho said, lowering his gaze apologetically.

“I thought you’d been kidnapped by an alien, oh wait—” Chan joked, bursting out laughing on his own before receiving a punch on the shoulder from the other.

They said goodbye and went back to their lives, with the promise of a group outing in the following days.

Minho stopped by the florist and bought a fresh bouquet of cosmos flowers for when Jisung would land at his place, then headed home early with the excuse of studying.

Classes would start again soon, and he couldn’t afford to fall behind.

The afternoon passed slowly; every half hour Minho stopped to look at the clock, waiting for Jisung’s arrival, impatient, almost praying for time to move faster.

He couldn’t wait to take him to the cinema, to let him experience something he still found magical even after countless times.

Just as he finally managed to focus, he heard the doorbell ring and dropped his books on the bed to run and open the door.

“Min!” Jisung jumped on him, hugging him tightly. He held him close, hiding his face against his chest and rubbing his nose against his hoodie, the way a cat does with its owner.

“I missed you,” he complained, almost with tears in his eyes.

“I thought I was going crazy…I didn’t know when to come down, how long to wait, what to do,” he said, lifting his gaze, a glossy sheen covering his dilated pupils.

“Hey, no, no, no, don’t cry. You’re here now, it’s okay,” Minho said, cupping his face in his hands and giving him a tender kiss on the nose.

Jisung sniffed, his little pout still present on his chubby face. Minho then placed another kiss on his forehead, then one on his cheek and then the other, tickling him and drawing a soft smile from him.

“Is it better now?” he asked, stroking his back, and the alien nodded, rubbing against him once again.

They then went upstairs to get ready, and when Jisung noticed the flowers on the desk, a smile bloomed across his face.

“Are you ready?” Minho asked enthusiastically, taking him by the hand.

The alien bounced in place, agitated, and tugged Minho toward the exit.

“Not yet,” the boy burst out laughing. “There are still a few hours,” he explained, guiding him back toward the bed and making him sit down on the mattress.

“But look, I got you a new book, about dragons.”

He said, as he pulled the little gift out of the drawer, handing it to him carefully. Jisung looked at it, then lifted his eyes to the other.

“For me???” the alien pointed at himself before taking it, and Minho nodded.

He examined the cover in silence, stroking it and feeling the slightly raised design beneath his fingers. A dragon with azure scales was printed on it, and a little girl was reaching out a hand to touch its snout.

“It looks beautiful!!” he leaned toward the other, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist and resting his cheek against his stomach.

Minho lifted a hand and stroked his hair, smiling.

“I thought that by now you’re able to read more complex books, and this one really caught my eye because of the cover,especially after discovering your love for dragons. I grabbed it right away; I couldn’t leave it there,” he explained, playing with the creature’s locks between his fingers.

Jisung pulled back slightly and looked up at him, his big eyes shining as always.

“And I thought that…well, this way you’ll have something to pass the time with when you’re alone in space,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck shyly.

“Thank you, Min…I always feel so lonely up there,” the alien replied, sitting back down and clutching the book to his chest.

“I wish I could live normally on Earth…” he said, lowering his gaze, but Minho was quick to gently take his chin and lift his mood.

“Hey, no sad thoughts! What matters is that we can be together, right? Come on, we can’t go to the cinema with that gloomy expression, okay? Give me a smile,” Minho encouraged him, drawing a tender grimace from the alien.

They set that conversation aside and started playing, cuddled up under the blanket, before having dinner together for the first time.

Jisung had started to sense the taste of food, or maybe it was just a feeling born from the desire to feel it. Even so, he had gotten used to that human ritual and no longer found it so strange, even if it was completely useless to him.

They finally left the house, and Minho gave the alien yet another first time by letting him get into the car.

“A car?? You know…”

“How to drive it?” Minho supplied, opening the door for him so he could sit down.

Jisung nodded and settled into the seat, beginning to look around curiously, drawn to the various devices inside.

Minho leaned toward him, bending forward to grab the seat belt and fasten it around him.

“This is for safety,” he explained with a smile.

Jisung slipped a finger under the belt and pulled it forward, away from his body, only for it to snap back against him a second after he let go.

He stared at it, puzzled, before turning to Minho, now seated beside him at the wheel.

“I hope it doesn’t scare you. After all, you drive a spaceship, it shouldn’t be that different,” the boy joked as he started the car, lighting up all the little indicators inside.

Jisung watched everything in awe and nearly jumped at the engine’s roar, accustomed as he was to the silence of his vessel in space.

Feeling the ground rush so quickly beneath his feet was a strange sensation, just as it was for humans when an airplane lifted off and the void stretched out beneath them.

“Everything okay?” Minho asked, turning toward him to make sure he was fine, but Jisung seemed captivated by the scenery flowing past the window and by the lights of the night along the road.

He had never seen Earth at night; everything felt much quieter and darker, almost nostalgic, similar to space and all the tiny lights of the stars.

“What is this for?” the alien suddenly asked after seeing Minho use it several times during their ride.

“Oh, this?” Minho said.

“It’s for changing gears…hmm, it’s a bit like changing clothes depending on the temperature, depending on the car’s speed, you have to change it,” he tried to explain with a simple comparison, before being flooded with just as many questions about every button on the dashboard that caught Jisung’s attention.

The trip didn’t last long, maybe because it was filled with their chatter, or maybe because time seemed to fly in each other’s company, but in any case, they arrived at the cinema just in time for the movie to start.

As soon as they walked in, the smell of popcorn flooded their senses and a murmur of people hit them, standing in line.

“Come on,” Minho said, taking him by the hand and leading him toward the counter.

He had already bought the tickets online, but he had no intention of letting the alien experience the cinema without munching on some popcorn, imagining the typical romantic date where the two touch hands while grabbing fries from the same container.

They didn’t need that kind of contact, they had long since moved past that stage, but Minho was a simple, lovestruck boy, and sharing something with the person he loved never felt trivial.

“What are those?” Jisung asked curiously as they walked toward the theater.

“They’re called popcorn. It’s a snack humans usually eat here,” Minho explained, pushing the door open to let the other go in first.

Jisung stepped inside and stopped on the parquet floor, taking in the long rows of seats and the gigantic screen set in front of them. He pointed at it, astonished, and Minho nodded.

“Yes, we’ll watch the movie there,” he said, climbing the steps while guiding the alien, who, bouncing with excitement, couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

They finally sat down in their seats and waited for the movie to begin, starting to munch on the popcorn.

“Do you like them?” Minho asked, treating him as if he were human. He didn’t know that Jisung didn’t need to eat, nor that he barely felt anything when he did, but Jisung nodded anyway, plunging his hand into the container and grabbing a handful.

Then the lights went out and darkness engulfed the theater.

Jisung looked around, confused, and Minho gave a few light pats to his thigh to point out the screen, which would soon light up.

And then it happened: an intense, expansive light filled the theater, drawing the alien’s gaze. Colors came to life larger than reality, and the sounds wrapped around him like an embrace, vibrating against his chest.

Jisung’s eyes widened, completely lost in that immersive world, feeling part of a reality that didn’t belong to him, facing battles that weren’t his, rooting for the protagonist, crying at his defeats, clinging to Minho’s arm, utterly overwhelmed by emotion.

Then the two protagonists kissed, and the alien squeezed the other's hand, captivated by that scene so intense and profound. He laced their fingers together, making Minho turn toward him.

He didn't understand what that image awakened inside him, but little by little the alien began to connect that gesture, that intimate contact, with the emotions it stirred, with the pleasure it brought, with the desire that grew every time he wanted to feel it again.

"Did you like it?" Minho asked, turning toward the alien, who looked at him in silence for a few seconds before pushing himself up on the armrests and placing a kiss on Minho's lips, imitating what he had just absorbed from the film.

Minho froze. His eyelids fluttered uncontrollably, his lips parted, his heart racing.

Of all the reactions he might have expected from the other, that was the last one.

Jisung looked at him intently, waiting for a response, but Minho, unable to process what had happened, said nothing.

"Min?" the alien called worriedly, afraid he had done something wrong. But when Minho leaned back toward him to return the kiss silence fell once again.

Around them, the murmur of voices faded into the distance and the lights came on, doing anything but interrupting that moment.

Minho let himself be carried away completely by his emotions, deepening that kiss more than he should have, pressing a hand against his own leg to release some of that passion.

Jisung struggled to follow that rhythm, not because it was overwhelming; on the contrary, it was gentle, deep, far too slow and warm for him and for his body to manage.

Jisung placed a hand on Minho's leg as if to steady himself, and then they pulled apart to catch their breath.

Their eyes met, both now searching for an escape, equally embarrassed by what had just happened.

“S-shall we go?” Minho urged, standing up, and the alien nodded, following him.

That silence didn’t last long and was broken the moment they reached the car. Jisung began talking about how he had felt during the movie, about how amazing the effects were, imitating the protagonists’ moves, creating onomatopoeias and little sounds with his mouth that Minho found adorable.

They finally returned home, locking the door behind them.

Minho motioned for the alien to keep quiet, afraid of waking his mother, and they slowly climbed the stairs, hiding a few giggles behind the palms of their hands.

They shut themselves in the bedroom, and Minho rummaged through a drawer in search of some pajamas to lend him.

“Here, try these,” he said, handing him the garment, instantly making Jisung the happiest person, or rather, creature, in the universe.

“It smells like you,” he exclaimed, hugging it to himself, making Minho blush as he quickly grabbed his own pajamas and ran to the bathroom to change.

He paused to look at his reflection in the mirror, a smile constantly on his face at the thought of what was to come.

He was going to sleep with Jisung that night, their first night together.

Then he thought about the kiss from earlier, and his stomach immediately fluttered. He still hadn’t understood why Jisung had done it, but it had completely taken him by surprise, so much so that he hadn’t even managed to fully enjoy the feeling as he would have liked.

That was why he hadn’t been able to control himself and had kissed him again.

He shook his head, smiling once more. He was so happy.

He quickly changed, washed up, and ran back to the bedroom, where Jisung was waiting for him, sitting on the bed.

“So, did you like it?”

“So much!” he bounced on the bed enthusiastically, hugging his plush toy.

Minho gave him a smile before turning off the light, leaving only the small lamp to softly illuminate the room.

“I’m glad,” he said, sitting beside him before lifting the sheets and motioning for him to crawl underneath.

Jisung looked at him and crawled under the covers, bringing his plush toy along.

Minho felt his heart speed up at the thought of sleeping next to the person he cared about most in the world.

He settled beside him, and when he turned over, he found himself face to face with the alien, his big eyes staring at him in silence, the plush toy covering half of his face.

“So this is how you humans spend the night?” he asked curiously, fiddling with the toy’s antennae.

“Well…yes. We need to sleep to recharge,” Minho replied, brushing a lock of hair that was a bit too long away from the alien’s eyes.

Jisung hid shyly behind the plush toy at that gesture, the silence now his enemy as it brought back the moment at the cinema.

He didn’t understand why he had felt the instinct to kiss him, but it was something he had discovered he liked, just like hugging him.

So he set the plush toy aside and moved closer, hiding his face against Minho’s chest, slipping one arm beneath the human’s.

Minho stiffened slightly, but it didn’t take long for him to relax again and wrap the other completely in his arms.

He placed a hand on his head and began to play with his hair, while Jisung closed his eyes, lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“And do you do it with someone?” he asked innocently, his words tickling Minho’s chest.

“Not really…I mean, it depends,” Minho tried not to panic, increasing the pace of his caresses, agitated.

Jisung could perceive every change in emotion through his heartbeat.

“Normally you do it alone…but when you have someone you care about, you tend to do it as a pair…you share the same bed. I don’t know if I’m explaining it well,” Minho tried, sighing as he searched for the right words.

“It’s a very delicate moment, when two people relax. You know, when you come back tired from your days and you meet again under the covers to cuddle and—”

Jisung immediately connected the word sleep with cuddling and began rubbing his face against Minho’s chest, tickling his neck with his golden strands.

“I like cuddles,” he said, clinging to him, intertwining their legs and trapping him, just as he had promised he would if he ever turned into an octopus.

“And I like cuddling you,” Minho replied, placing a kiss on top of his head.

“I like you,” he whispered, closing his eyes and falling asleep while holding Jisung close.

Chapter Text

The first light of dawn filtered through the blinds, settling on the alien’s face as he opened his eyes and woke up.

In truth, he had never actually fallen asleep; it wasn’t something he did, not even during his waits in space. The only thing he was capable of reaching was a light doze, in which he kept his eyes closed but never slipped into a deep sleep, nor did he have the ability to dream.

A stab of pain made him squeeze his eyes shut and shift position, turning onto his side and settling against Minho’s chest in search of comfort, wrapping his arms around the warm body beneath the covers.

He hid his face from the light and tucked it beneath the other’s chin, continuing to ignore the signals his body was sending him.

He felt Minho breathe deeply and tighten his arms around him, unwilling to let him go.

Jisung rubbed his face against Minho’s pajamas, closing his eyes again, curling in on himself with every twinge, trying to think of something else, clinging to the other as if it might help him endure the pain.

He didn’t want to go and leave Minho alone. Had he miscalculated the hours? Had he acted on impulse and come down earlier than he should have? Or did he simply have no idea what time it was?

He clenched his teeth and let the other’s scent flood his senses, soothing the pain.

At first, it seemed to work, but it only held for an hour at most before he began to tremble.

He whimpered, holding his breath, afraid of waking the other, and tightened his fingers in Minho’s pajamas.

“Jisung…?” Minho finally whispered, opening his eyes as he felt the other continue to stir nervously beside him.

His voice was thick with sleep, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“Min…” the other replied to the call, his voice a prayer for help, and Minho immediately jumped to his feet, completely forgetting about sleep.

“Jisung, are you okay?” he asked, taking the alien’s hands and helping him up gently, then moving toward the nightstand to look for his phone and check the time.

It was six in the morning, the hour at which Jisung had reached his limit.

“You have to go back,” he said, his voice gentle as he caressed him.

Jisung shook his head. “I don’t want to.”

“But you have to,” the older one insisted, getting out of bed and letting go of his grip.

“Here, take this with you, so you’ll have something to pass the time, and when you’re done you’ll tell me all about it, okay?” he said, handing him the book with a tired smile on his face.

"But I wanted to sleep with you…" he refused once again, making things even harder for Minho, who couldn’t bring himself to be angry with him, but even less could bear to see him suffer.

Then he had an idea.

“I don’t know if it’ll work in space, but use this to keep track of time,” he said, handing him the phone he had bought for him.

“You don’t have to use it for anything else, just check the time. When it’s eight in the evening, come down, you’ll find me waiting,” he added simply, hugging the other.

“So we can sleep together again, and this time without interruptions, okay?” He said, pulling away to cup the alien’s face in his hands and squeeze it gently.

Jisung nodded, surrendering to his fate, and after reluctantly dragging himself out from under the covers, took the book and the phone and said goodbye to Minho with one last hug.

Minho couldn’t fall back asleep. He thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep with someone beside him anymore, having lost the habit, but as soon as Jisung had curled up next to him, he had collapsed into rest.

He decided to tidy up the room a bit and study as much as possible to catch up on his lessons. He even found the energy to leave the house and go for a run. It had been a long time since he had done that, he had lost the habit when he started university and moved to another city.

He needed to regain control of his life because, once again, he had clung to something other than himself to keep going.

He put on his headphones, dressed warmly, and ran three laps around the neighborhood, taking up the entire morning. He returned home exhausted at lunchtime, completely without appetite. He took a hot shower and dried his hair, brushing it softly over his forehead as usual.

Then he studied a little more, and to pass the time faster, he started baking cookies. Fortunately, his mother wasn’t around much and often spent entire days out of town, so Minho didn’t have to worry about her intrusive questions or get too used to Jisung’s presence, by the time she came home, he was already gone.

Memories resurfaced as soon as he gathered the ingredients, and one by one, he remembered how Jisung had tried to repeat their names.

That was the day Minho realized he felt something for Jisung.

It seemed like only a few days had passed since they had met, yet their paths had already intertwined for months. Jisung had learned so much, and yet he had remained the same, pure, curious, not having lost any of his qualities.

Minho smiled at the thought alone, preparing the dough with care, replaying the scenes of the last time to feel the other’s presence close by.

Back then, Jisung could barely speak; thinking that he could now talk normally made Minho realize just how much time they had truly spent together.

He put the cookies in the oven just before the alien arrived, so he could offer them warm, and let himself sink onto the couch, scrolling absentmindedly through images on his phone, looking for places to show him, places to share. The list he had made a few days ago already included the cinema and the museum, checked off as done, but he couldn’t wait to add new stops and needed fresh ideas.

Then the doorbell rang, and Minho glanced at his phone clock: 8:10.

He jumped up, tossing the phone onto the couch, and hurried to open the door. But the moment he did, Jisung threw himself into his arms, tears streaming down his face as he sobbed.

“Jisung??” he asked immediately, stepping back inside and closing the door to keep out the cold.

“What happened? Why are you crying?” he asked, gently cupping his head and brushing the hair from his face.

The alien sobbed, running his hands over his cheeks, wiping away tears that kept falling anyway.

“Th-the dragon… i-it melted,” he said between sobs, nervously tugging at his sweatshirt sleeves to cover his hands.

Minho blinked, confused, not understanding what he was talking about. When he heard the timer on the oven go off, he turned toward the kitchen, unsure of what to do.

He took Jisung by the hand and led him to the kitchen, unwilling to let the cookies he had prepared with so much care burn, but also unwilling to ignore the other’s needs nor leave him alone.

“What dragon are you talking about?” he asked, his tone patient and calm, as he turned off the oven and rummaged in the drawer for a potholder, never letting go of Jisung’s hand.

Jisung pulled the book out of his jacket, and Minho understood immediately.

“The girl cared about the dragon…why did they took him away from her?” he continued, sobbing, while Minho carefully pulled the cookie tray out with one hand, setting it on the table before giving his full attention back to the alien.

“He was made of ice, and the fire dragons attacked him and made him melt,” he said, his cheeks red, his face adorably like a lost little puppy.

“Oh, Jisung…I wouldn’t have given it to you if I’d known it would end badly,” Minho apologized, stroking his hair.

“But don’t worry, it’s just a story. No dragon really melted,” he tried to reassure him, holding his hand tightly.

“It’s a made-up story, just like the movies we watch or the video games we play. They all come from imagination,” he explained, giving him a tender smile.

Jisung rubbed his eye weakly with his sleeve, sniffing as he finally calmed down at Minho’s words.

“Really?” he asked, pouting, not entirely convinced.

“Of course. Unfortunately, dragons don’t exist; we can only see them drawn or on TV, so no dragon got hurt. Don’t worry,” Minho reassured him, wiping away the last tear with his thumb.

Minho had been worried about Jisung’s reaction to the concept of death, and also feared that he didn’t understand it at all, but he always tried to skirt around it and not think about it.

“Come, look, I made..”

“Cookies!” the alien interrupted, instantly remembering not so much their taste, since he couldn’t perceive it, but the whole process of making them.

“Eggs, sugar, flour, butter,” he began listing, making Minho burst out laughing, his hand pressed to his stomach in amusement.

“You still remember? Good job,” he praised him, picking up a cookie, blowing on it lightly before bringing it to Jisung’s face and feeding it to him.

Jisung chewed in silence and nodded as if to say it was good, though in reality he couldn’t truly tell if something was good or bad.

“Do you want to watch a movie? We still need to see the third one with the dragons,” Minho suggested, and Jisung jumped for joy, following him upstairs.

Together they carried the cookies and a blanket to shield themselves from the cold and settled into their nest of cushions. It was something Jisung loved to do, be surrounded by things that made him feel safe: his plush toy, his sweatshirt with Minho’s scent, and Minho himself.

He curled up next to the human, and together they grabbed cookies from the bowl; every now and then Minho would bring one straight to the alien’s lips, who, too immersed in the movie, forgot to take them himself.

Then Minho stopped paying attention to the film and turned to look at Jisung; he watched him for what felt like minutes, lost in his figure: his eyes reflected the light from the screen, wide and deep like galaxies in space, his lips soft and slightly parted, ready to comment on the scenes or make one of his little sounds, his expressions constantly shifting, so fast and expressive they seemed like those of a cartoon, his cheeks soft, his hair soft as silk, the curve of his adorable nose made just right for his lips to press kisses upon.

He looked at him again, but not insistently, nor with intensity, he just looked: gently, softly, lightly, almost imperceptibly, almost as if he were invisible.

He looked at him as if he were a diamond behind a glass case that couldn’t be touched, like a precious painting hanging in a museum, far from any unwanted touch, like something truly valuable. He looked at him as if he were the most important thing in his life.

His gaze was so delicate that Jisung didn’t even notice.

A knot formed in his throat, but it didn’t hurt; it wasn’t anxiety or distress.

Jisung tugged on his sleeve to catch his attention, bringing him back to reality, pointing at the screen with a voice like a sweet vertigo, his touch a fleeting moment that stole Minho’s breath away.

Minho turned toward the screen but stared with his head elsewhere, following the scenes absentmindedly, seeking the alien’s hand under the blanket and wrapping it in his own.

His heart raced every time, it was a feeling he could never get used to, so intense, so warm, so pure.

“Did you see??? In the end, they found each other and he even got to meet the babies!” Jisung jumped on the bed, turning toward Minho, who looked at him affectionately, a smile blooming on his face.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes! I think it’s my absolute favorite of the three!” he said enthusiastically.

“I felt…I…”

“Felt yourself in it?” Minho offered the word again, tilting his head slightly in a tender gesture, his dark eyes never leaving Jisung’s.

“Yes! That’s it! I really felt myself in the white dragon!! At first, he was scared and didn’t trust the other,” he tried to explain, playing with Minho’s fingers under the sheet.

“Well, you’re both cute and wary,” Minho teased, making him pout for a moment, reminding him of the dragon’s expression when it went on the defensive at the slightest offense.

“And you’re like the black one!!” he exclaimed immediately afterward, making Minho’s heart race, his eyes sparkling as he said it.

“Always brave and strong, and sweet to the other one,” he continued, gesturing, letting go and taking Minho’s hand repeatedly while Minho watched silently.

“And I have light hair and you have dark hair, we’re like them, don’t you think??” he said simply, drawing a parallel between themselves and the pair in the movie, finishing off Minho completely, his cheeks burning.

“Do you really think that?” he asked, foolishly not knowing what else to say.

“Of course, I can’t lie,” he said with a funny grimace, before feeling Minho’s hand rest on his cheek, holding his face like it was his anchor.

Jisung calmed immediately at that touch, his expression relaxing, becoming serious.

There was a deafening silence, made of only glances and caresses, and then Minho leaned forward, closing the distance with the alien, drawn to his lips like a bee to nectar on the surface of a flower.

He made sure Jisung was on the same wavelength, and when the alien closed his eyes, Minho leaned in close, so near that he could feel his breath, his hand still resting on his face.

He tilted his neck slightly, aligning perfectly with him, pressing his lips softly against Jisung’s, the tip of his nose brushing against his cheek, their fingers intertwined under the sheets.

Jisung mirrored him, lifting his free hand to the back of Minho’s neck, threading his fingers through the soft strands of his hair, following his slow, gentle rhythm.

Minho pulled away shortly after, letting Jisung catch his breath, and stroked his cheek with the back of his hand, his pupils dilated, his heart racing.

Then Jisung leaned forward again awkwardly, making Minho lose his balance slightly, having to steady himself on the edge of the bed.

“Come here…” Minho whispered, lying back on the mattress and gesturing for Jisung to lie beside him. But at the last moment, Jisung climbed onto his chest instead, pressing down softly, taking Minho’s breath away, leaving him on the edge of panic, unable to control his racing heart.

Jisung looked down at him, his long strands of hair falling over his uncertain eyes, hesitating for a moment, until Minho reached up to guide his face toward his and kissed him again.

This time, their lips met fully, and so did their bodies, chest to chest, legs entwined. The television long forgotten.

Minho stroked Jisung’s back as he savored the kiss delicately, trying to calm him. He could feel Jisung tense above him, cautious, unsure of what to do, but Minho didn’t mind, he didn’t want anything from Jisung that Jisung didn’t want in return.

He could have shifted positions, but the thought of putting Jisung underneath him terrified him; he didn’t want to overwhelm him or make him uncomfortable like during their first kiss. He preferred that Jisung discover things on his own, or ask him willingly.

“Min…” Jisung whispered against his lips, cheeks flushed.

“Is this…love?” he asked, hands resting on Jisung’s chest, feeling his heartbeat against his own.

Minho looked up at him from below, lips parted, eyes lost in the alien’s gaze.

“Love comes in many forms…it’s that feeling when being with someone makes you happy, when time spent together becomes your favorite, when you think of someone even without trying, noticing them in small moments of your day, being kind not out of duty but because your heart wants to…love is free and it makes you happy, and…”

Minho spoke straight from the heart, carried away by the vision in front of him, captivated by Jisung’s presence, sweetness, and beauty, expressing his feelings and thoughts, revealing his soul.

He pulled Jisung into a gentle embrace, wrapping him in his arms, sighing at the thought of his confession.

He didn’t know if Jisung fully understood, he wasn’t stupid and knew about feelings, just hadn’t been able to express or comprehend them until now.

“Can love be a person? Because it seems like you are, from what you just said…” Jisung said, bringing a smile to Minho’s face.

“That’s not entirely wrong…love shows itself in many ways, but it’s usually something abstract, something you feel and share with someone,” Minho replied, tapping Jisung’s nose lightly, making him blink in confusion.

Slowly, Jisung pieced it together, beginning to understand what that powerful emotion really was, something that could overcome any barrier, unite every language, creature, and being in the universe.

He leaned down one last time, kissing Minho again, this time more certain, losing himself in the feeling, trying to understand how such a simple act could connect so deeply with love.

Chapter Text

Their bodies, laid one on top of the other, were wrapped in the dim light of the lamp, and the sheets, soft and slightly rumpled around them, seemed to embrace them, closing them inside their nest of pillows.

They looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments, Minho searching for a sign of discomfort or insecurity in those deep irises, but receiving only a shy smile in return.

Their hands brushed against each other, first over their clothes and then on their faces, exploring that contact without hurry.

Jisung leaned in slowly: his blond strands tickled the older one’s face, and with one hand Minho gently moved them aside, tucking them behind the blond’s ear.

The reflection of the light made the creature’s eyes sparkle as he lowered himself once more, letting their lips barely meet in a brief, light kiss, full of tenderness.

His movements were surer, deeper, less awkward and confused. Little by little it was becoming normal for him to return that gesture, but it was growing harder and harder to endure that tingling sensation along his stomach.

He could make it disappear only when Minho caressed him and pulled him close.

The silence was broken by their now shared breathing and the rustle of the sheets beneath them. Minho closed his eyes and let himself be guided by the alien, bringing his hands into his hair, then along his neck, letting them slide down his arms, holding them without really applying pressure, wrapping his arms around his body to feel him closer.

Then Jisung pulled away to catch his breath and observed the older one’s figure spread across the mattress, his flushed cheeks, his shy smile, his long hair scattered over the pillow.

“I’m so happy I met you,” the words slipped uncontrollably from Minho’s lips as he caressed the creature with care, his gaze full of affection focused solely on him, as if he were the only thing existing on the face of the earth.

Everything seemed suspended when they were together: the world kept turning, but they remained trapped inside that small bubble of sweetness, innocence, and warmth, unconcerned with what surrounded them.

Jisung snuggled against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, trying to count the pulses, so fast he couldn’t keep up.

Minho wrapped him in his arms and held him close before starting to toy with his strands.

“Earlier you asked me if love can be a person…” he continued, feeling the other nod against his chest, not intending to move away.

“And you defined me as that…” he said, curling a lock around his fingers.

“But to me, this is love…” he admitted, stopping his movements, focused on his words.

“Being with you, seeing you, holding you in my arms, showing you the world, watching your reactions, teaching you what you don’t know, sharing experiences, kissing you…” he said all in one breath, feeling his body free itself of a considerable weight.

“Every moment we spend together is magical, and the fact that I always feel so happy and so eager to see you again every day…well, that is love,” he continued, shifting his eyes toward the other, who in the meantime had lifted himself slightly to look at him.

“I had almost forgotten, you know…what it means to love someone,” he confessed, placing a hand on his cheek and caressing it with his thumb.

“Forgotten?” Jisung asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Can you forget?”

“Not love itself, but feeling it, yes…it can happen,” he explained, his expression now sad and almost nostalgic.

Jisung noticed the change in his tone and rested his cheek against his hand, seeking that contact before clinging to him once again and trapping him in his hold.

“You won’t forget me, right?” the alien asked worriedly, holding the other tightly, afraid he might forget him.

“I never could,” Minho shook his head, softened by the thought of the other being so frightened.

“Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to. You’re here with me now,” he reinforced, taking his hand and placing it over his heart.

Jisung felt its beats once more and ended up hiding his face against his neck, and together they fell asleep, forgetting the light left on on the nightstand and the blankets abandoned somewhere, unnecessary given the warmth shared between their bodies.

Jisung didn’t really manage to sleep, but somehow his half-sleep felt deeper, perhaps because he was in Minho’s arms, or perhaps because he wasn’t afraid of having to leave him in the night.

But inevitably the moment to part arrived, and Minho asked Jisung to come back the following morning and to wait a few more hours before seeing each other, out of fear of the consequences.

Jisung accepted reluctantly and returned to space with his new book, borrowed from Minho, to pass the time, but unfortunately that prolonged distance began to make him anxious.

According to the calculations, they would spend an entire day without seeing each other, twice as long as it usually happened.

He managed to endure the first few hours without thinking about it, but when his leg started tapping nervously, he realized he was giving in.

He took the phone in his hands, but because of the cold the battery had drained quickly, and he had no idea what time it was. Minho had forgotten to charge it during the night, and now Jisung found himself at the mercy of something he couldn’t control: time.

He flipped through the pages without even knowing what he was reading, distracted, running a hand over his forehead, casting increasingly frequent glances at the blue planet beneath him.

Usually he relied on the change of light on its surface, but since the dark hours were much longer than the daylight ones, he had no idea what time it was.

He should have waited for the light to settle once again over its contours to be certain it was morning, but he didn’t want to wait that long.

At last he closed the book, not even remembering what it was actually about, and decided to go down, going against the promise he had made.

He catapulted himself to the usual spot, starting to run toward Minho’s house even before getting used to the gravity. He rang the doorbell anxiously, but no one answered, so he tried turning into a cat to nimbly climb up to the upper-floor windows and see if he was home, but there was no sign of him.

So he sat down on the step in front of the door, his head tucked between his knees, waiting for his arrival.

The cold kept him company in his solitude, but Jisung didn’t suffer from it; he was used to far worse, and that vessel didn’t make him a being capable of feeling the same sensations as humans.

As much as he wanted to resemble one of them, he was still an alien on that earth. 

Then a murmur of voices reached his ears, making him immediately lift his head, and he recognized Minho’s figure on his way back, walking alongside someone else.

Chan.

Jisung remembered him; he had seen him twice and hadn’t forgotten his features, even though quite some time had passed.

He wanted to stand up and run toward the older one, but the presence of another human made him rather uncomfortable, so he waited for Minho to approach him first.

“Jisung?? What are you doing here..?” Surprise was painted on his face, mixed with concern, as he turned toward Chan and then hurried over to the other.

“Didn’t we say we’d see each other tomorrow morning?” Minho scolded him, a little cloud of condensation leaving his lips, frozen on contact with the air.

Jisung lowered his gaze, then shifted it toward Chan behind him, gathering the courage to speak in front of both of them.

“I know, but…I couldn’t stand waiting anymore,” he confessed, rocking slightly in place before pulling out the phone.

“It turned off and I didn’t know what time it was…” he continued, drawing the attention of the human, who waited at a certain distance, not wanting to scare the creature.

“I’m sorry…I forgot to charge it,” Minho apologized, holding out his hand.

“How long have you been waiting here…you’re freezing,” he added, squeezing his palm and helping him to his feet.

Jisung clung to him and then shifted his weight against the other, hugging him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked worriedly, threatening tears pooling in his glossy eyes.

“Of course not, Jisung,” the other reassured him. “But please, try not to do such risky things…” he finally pleaded, hugging him in return.

Jisung nodded against his shoulder, then shifted his gaze toward Chan, who, as soon as he made eye contact with the alien, raised a hand as if to greet him and establish contact.

“Do you remember me?” Chan asked, approaching slowly.

Jisung didn’t move an inch; he stayed clinging to the other, nodding his head in response while Minho stepped slightly aside.

“Come on, let’s go in,” the boy invited them, opening the front door and offering them the comforting warmth inside.

Soonie, as usual, padded over to the doorway to greet the guests and stopped by Chan’s legs, rubbing against them as if to let him know he had been missed.

Jisung watched him suspiciously, offended that he hadn’t been greeted first, and pouted as he sat down on the living room couch, arms crossed over his chest, lower lip jutting out.

“Sit wherever you like,” Minho said, disappearing into the kitchen and putting a small pot of water on the stove to make some hot tea.

“So, Jisung, right?” Chan called to get his attention, making the alien turn toward him.

“It’s been a long time since we last saw each other. How are you?” he asked, not really knowing how else to approach him, rubbing his icy hands together before blowing warm air onto them.

Jisung nodded, at first intimidated by the idea of speaking. He didn’t even know why, but something stopped him from talking to a human who wasn’t Minho.

He parted his lips several times, trying, but failing miserably. He kept turning toward the kitchen, searching for help in Minho’s figure, but finding none, he ended up anxiously tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie.

Soonie jumped onto his legs, making him flinch on the couch, so tense he was. A smile bloomed on his face, melting his serious expression, finally reunited with his four-legged companion.

He gently stroked him, focusing on the movement of his orange fur and how his fingers sank into it.

“Minho has told me a lot about you,” Chan spoke up, drawing his attention.

Jisung lifted his eyes from Soonie and turned them toward the human, swallowing loudly, searching for his inner voice once again before answering.

“Really?” he asked shyly, immediately averting his gaze.

“Oh, I finally hear your voice. Among the many things Minho told me, he said you’d learned to speak like a real human, so I was curious…we met when you still couldn’t, and I couldn’t wait to see you again so I could talk to you,” the older one smiled, leaning forward.

“I’m sorry…it’s easier with Min..” he admitted, gently scratching the cat behind the ear, trying not to meet the other’s gaze.

“Don’t apologize, I get it. We barely know each other,” Chan tried to reassure him.

“But I was really curious to meet you, so I hope we can get along,” he said, watching the other’s figure curl in on itself on the couch, visibly nervous, searching for Minho’s help.

“You know,” he spoke again, leaning slightly toward the kitchen to make sure Minho wasn’t there. His cautious, furtive attitude only sparked the alien’s curiosity.

“I’m glad Minho met you…you probably don’t know this, but he really needed someone like you by his side. You’re like his life force now,” he confessed with a gentle smile.

Jisung stopped his hand on Soonie’s back, and the cat meowed in protest at the sudden interruption.

“Life…force?” he asked, tilting his head, not sure he understood the meaning of that word.

“Yes, life force…how can I explain it…hmm. It’s the energy, the essence that allows a living being to exist, that gives them strength,” he said, using simple words, hoping the other would understand.

“And I’m that for Min? Isn’t that something humans already have inside them?” he asked, confused, hugging Soonie as if he were a plush toy.

“No, Jisung, not always. Life force exists in all of us, that’s true, but it’s not always, how can I put it, active and willing to work…sometimes it malfunctions and doesn’t work as it should. Sometimes it loses strength, other times it shuts down,” he tried to explain, gesturing slowly so as not to cause anxiety.

“Well, Minho had run out over the past year, almost completely shut down…he wasn’t the same anymore. But since you arrived, he’s started working again, shining again...actually, more than before. So yes, it’s as if you’re fueling his life force.”

“And why?” Jisung asked, feeling a tightness in his chest, a sensation mixed between sorrow at that discovery and joy at being something so important to Minho.

“Why did he shut down…?” he asked, imagining a sad, lonely Minho, just as he himself had felt, surrounded by creatures who ignored him and didn’t even acknowledge his existence.

“Well, because—”

“And here we go, the tea is ready,” Minho interrupted them, finally coming out of the kitchen with a tray in his hands and several cups balanced on top.

Jisung let go of Soonie and turned toward him, nervously biting his lip.

He didn’t know whether Minho had been hiding those things from him, just as he had hidden his own life, but knowing that he had come so close to shutting down deeply unsettled him, and he wanted to understand the reasons behind that darkness.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Minho warned him as he set the cup down on the table in front of the blond, who stared at him intensely.

“What is it?” he asked, confused, turning toward Chan.

“Do I have something on my face or something?”

Chan shrugged and shook his head while Minho sat down on the couch beside the alien, who kept staring at him insistently.

“Min…” the latter called softly, clutching the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Why were you about to shut down?” he asked innocently, almost making Chan choke, who had just taken a sip of his tea.

Minho turned toward him, understanding Chan’s involvement, then looked back at the other.

“Chan says your life force had shut down before I arrived. What does that mean?”

That question made the boy’s heart leap into his throat as he once again sought the older one’s gaze, this time pleading.

“Chan, what did you tell him…?”

“I thought he already knew…” the older one admitted, feeling terribly guilty.

Jisung shifted his gaze from one to the other, stopping on Minho, and for the first time he got lost in the silent abyss of his eyes, a void that seemed to draw him in, dark and irresistible like a black hole.

“It doesn’t matter…it would’ve come out sooner or later anyway,” Minho sighed, a bitter laugh accompanying his words.

Jisung sensed the discomfort and gloom in his tone and tightened the fabric of his clothes, tugging him slightly closer.

“There was someone, once, in my life, with whom I shared everything, just like I do now with you. But that magic broke, and our paths split, leaving me alone, lost in oblivion,” he said all in one breath, lowering his gaze to the tea as the dark infusion sank to the bottom, staining the cup black, like his own soul.

Jisung felt the tightness in his chest grow stronger, but he didn’t know whether it was because of the pain Minho had endured or because there had been someone else before him.

“It’s not something pleasant to remember or talk about, that’s why it took me so long to even hint at it. I’m sorry…” Minho apologized, turning toward the alien, regret filling his eyes.

Jisung stared at him in silence for a few moments, then threw himself against him, hugging him tightly.

“I won’t do that! I’ll never leave you alone, Min,” he said, clinging to him, tears welling in his eyes.

“Never, never, never,” he kept repeating, pulling Minho’s arm against his own chest, shaking his head against his shoulder.

Minho turned toward Chan, who watched them tenderly, trying to hold back his tears, biting the inside of his cheek.

He no longer believed in promises, but deep down he knew Jisung was sincere. He trusted him and his innocence, his purity. He was sure he would never abandon him, that he would never leave him for reasons so trivial and selfish, so disrespectful to his person, so degrading.

He was sure Jisung was what he needed, everything he had always dreamed of, the miracle he had been hoping for had truly fallen from the sky like a comet and completely turned his life upside down.

“Thank you, Jisung…” he whispered shakily, hugging the alien, letting tears streak down his cheeks, while Chan gave him a knowing wink.

“Min is my life force too. I can’t leave him,” the alien finally said, once again making the older one’s heart race the way only he could.

Chapter Text

Jisung stayed clinging to Minho the whole time, wrapped around him, gripping his arm as if someone might take him away.

Even if he didn’t know exactly what Minho had been through, he understood perfectly what it meant to be left alone, he had felt it on his own skin. Knowing that someone had done the same to him filled him with anger and sorrow, and he poured those feelings into clutching the other’s hoodie, staying close, with no intention of letting go.

They talked with Chan for the rest of the afternoon, but Jisung couldn’t quite bring himself to feel comfortable enough to speak freely. Instead, he lost himself in playing with the drawstrings of the older boy’s hoodie or in petting Soonie, who every now and then passed by, rubbing against his legs.

Then something strange began to move through his body.

At first it was just a discomfort, a vague sensation, almost negligible. Then he felt a faint stab in his side, like a needle pricking just beneath the skin. It lasted an instant, then vanished, and for the next few minutes he felt nothing at all, so much so that he thought he’d imagined it, that he’d moved the wrong way. He went back to breathing, ignoring what had just happened.

Then the sensation returned, this time stronger, sharper. The pain spread beneath the skin, slipping between his muscles, reaching up to his chest. His breathing grew a little shorter and his shoulders stiffened. Unease seized him with the awareness that something was wrong.

It almost felt as if his time on Earth were about to run out, and yet only a few hours had passed since he’d come down.

The pain grew, cruel, forcing him to clutch Minho’s hoodie with every new stab. Now it was impossible to ignore: it radiated through his entire body and spread to his chest, making him curl in on himself, his body tensed in search of relief.

Every second became heavy, every breath hurt, but holding the air in was far worse. The pain pulsed, and with every beat it grew more intense, sharper, so much so that it became difficult to focus on anything other than that internal grip.

He tightened his fingers in the fabric of Minho’s hoodie, seeking shelter in that hold, but he couldn’t say a word. He didn’t want to let him go.

The minutes crawled by, until the pain became unbearable, his container saturated with searing stabs that shot through him like shocks. His hands began to tremble against the other’s body, and sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Jisung?” Minho turned, immediately placing a hand on the other’s shoulder as he felt him shaking, his face paler than ever.

The alien flinched, perceiving that touch as yet another stab through his body.

“Does it hurt?” Minho asked worriedly, but Jisung shook his head, lowering his gaze to the carpet to hide his tears.

“Please…I told you to tell me when you weren’t feeling well,” he scolded him anxiously, getting up from the couch to kneel on the floor in front of him and try to meet his gaze.

“What’s going on?” Chan asked, confused, alarmed by the sight of the other clearly in pain.

“Jisung can’t stay on Earth for more than half a day…it’s like his body starts rejecting this environment after a certain amount of time, but it’s never happened this early…” Minho said, agitated, completely caught off guard. 

“Min…” the blond whispered, avoiding his gaze as he hugged his aching body.

“I don’t understand…” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut, a tear falling onto the other’s face.

“Didn’t you say earlier that Jisung was supposed to wait? Maybe it’s because he came down too early that this is happening?” Chan asked, staying clear-headed in that moment of agony and panic.

Minho seemed to process the information, but he didn’t reply, focused on the other who was struggling to breathe.

“Hey, look at me,” Minho said, taking his face, barely brushing it, terrified of hurting him.

“I don’t want to see you like this, I don’t want you to be in pain, please…” he begged, feeling him tremble under his touch.

“I don’t…want to leave you alone…” the blond whimpered. “I don’t want you to be alone,” he continued, finally meeting the other’s eyes, sadness filling his own, brimming with tears.

“Oh, Jisung…” Minho’s voice broke as he stood up and wrapped the other in a gentle embrace, afraid of breaking him, so fragile he seemed.

“I’m not alone anymore…you don’t have to be physically here for me to know you’re there…I told you, you’re in my heart. Nothing will change that, not even the distance between us,” he tried to reassure him, softly stroking his blond locks and pulling his head against his chest.

“Please go back to space…and rest. I know you feel lonely up there too, but I can’t watch you suffer like this…” he pleaded once more, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“I promise that when you come back down, I’ll tell you everything,” he said, running a thumb over his cheek, caressing him, brushing away his tears.

“Everything, everything?” Jisung asked through sobs.

“Yes, everything, everything…now go,” Minho urged again, loosening his hold, but Jisung didn’t seem to move, as if he were waiting for something.

He looked at him with his big, dark eyes, still glossy, tears clinging to their edges.

“Can I…have a kiss..? Before I go…” he whispered, feeling his throat tighten with pain, yet willing to endure a little longer just to feel Minho close.

Minho smiled softly and, without needing to be asked again, leaned forward and pressed his lips to his, a salty tear joining their kiss.

Jisung felt his body melt, the tension sliding from his shoulders, and even though the contact burned against his aching skin, it still felt like a sweet remedy to his suffering.

They parted shortly after, one last caress to the alien’s face before saying goodbye.

“Wait until the next night falls,” Minho whispered, sending that prayer after him before letting him go.

Jisung moved toward the door and, the next second, vanished, flooding the room with an intense light.

Chan let his phone slip from his hands, shocked by the sight, and turned to Minho, who hadn’t even blinked, by now used to watching him disappear into space.

“I can’t believe it’s all real…” he said simply, getting up and pacing nervously around the room.

Minho would have liked nothing more than to help him through his existential crisis, he himself had gone through it the first time, but his thoughts were entirely focused on Jisung and what had just happened.

He sat down in the armchair, his gaze fixed on nothing.

“So you think it’s because of his ambiguous presence here?” he asked out of the blue, making Chan stop in his tracks.

“I mean…if he has these episodes after a certain amount of time and ends up having them outside the usual schedule, it’s probably because it wasn’t the right moment for him to stay, right? I don’t know if that makes sense…” Chan tried to reason, pushing past the shock by clinging to logic.

“You’re probably right…I told him to wait,” Minho sighed, rubbing a hand over his exhausted face.

“So it really is serious…” Chan moved closer and sat down beside him.

“Of course it is. Did you think I was messing with you?”

“Not at all, I just didn’t think it was serious on his side too…” the older one admitted, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“What you’ve created is incredible, Minho, do you realize that? You managed to transcend every rule, every bit of rationality, you managed to unite two completely different species…until a few months ago I didn’t even believe aliens existed, damn it,” the Australian cursed, then burst out laughing.

“You’re crazy,” he said playfully, shaking him.

“How much does Jisung know about humans and relationships with them?” Chan asked, giving a few light pats to his shoulders.

“Not much, actually…he’s learning what kisses are, but he has no idea how the rest works…and I don’t even think anything more than this could ever happen between us,” Minho admitted, staring at the carpet beneath his feet, remembering himself kneeling there just minutes earlier.

“Then it’s perfect, isn’t it?” Chan said simply, making Minho turn toward him.

“I mean…it’s what you’ve always dreamed of,” he continued, alluding to his complicated relationship with sex.

Minho felt a knot tighten in his throat and swallowed, trying to push it away, but his eyes betrayed him. A glossy sheen veiled his amber irises, his gaze now distant, fragile.

He blinked once, then again, in silence, until the first tear fell.

His eyes trembled, bright with long-suppressed emotions, now struck at the most sensitive point, where no one should have reached, and that was when Chan pulled him into a hug.

Minho rarely allowed himself to appear so weak, to be cared for like that by others, or to let someone approach him that way, especially Chan. Their friends always teased him, saying Minho didn’t like hugs, especially his, but in that fragile moment he couldn’t do without it.

He didn’t pull away, on the contrary, he clung to him like he hadn’t in a long time and cried in silence. The last time it had happened was when he’d broken up with his ex, and maybe that was why he never let Chan comfort him. He hated not being strong enough to get through things on his own, having to depend on someone. He wanted to be the one people leaned on, not the other way around.

They stayed like that until Minho calmed down, overwhelmed by his emotions. Deep down he regretted that moment of weakness, but Chan had completely caught him off guard with that sentence, bringing to the surface many of the thoughts that had haunted him over the past year.

“Feeling better?” Chan asked, pulling back, and Minho nodded without saying a word.

“Good. You’d better not let Jisung find that pout when he comes back,” he one teased, checking the time.

“It’s time to go home,” he announced, getting to his feet and stretching, heading for the door.

“Whatever you need, you know where to find me,” he added, putting on his jacket before opening the door.

“Chan,” Minho finally stopped him, standing up and taking a step forward, though he remained rooted to the floor.

“Thank you…” he said at last, parting his lips, his voice weak but full of gratitude.

Chan gave him a warm smile, and after saying goodbye, closed the door behind him.

Minho kept his mind busy for the rest of the day, studying intensely until the following afternoon. He checked the time constantly, hoping Jisung would keep his word and not show up before it was time, and he prepared to welcome him in the best possible way.

He arranged the pillows the way Jisung always did and set out his favorite blanket along with his plushie. Then, at last, the long-awaited moment arrived. Minho opened the door, his heart pounding.

“Min!!” Jisung exclaimed, holding out a bouquet of cosmos flowers, hiding behind it.

“I brought these for you,” he said, peeking shyly out from behind it, his big eyes searching Minho’s face for a reaction.

“Jisung…” Minho took them in his hands, the sound of crinkling paper beneath his fingers as he did.

He leaned his nose over the flowers and breathed in their delicate scent, feeling his cheeks flush at the tender thought.

“How did you manage to—”

“The lady gave them to me! I told her I didn’t have any money and that it was important, because I absolutely had to bring them to someone so they wouldn’t feel alone,” the alien explained, rubbing his foot shyly against the floor before being pulled into a hug.

“Thank you, Jisung…” Minho said, holding him tight, so tight it almost took his breath away.

“They’re beautiful…thank you,” he repeated, taking his hand and leading him inside, lovingly placing the new bouquet in the vase in place of the old one.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened the day before, but in Minho’s mind he was still preparing the speech he had promised Jisung, anxious about having to lay bare his reality, his nature.

“It’s a beautiful nest, Min,” Jisung exclaimed in surprise, looking toward the bed and pulling Minho out of his thoughts.

“You like it? I tried to recreate it the way you do,” he said, scratching his head, embarrassed.

“It’s almost perfect…there’s just one thing missing,” the blond replied thoughtfully, turning toward Minho.

“You,” he said, pointing at him, then moving his finger toward the bed, gesturing for him to go sit among the pillows.

Minho blushed again but didn’t need to be told twice. He settled onto the mattress, surrounded by the sheets, pulling the alien-shaped plushie into his lap to fight the embarrassment. Then Jisung, after flashing a satisfied smile, moved closer to him.

For a moment he stood still in front of Minho, his dark eyes silently asking for permission, but they didn’t wait for an answer before he sat down on his lap. The contact was light at first, cautious, waiting for a signal from the other to know if it was truly okay.

Minho held his breath at first, then relaxed, letting Jisung’s weight settle more comfortably against him. He shifted back a few centimeters until his back touched the wall behind him.

One hand rested on Jisung’s hips, while the other slowly slid around his torso, wrapping the blond from behind, closing his arms around him in a soft, warm embrace.

Jisung melted against his chest, resting his back against him, feeling his warmth seep through their clothes and surround him completely.

They fit together perfectly, almost as if Jisung belonged in his arms.

“Does anything hurt?” Minho asked, stroking his stomach and placing a kiss on the nape of his neck.

The alien shook his head and took Minho’s hands in his own.

“No, actually. I was good, see? I held out for so long without breaking the promise,” Jisung bragged, comparing the size difference between their palms.

“You were very good…” Minho said, tightening his hold around his abdomen, hiding his face against the alien’s shoulder as he began to tremble.

A wave of emotions started to overwhelm him, but having Jisung in his arms helped soothe the storm inside him.

“Min…?” the alien asked worriedly, trying to turn around to look at him, but Minho held him even tighter, as if begging him not to turn.

Without realizing it, he had started crying again, but he didn’t want Jisung to see.

“It’s all okay,” Minho said, sniffing, seeking comfort in that embrace and courage too, to speak.

“It’s just hard to talk about,” he admitted, finding shelter in the hollow of the alien’s neck.

Jisung didn’t say a word, but he spoke through his actions, squeezing Minho’s hand to let him know he was there.

“I had this person in my life,” Minho began, whispering the words against him, almost afraid to say them out loud.

“He was like Chan, like you, an important presence, someone to rely on, to count on, to go to when I needed it. Someone I loved,” he explained, feeling the other’s hold tighten at the word “loved.”

“I felt like the happiest person in the world by his side. He was all I needed to keep going,” he continued, thinking back to how those early days with him had been a beautiful memory of his life.

“Then why did he leave?” Jisung interrupted, frustration rising as the story went on.

“Because I wasn’t what he wanted,” Minho said simply, his tone changing.

“Love between humans isn’t just something abstract that you can’t touch and only feel. Love is also touching, kissing, and having…how do I explain it…humans are often attracted to each other on a physical level, not just an emotional one, and often they come together in a ritual that merges their bodies into one thing. It’s a very intimate way some people choose to grow close,” Minho tried to explain, without going into details Jisung wouldn’t understand.

“But it’s not something that has to happen, nor something everyone wants. It’s a possibility, one of many languages of love, but not the only one,” he continued, before taking a long breath.

“At least not for me…I don’t feel attraction in that sense. I don’t need that act to prove that I love someone, that I feel love” he confessed, letting the weight fall from his shoulders.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Jisung asked innocently, playing with Minho’s rings between his fingers.

Minho felt a stab in his chest and held Jisung even closer, as much as it was possible.

“Nothing…but not everyone thinks that way, and he was one of them. At first he told me it wasn’t a problem, and I was the happiest person in the world. But then he started insisting, wanting things from me that I couldn’t and didn’t want to give,” Minho confessed, feeling his chest tighten in a vice.

“He made me feel wrong, a mistake…he betrayed my trust, humiliated me completely, and left me.” Each word echoed in his heart like a knife, bringing back those painful feelings.

“I felt so wrong that I stopped believing in love and that someone could love me for who I really am.”

“What an asshole,” Jisung suddenly commented, making Minho’s eyes fly open as he stared at him in shock.

“Jisung?? When did you learn to say things like that?” he asked, blinking repeatedly.

“I read it in the book you lent me. The main character said it after hearing a similar story. I don’t know what it means, but it seemed like the right moment to say it,” he confessed, pouting, then placing Minho’s hands on his lap.

Minho suddenly burst out laughing, his heart feeling lighter all at once. He wiped his tears, this time not from sadness.

“I really need to check what I give you to read,” he said amused, rubbing his face against the other’s head, relieved now that he’d freed himself of that burden.

“I understand you,” the alien spoke again.

“I already told you, but I’ve always felt alone, marginalized, and wrong among my own species...it was hard, so hard that I chose to take a one-way journey to who-knows where in space and yet now I’ve found my place. I’ve found someone who doesn’t make me feel wrong, because I’m not! We’re not wrong, and you’re not wrong, Min,” he exclaimed, letting go of his hands and finally turning toward him to meet his eyes and show him his feelings through them.

“If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that you’re not a mistake. I like you just the way you are. I have no intention of abandoning you, actually, I’m very angry,” he admitted, giving Minho’s chest a light punch.

“I’m angry because I arrived late and you hugged someone like that before me, someone who didn’t even deserve it,” the alien pouted, easing the worry that had grown in Minho when he’d revealed that anger.

His adorable expression, puffed cheeks, protruding lip as he leaned toward him, furrowed brows, long blond hair messy around his face. Minho loved every part of him.

“No one is like you, Jisung,” he said simply, the words slipping from his lips and silencing the other.

“You’re the most precious thing that could have happened to me on this Earth,” he added, reaching for his face and pulling him closer to kiss him.

“Thank you for bringing light into my life,” he continued, kissing him again, this time overwhelmed with emotion.

“Thank you, Min, for giving me a home and a place to return to…” Jisung replied, cupping Minho’s face with both hands and kissing him back.

Chapter Text

“Look what I got,” Minho said excitedly as he sat down on the floor, pulling a calendar out of the bag.

Jisung looked at him in confusion, tilting his head as he fiddled with the plushie.

“What is it?” he asked curiously, trying to understand what the numbers written on each page were for and why they almost always stopped at thirty.

“A calendar,” Minho explained, showing him the object.

“It’s used to keep track of the days,” he added, flipping through the pages. Pictures of kittens decorated each one, immediately catching Jisung’s attention.

“This way we can organize things week by week and alternate between seeing each other in the morning and in the evening, without risking you getting hurt,” Minho confessed, lifting his eyes toward the alien.

Jisung turned to look at him, his lower lip forming a slightly unhappy pout.

“Since you’ve been pretty careless lately, I’d like to decide together what to do week by week…what do you think?” Minho asked, still seeking his approval.

As worried as Minho was about the consequences, he couldn’t force Jisung to do something he didn’t want to do. Still, the alien seemed to approve of the idea, since it meant yet another activity they could do together.

“I like it,” he said, crawling across the rug until he stopped beneath the other’s face, looking up at him intently, his eyes big and bright as always.

Minho caressed his cheek and gave him a smile, his heart feeling lighter at the thought that Jisung agreed with his idea.

Jisung settled himself between Minho’s legs, his back resting against the other’s chest, while Minho’s arms wrapped around him like a shield as he started writing on the calendar.

“So what do you think about starting together on Monday morning?” Minho suggested, idly playing with the pen over the page.

Jisung nodded silently, watching the ink stain the pages in a light handwriting.

The notebook rested on his knees, and he could feel the pressure of Minho’s hand on them every time he wrote something down.

“Would you like to go running with me?” Minho asked next, thinking about how he had stopped doing that activity a long time ago, and how perfect it would be to start again in the company of his favorite person.

“Running??” Jisung asked, turning slightly, unable to fully see Minho’s face.

“Yes. It’s not just for running away, it’s also a sport that helps keep the body healthy,” Minho explained with a laugh, amused by the thought that Jisung knew the word but had only ever put it into practice to escape.

“Oh…” he said, letting out an adorable little sound, hiding his embarrassed expression as he went back to looking at the kitten pictures beneath him.

“I’m in!” he nodded afterward, following the movement of the pen.

“If you want to suggest something, go ahead,” Minho encouraged him, writing cat café as the destination for Tuesday. Jisung hadn’t stopped staring at the drawings on the calendar, and Minho thought it would be a good idea to take him among his 'own kind'

“Flowers!!” he exclaimed. “Let’s go get more flowers!”

“Then flowers it is,” Minho agreed, filling in Wednesday as well.

Every now and then their fingers brushed against each other, and their bodies shifted involuntarily, fitting together until they were so close there was no room left for air. Jisung’s head brushed Minho’s shoulder and sometimes tilted, finding a comfortable spot beneath the other’s chin. Minho, in turn, rested lightly against the top of his head or leaned forward to see better, brushing against the blond’s hair.

“On Thursday we could watch a movie together in the evening.”

“Can we watch How to Train Your Dragon again?” Jisung almost begged, turning suddenly and nearly headbutting Minho in the chin. Minho burst out laughing.

“You really like that movie, don’t you?” he said, stroking his head.

“For the other days, I’d say we spend them together in the evening, and on Sunday you’ll take a little break, okay? I want to make sure everything’s fine...that way you’ll have a whole day to rest and come back on Monday morning.”

Jisung sighed, but didn’t object. By now he understood that Minho only wanted what was best for him, and that he, too, suffered from loneliness just like him.

He could do it. Minho wasn’t abandoning him for a single day, he would wait for him, and Jisung would come back.

The alien stretched, throwing himself backward and making Minho lose his balance. He fell to the floor, and they both burst out laughing. Jisung ended up sprawled on top of him while Minho jokingly complained about his weight. Then the blond rolled onto his side, and the two of them looked at each other for a few seconds before laughing again.

Minho reached out toward the alien’s face and caressed it with the back of his hand, brushing against his dimpled cheek. Under his touch, Jisung’s smile softened and turned into a thin line.

Jisung brought both hands to Minho’s wrist and pulled it closer, rubbing against it as he drew Minho toward him.

Their eyes met, their faces slowly drawing nearer, until their noses brushed and their lips collided.

Alone, in that room, lying on the rug, they kissed in complete silence. They didn’t care that it was uncomfortable or cold, being together was all they needed.

Monday ⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃🎐 ⋆

The following morning they went out for a run, but Jisung stopped after a few hundred meters to catch his breath.

“Tired?” Minho asked, placing a hand on his back.

“Gravity on Earth isn’t the same as where I used to live…we didn’t even need to walk on my planet, let alone run,” the alien complained, leaning against a wall.

“Really?” Minho blinked, surprised by that piece of information. Every time, he learned something new about Jisung’s world.

“Yes…we float,” he admitted, making the human’s mouth fall open.

“You can fly??”

“It’s not really flying…isn’t that what birds do?” the alien asked, confused.

“Floating…did I use the wrong word..? Levitate..?” He started listing every similar word that came to mind, making Minho burst out laughing.

“No, no, I get it, don’t worry,” the older one stopped him, amused by his adorable expression.

Tuesday ⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃🎐 ⋆

“Come on, go ahead, I bet everyone will love you,” Minho encouraged him, letting him go in first.

They pushed open the glass door, and a little bell chimed, announcing their arrival. The air was warm and smelled like buttery cookies. For a moment there was silence, but then they were greeted by a chorus of soft meows.

The cats emerged from couches, shelves, and their little beds, spreading out curiously around the visitors. A tabby cat approached with its tail held high and rubbed against Minho’s legs, leaving behind a trail of purring before stopping between the alien’s ankles.

Minho bent down and stroked a black cat that had approached him like a shadow, elegant and graceful. Jisung did the same, kneeling down and burying his hands in their warm fur, a tender smile on his face.

“Can I help you?” the owner interrupted, approaching them.

“I can see they already like you,” she commented with a smile. “Please, sit wherever you like, the menu’s on the table,” she instructed before moving behind the counter.

The two boys exchanged shy looks and, after standing up, took a seat at a table.

Minho barely had time to sit before a cat jumped onto his lap, immediately starting to rub against him.

“They’re really drawn to you,” Jisung commented, distractedly opening the menu, waiting for a kitten to come over and do the same with him.

“Not just them,” Minho replied, staring intently at Jisung, who, embarrassed, hid behind the menu.

They ordered hot chocolate with whipped cream and, while waiting, chatted between one pet and another. A small orange cat had curled up on the alien’s lap, while Minho had one on him and two more on the table asking for attention, which he gladly gave without making them wait.

Jisung puffed out his cheeks in a pout, and when the hot chocolate arrived, he drank it in silence, focused and without saying a word. Minho noticed the strange quiet and reached out toward Jisung to get his attention, but Jisung instead grabbed his hand and pulled him closer, startling the cats. He rubbed against it, meowing softly, making Minho blush as he looked around in embarrassment.

“You said you couldn’t wait to come here,” Minho scolded him, confused by his reaction.

“I changed my mind,” the blond sulked, turning his head to the side.

“I don’t like sharing Min with others…” he muttered under his breath, just barely audible.

Minho raised an eyebrow, thinking he might have misunderstood, his hand still trapped between the alien’s.

“I’m sorry, what?” he teased, amused, tapping a finger against his cheek, sinking into its softness like it was a block of dough.

“Nothing!!!” the blond snapped, clamping his mouth shut.

“No, now you say it again,” Minho insisted, standing up to tickle him and force that sentence out of him.

Wednesday ⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃🎐 ⋆

Hand in hand, they went to their trusted florist and bought a new bouquet of cosmos flowers. On the way back, they stopped by the meadow where they had picked daisies together for the first time and made a small bouquet to accompany the floral arrangement.

Thursday ⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃🎐 ⋆

Jisung waited until evening before coming down, anxious and excited to finally watch again the movie he loved so much. Yet it seemed to matter very little once he found himself curled up against the other’s chest, caught in a long awaited session of kisses and finally granted cuddles.

Their lips smacked softly in the room, filling the silences of the movie, while the gentle glow of the screen illuminated them in turns, casting shadows over their faces and making the moment even more intimate.

Minho held him tightly in an embrace, his warm hands stroking Jisung’s back as he let himself be carried away by his emotions. He tilted his face, shifted slightly on the mattress, and at slow intervals took the other’s chin to guide him back toward himself.

Jisung followed him without any difficulty, even ending up above him, placing both hands on Minho’s shoulders to support himself before pulling away, exhausted, to catch his breath.

By now, he had understood how it worked, and every time he became better at either taking the lead or following the other’s movements.

Still not satisfied, he started a second round, lowering himself toward Minho once more, this time placing a hand on his chest and listening to the rhythm of his heart increase noticeably. He kissed him again and again, letting the movie play on, until his lips began to redden.

Minho looked at him from below, immersed in the dim light, his lips parted, his hair messy across his face, his breath uneven. His pupils were dilated despite the screen’s light hitting his face intermittently.

He reached up to the alien’s face and gently caressed it, letting a sentence slip from his lips, one he had once spoken in his life and never thought he would say again.

“I love you, Jisung…” he said, no longer able to keep those words inside.

Friday ⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃🎐 ⋆

Minho surprised Jisung with a new gift. He had bought matching How to Train Your Dragon pajamas: the Light Fury for Jisung and the Night Fury for himself.

Jisung put it on immediately, twirling in place to watch the dragon tail move behind him. He ran all over the house before throwing himself at Minho and knocking him to the ground. The hood fell over his face, giving him the appearance of the Light Fury, and he started making little sounds to imitate it.

Minho burst out laughing, his own black hood spread out behind his head on the floor, forming adorable little ears against his silhouette.

They rolled around on the floor, pretending to fight, until Minho pinned the other beneath him with his weight, trapping him there.

“What if I turned into a dragon?” Jisung suddenly asked, and the other’s eyes flew wide open; he had never even remotely considered something like that.

“I don’t think you can. Dragons don’t exist in our world..if someone found out, we’d be in serious trouble,” Minho said, shaking his head and brushing the thought away.

“How boring!” Jisung complained, wriggling on the rug before falling victim to Minho’s hands and being tortured once again by tickles.

Later, they lay down together on the bed and fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, still wearing their new pajamas.

Saturday ⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃🎐 ⋆

“Would you like to go out with Chan tonight? So you can get to know each other a bit,” Minho suggested, trying to convince Jisung.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there with you all evening,” he reassured him, hoping he would accept the invitation and, surprisingly, Jisung didn’t make a fuss about it.

He wasn’t very sure he’d be able to talk in Chan’s presence, but there were a few things he wanted to ask him, and this felt like the right opportunity.

They went out to dinner together and sat at the table of the sushi restaurant where Minho had taken him for the first time. The alien listened to their conversation and ate in silence, until he was finally addressed.

“But how do you even eat? I mean…do you have a digestive system or…?”

“Chan!” Minho hushed him, kicking him under the table and making him drop his chopsticks onto the floor.

“Oh, hyung…I’m sorry,” Minho apologized, standing up. “I’ll go ask for another pair right away.”

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” Chan tried to stop him, but Minho insisted, leaving the two of them alone.

“I was joking earlier, well, mostly. I really was curious,” Chan laughed, looking at Jisung and waiting for some kind of reaction.

“What does hyung mean?” Jisung asked, finding the courage now that Minho wasn’t there.

“Oh…well, it’s an honorific. You use it with someone who’s older than you,” Chan replied, glancing toward Minho, who was still waiting at the counter.

“And I love you?” Jisung continued.

Chan nearly choked on his own saliva at that question, suddenly feeling under pressure in front of those big eyes, eager for answers.

“Well…it’s something you say only to the most important person in your life. It means you love them, basically…” Chan tried to explain, running a nervous hand over his face.

“Mhm, I see. And what can I do for Minho…? He gives me so many gifts, but I’m not sure what he likes. I always bring him flowers…” the alien said softly, lowering his gaze and fiddling with a piece of fish between his chopsticks.

“Oh, Jisung…god, you’re so cute,” Chan muttered, resisting the urge to squeeze him to death while checking where Minho was, taking advantage of the moment to keep talking.

“Honestly, Minho’s a very simple person. He likes cats, comics…oh, and pudding!”

“Pudding…” Jisung repeated, remembering it as the first food Minho had ever let him try. But before he could ask anything else, Minho returned to the table.

“I’m back!” he said, cutting into their conversation as he sat down beside the blond.

Dinner went on without any issues, and after a while Jisung grew quiet again, content to listen and eat at his own pace. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, just lost in thought.

When it was time to leave, they said goodbye in front of the restaurant and each returned to their own home. Once back, Minho put on a movie to keep them company as they drifted off to sleep.

It didn’t take long for exhaustion to take over, and they fell asleep soon after, the screen still glowing.

The next morning, Jisung woke up early and, at the first twinge of pain, woke Minho to say goodbye. Minho opened his eyes and pulled the blond into an embrace, gently stroking his back.

“I’ll see you on Monday, Jisungie,” Minho murmured, his voice thick with sleep, resting his chin on Jisung’s shoulder, still half-asleep.

Jisung nodded silently and, after pulling away from the hug, got ready to leave.

“Min…” he said, drawing his attention as he stood by the window.

“I love you too,” he said, before disappearing into thin air, leaving Minho on the bed, staring into the empty space, his chest still warm with emotion.

Chapter Text

The days grew shorter, colder, and darker, carrying with them the magic of Christmas. Colorful lights decorated the city at every corner, intermittently illuminating houses and streets, like stars in the sky.

“Careful,” Minho warned with a faint smile, watching him as he got caught in the strings of lights in a clumsy attempt to free them while circling the tree.

He tripped over the cord, losing his balance more than once, and ended up grabbing onto Minho, who, fortunately, was right by his side, ready to support him.

“Hyung, I’m stuck…” Jisung complained, pouting. Minho couldn’t help but smile, and, softened by the sight, helped him get free.

“I’ve already told you, you can call me by my name. No need for formalities between us,” he shook his head with a sigh, cursing Chan for teaching him that word.

“You don’t like it?” the blonde asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“It’s not that…everyone calls me Minho or hyung and…” he trailed off, hands hovering in midair, holding the lights.

“Only you call me Min…” he continued, feeling his cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “And I like it more when you call me that,” he confessed, returning to untangle the lights from around the alien’s body.

Jisung watched him quietly from above, Minho’s face hidden from view, focused.

“All done.”

“Thanks, Min,” Jisung said, making the other blush once again. No matter how much they had shared or what they had been through together, Minho felt his heart race at the smallest things. Even a simple smile from the other could throw him off balance, any movement, a word, a touch.

“Where do I put this?” the alien asked, holding the star-shaped tree topper in his hands, curious, drawing Minho’s attention again.

“Oh, that goes on top of the tree,” Minho explained, finishing arranging the lights around it.

Jisung rose onto his tiptoes to reach it, leaning forward in search of support among the tree’s branches, but there was none. He wobbled forward, and for a moment, time seemed to stop.

Minho prevented disaster by stretching out his hands and grabbing him by the hips just in time, pulling him close. Jisung closed his eyes, bracing for impact and instead, collided with Minho’s chest, the star still clutched tightly in his fingers.

“Be careful,” he warned again, his voice soft, as he loosened his grip and turned it into a hug.

Jisung relaxed against him, and Minho pressed a gentle kiss to his neck, tightening his hold around the alien’s waist for fear he might slip away.

It was the first Christmas he’d spent with someone in a long time. He had always loved the magic of the season, but without anyone to share it with, year after year it had become just another sad, empty holiday.

“Let’s do it together, okay?” he said, slowly caressing Jisung’s stomach.

Without breaking the embrace, the alien turned to meet his gaze. Minho instinctively leaned closer to the side of his face to follow his movement, stealing a quick peck from his lips.

Jisung immediately leaned in as well, rising slightly onto his tiptoes to return the kiss, and Minho smiled satisfied, before loosening his hold.

They went back to decorating the tree together, this time passing ornaments back and forth and deciding together where to place each one. They adorned it with pink and green baubles, just the way Jisung liked, and then decorated the rest of the house with various holiday ornaments.

“So…this is Christmas?” the blonde murmured, looking around in wonder, his gaze fixed on the tree, illuminated by a thousand colors, like a rainbow of flickering lights.

“Yes, and by tradition, people exchange gifts,” Minho explained, sitting down in the armchair next to him.

“Gifts?”

“Yes. Children are told that a man with a long beard, dressed in red, comes on Christmas Eve in a sleigh pulled by reindeer and delivers presents all over the city.”

“A sleigh pulled by reindeer?? I want to see it!” The alien jumped to his feet, excited, making Minho burst into laughter.

“But it’s just a legend, it’s not real, kind of like dragons,” he said lightly, not wanting to disappoint him. Jisung sat back on the couch with a pout, arms crossed over his chest.

“Come on, don’t make that face. Actually, you know what…” Minho suddenly stood up, searching through the living room drawers. Jisung leaned on the back of the couch, watching him curiously.

“What are you looking for?” he asked, peering over the armrest, intrigued by Minho’s actions.

“This,” he said, returning to sit down and handing him a sheet of paper and a pen.

“Let’s write a Christmas letter. Write down everything you’d like to receive as a gift.”

The alien blinked several times, then his face lit up at the idea, and he immediately hunched over the table, beginning to write. Minho leaned in to peek, but Jisung noticed and curled up, shielding the letter from view.

“You’re not writing, Min?” the blonde paused, realizing only then that the other hadn’t taken any paper or pen.

“Ah, me? It’s not necessary,” he shook his head, smiling.

Jisung frowned and turned back to his own paper, then tore it in half and offered it to him.

“Write too!! I want to give you gifts,” he insisted, waving the piece of paper in front of Minho’s face and he couldn’t refuse, taking the scrap into his hands.

He only worried about making things difficult for the other by asking for something he couldn’t actually get, so he filled his list with things Jisung could realistically find without spending money, like a bouquet of wildflowers or homemade cookies. 

Then he looked up at the window and found himself squinting, as if to make sure what he was seeing was real.

“Jisung!” he grabbed his arm, pointing outside and pulling him toward the window.

“It’s snowing!” Minho exclaimed, turning to the alien, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Come on, let’s go out,” the older one said, tugging at his sleeve as he started getting dressed to head outside.

Jisung followed eagerly, thrilled just to see Minho so excited.

“If you love the rain, you’re going to love this even more,” Minho said, taking his hands and guiding him briskly outside, where snow had just begun to settle on the little garden in front of his house.

Tiny ice crystals fell from the sky, dancing lightly around them, coating car roofs and the bare branches of the trees in white.

Jisung held out a hand, waiting for one of the flakes to land on his palm, but when it touched his skin, it quickly melted into water.

“Min!!!” Jisung called, holding up his hand to show him, and ran toward him, nearly slipping on the ice, only to bump into Minho, who caught him by the shoulders.

“Do you like it?? And you haven’t even seen anything yet!” Minho exclaimed. He couldn’t wait for the snow to pile up enough to make snowballs or try building a snowman.

Jisung tilted his head to the sky, watching the flakes fall, white, pure, light as a caress on his face. Minho watched silently and mirrored him, closing his eyes.

He reached out for the alien’s hand, and without looking, their fingers intertwined into a single knot. Jisung then turned to Minho, a thought crossing his mind: he never wanted that moment to end.

He squeezed Minho’s hand, drawing him closer to feel his warmth, and kissed him under the gently falling snow.

Minho’s eyes widened in surprise, but he relaxed the instant after, returning the kiss. He pulled back a little with a happy smile, tugging Jisung toward him and spinning him around as they began to dance together amid the snowflakes, as if the world around them had disappeared.

Jisung’s laughter mingled with Minho’s, each step risking a slip, the only two outside in the cold, a cloud of their own breath veiling them under the streetlights.

Then Minho let go of his hand, bent down, and scooped up some snow from the ground, shaping it into a ball and throwing it at Jisung, hitting him square in the face.

For a moment, Jisung was startled, not understanding why. But then he stopped to watch Minho laughing with delight and got it. He decided to return the favor, joining in the game.

He crouched down, gathered some snow in his hands, and as he rose, threw it at Minho, but missed. Undeterred, he quickly formed another, ran toward him, and threw it from up close, almost slipping in the process.

They chased each other for the next few minutes, pelting each other with snowballs, until they finally collided and fell onto the snowy lawn. Their breaths were short, their throats burned, yet none of those sensations seemed enough to stop them.

“I like the snow,” he admitted happily, stretching out an arm toward the sky as if to catch it on his hand.

“We’re not done yet,” Minho said, turning to him and standing up, offering his support. He then explained how to roll a snowball across the lawn to make it bigger, creating the body of the snowman, and they did the same for the head.

“Now we need some sticks for the arms,” Minho pointed out, and Jisung hurried along the path to find a few, carefully choosing ones that looked similar before handing them over.

“The honor is yours,” Minho said, shaking his head, letting the alien complete the work. Jisung approached carefully and stuck the sticks into the sides of the snowman.

“Something’s missing…” Minho murmured thoughtfully, looking around. Jisung followed silently, crouching and standing whenever Minho did, imitating him in search of who knows what, until they returned in front of their creation.

“Now that’s better,” he admitted after placing two small sticks on the snowman’s head to mimic alien antennae.

Jisung opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came to mind, so he offered a shy smile and clung to Minho’s arm.

“Let’s go inside, my hands are frozen,” Minho complained shortly after, hugging himself as he approached the door, with Jisung pressed close.

The next day, Minho took him for a walk around the city to show him how it was decorated, all the little lights adorning the streets. Linked arm in arm, he walked tall, admiring the lit-up terraces sparkling in the night.

“Santa’s sleigh,” Minho pointed out, showing him a carriage lit up to look like a sleigh complete with reindeer.

“We can sit inside if you want,” he invited, pressing gently against Jisung’s back to encourage him. They both climbed up and nestled quietly inside. A stream of people passed by, indifferent to them, while they stayed close, enjoying the simple warmth of each other’s presence, wrapped up in their own world, cocooned in their little bubble

“I want to take you somewhere,” Minho broke the silence, signaling him to get down, as a few children seemed impatiently waiting their turn.

He took Jisung by the hand and led him to the ice skating rink. A huge sheet of ice stretched across the square, enclosed by a soft barrier to prevent the little ones from getting hurt. Jisung watched people glide across it effortlessly, almost like they were floating, and opened his mouth in wonder.

“Do you want to try?” Minho asked, receiving an enthusiastic yes from the other, who started bouncing on the spot.

Together they approached the little wooden booth to rent a pair of skates each, then sat at the edge of the rink to put them on. Minho helped Jisung tighten his skates, then took his hand to help him up and onto the ice.

“This is my first time too…” Minho admitted, holding onto the edge to avoid falling.

“I was always scared to do it, but now that I’m with you, it feels like the right time,” he added, squeezing the alien’s hand to help him keep his balance.

“Min, it’s slippery…” the blonde complained, nearly sliding several times in place.

“I know, let’s try slowly along the edge,” Minho reassured him, stepping back slightly and taking both his hands to guide him.

Slowly, they took each other’s hands and started walking a few meters along the rink before stopping by the barrier.

“Min, look!” Jisung shouted from the other side of the ice, his eyes sparkling with excitement and the eager desire to try it. He wanted to feel that lightness, to float across the ice like he had seen Minho do moments before.

He took a running start, focusing, pushing off step by step, his heart beating faster with every stride. The ice creaked under his skates as he picked up speed, the cold wind whipping his face, tousling his long hair, and everything around him seemed to slow down.

When he reached Minho, he realized too late that he couldn’t stop. His body went out of control, and with an inevitable crash, he collided with the other, sending them both sprawling onto the ice.

Minho immediately held him, warm hands on the alien’s shoulders, while Jisung apologized.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said worriedly, but Minho burst out laughing, anything but angry.

“You were amazing,” he praised, gripping the barrier to get back up. A smile bloomed on Jisung’s now-relieved face as he grabbed Minho’s hand to pull himself up.

They fell several more times, each tumble accompanied by a mix of yelps and laughter, until finally, they found their rhythm and skated hand in hand across the rink.

“That was so much fun!” the alien exclaimed.

“It almost felt like flying,” he added, gesturing widely on the walk back, while Minho listened quietly, gazing at him with eyes full of love.

Back at home, as Jisung arranged their nest of pillows, Minho’s gaze fell on his letter left unattended on the nightstand. He knew he would have to read it eventually to understand what to do, but when he opened it and began to read, his heart stopped.

His throat burned as he tried to hold back tears, his fingers clutching the paper, slightly crumpling it as they traced the words written there.

“What I want most in the world is to stay with Minho, even though the best gift would be to become human and spend all my days with him, without having to wait every time to see him again. I hope the magic of Christmas can make this wish come true. I don’t really understand how it works, so I hope I didn’t do anything wrong! Thank you, Santa.”

“Min?” Jisung’s voice behind him brought Minho back to reality.

“I’m done,” he announced, patting the pillows to get his attention.

Minho quickly closed the letter, set it on the desk, and wiped his tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before turning around.

“Mh, I’m coming,” he smiled faintly, feeling his voice betray him, cracking slightly at the end.

He settled onto the bed surrounded by pillows and held Jisung close in silence, letting himself sob just a little.

Chapter Text

Christmas soon turned into another memory he would carefully tuck away among his most precious ones. For the alien, it was an overwhelming experience; unwrapping gifts, taking in human traditions, and above all finally being able to give Minho something that was truly his.

Over the previous days, he had asked Minho to teach him how to use a phone. He listened closely, curious and focused, and during a brief moment of distraction he secretly saved Chan’s number so he could message him without anyone knowing.

Later, he asked him how he could get pudding without having any money, a request so innocent that it made the older one melt through the screen.

Chan laughed and, without thinking twice, went out to buy it right away. He told him to meet on the morning of Christmas Eve, guessing that Jisung probably didn’t even know it had to be kept in the fridge. He decided it was safer to give it to him at the last moment, so it wouldn’t get ruined before it was even opened.

The look of surprise on Minho’s face when he unwrapped the gift was priceless, his eyes wide, his expression bright and full of disbelief.

Jisung found himself staring at him as if hypnotized, happy that he had finally managed to draw out that same wonder he had only seen once before, when he had given him flowers.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about his own limits.

Lately, the weight of everything Minho did for him had begun to press heavily on his mind. Minho was always there, patient, present, ready to guide him through a world that was still unfamiliar to Jisung, while he kept asking himself what he had truly given in return.

He wished he could surprise him every day, give back at least a small part of everything he received. Minho had so much to teach him, so much to show him, but him? What had he really done for Minho?

As time passed, being by his side started to make him feel somehow inferior. Not because Minho ever made him feel that way, quite the opposite, Minho never thought such a thing, but because Jisung couldn’t silence that persistent voice inside his own head.

His thoughts grew louder and louder, enough to catch Minho’s attention. He began noticing Jisung’s distracted moments, the times when he would drift off and stare into nothing without even realizing it.

He had asked him more than once if something was wrong, if he needed to talk, but Jisung always shrugged it off with a quick smile, slipping back into normalcy as if nothing had happened.

Until one day they ended up lying on the bed, curled up next to each other. They had no plans, nothing to pull them away, just the two of them, wrapped in the quiet of the room and each other’s warmth, letting time pass slowly.

“Everything okay?” Minho asked, absentmindedly playing with the other’s blond strands.

Jisung lay beside him, his head resting on Minho’s chest, lulled by the slow rhythm of his breathing, eyes closed as he melted into his touch.

He nodded silently and curled closer against him, his thoughts once again taking over his mind.

Minho watched him, his hand moving slowly along his back, beginning to soothe him as if to offer comfort, sensing that something wasn’t right.

“You know you can tell me if something’s wrong,” he murmured reassuringly, his palm gliding gently over his back as he shifted slightly on the mattress to make him more comfortable.

“It’s nothing, Min,” Jisung whispered against his chest, his soft cheek pressed into his stomach.

“I was just thinking…you don’t really know anything about me. About my planet either,” he finally admitted, his fingers tightening around the fabric of Minho’s hoodie.

“And I’d like to tell you about it, but…there isn’t much to say. And I don’t have many good memories tied to it,” he continued, opening his eyes to stare at some vague point in the room as he spoke, feeling Minho’s hand pause on his back.

“I wish I could show you who I am, where I come from…teach you things the way you do with me,” he confessed with a small sigh.

Minho pushed himself up slightly, forcing Jisung to move back just enough so he could look him in the face, their eyes meeting.

“Then show me,” he said simply, resting a hand against his cheek.

“If that’s what was worrying you…you could’ve told me right away.”

The alien’s eyes lit up instantly. He sat up in a rush, excitement written all over his face.

“Really??” he asked, leaning over him eagerly, pressing unconsciously against his stomach.

Minho flinched and burst out laughing, one hand going to his abdomen as he shifted on the mattress to give him space to move.

“Of course. I don’t know how you want to do it, with your abilities, or–”

“I want to take you there,” Jisung said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up from the bed.

“Take me there…?” Minho asked, confused, as they moved toward the window.

“Yes. Into space,” he replied innocently, tightening his grip on his hand. It took Minho a few seconds to understand what he meant, but he didn’t have time to stop him.

“No, wait, Jisung, humans–” he shouted, but the words died in his throat as he felt his body tear away from reality, as if sucked into a vortex.

Pressure crushed his chest, his ears rang, and for a moment he was swallowed by a blinding light. Then, suddenly absolute silence.

Minho found himself floating inside the alien spaceship, suspended in empty space. He barely managed to turn his head and see the Earth beneath him, a glowing, breathtaking sphere, impossibly distant, before the cold began seeping into his bones with brutal force. The lack of oxygen stole his breath, his lungs tightening in an invisible vice.

“Ji…sung…” Minho whispered weakly, his voice barely there as he brought a trembling hand to his chest, pain spreading through his body, his face twisted in agony.

The alien’s expression changed instantly; his smile vanished, replaced by a flash of horror and confusion. He didn’t understand what was happening, why the human’s body was reacting like that and then he thought of himself, of his own limits.

“I…can’t…breathe…” Minho gasped, every word stabbing at his lungs. He desperately searched for air that wouldn’t come, his throat burning with every attempt. The cold had begun to slowly numb his fingers, his muscles stiffening.

The spaceship protected him from the vacuum of space, but not enough to save his fragile human body. Jisung grabbed his hand and flinched at the touch; it was freezing, stiff as ice.

Panic flashed across his face and, without thinking twice, he brought Minho back to Earth. The landing was rough, but Jisung planted his feet firmly on the ground to keep his balance while holding Minho tightly in his arms.

He could feel the other’s body trembling uncontrollably against him, cold.

“Min…? Min?” he whispered, shaking him gently, terrified even of hurting him, but there was no response.

Minho’s eyes were wide open, glassy and unfocused, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as violent shivers ran through every inch of his body. The warmth that made him feel alive seemed to have been left behind in space.

Jisung began to cry. Tears blurred his vision as he desperately searched for a solution he couldn’t find, until suddenly, an idea cut through the chaos in his mind.

With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone, nearly dropping it. He struggled to unlock it, searched for Chan’s contact through a tear-blurred screen, and pressed call while clutching Minho tighter against his chest.

“Jisung? To what do I owe this call?” Chan answered almost immediately, his voice surprised, with a hint of happiness at finally seeing his name pop up on the screen, unaware of the real reason.

“It’s…Minho…” Jisung managed to say.

His voice trembled, broken by sobs, words muffled by uneven breaths and tears sliding down his cheeks as he held the cold body in his arms. On the other end of the line, Chan’s tone changed instantly.

“What happened to Minho?” he asked, worry already tightening his throat.

“I…didn’t mean to…” the alien sobbed, holding Minho even closer.

“Jisung, talk to me…please.” The older one’s voice grew tense, urgent.

“I…took him with me…into space…”

An incredulous silence followed.

“Into…what?” Chan exclaimed, agitation clear in his voice.

Jisung curled in on himself, consumed by guilt, unable to even take a full breath.

“I didn’t think…I didn’t think this would happen…I…”

Chan took a deep breath, trying to hold back both anger and fear. “Jisung…humans can’t go into space without special suits and oxygen…God…he could have died.”

Died.

The word echoed through Jisung’s mind like a dull blow.

“Tell me how he is. Please…is he breathing?” Chan asked, his voice tight with anxiety.

Jisung fell silent for a moment, his heart in his throat.

Died.

“Jisung, please!” the voice on the other end insisted.

“Y-yes…he’s breathing…alowly…” he stammered, bringing his face closer to Minho’s to make sure. “He’s…he’s just…really cold…”

Chan spoke immediately after, trying to stay calm despite the tension. “Okay…listen to me carefully. Cover him with as many blankets as you can. Don’t do anything reckless, no hot baths, no sudden heat. You’ll only make things worse.”

The silence on the other end made him even more uneasy.

“Can you do that?” he asked more gently, trying not to send the other into a panic.

“Y-yes…I think so…” Jisung whispered, taking Minho’s hand. It was stiff, freezing cold like ice, and fear tightened around his throat, leaving him unable to speak.

“Good…if you can, use lukewarm compresses, only lukewarm, on his neck, chest, and groin. Stay with him, keep him warm. I’m out of town for work, I won’t make it back in time…you have to take care of him.” Chan’s voice trembled slightly, but he kept it under control.

A heavy breath came through the phone. “Hurry, Jisung…and call me the second anything changes, anything at all,” he added before ending the call.

Jisung wiped his tears quickly with the back of his hand, even though they kept falling down his cheeks without stopping. With enormous effort, he lifted Minho, supporting his limp weight as he staggered toward the front door.

Each step felt heavier than the last, his breath short, his heart lodged in his throat.

As usual, his mother wasn’t home, so he had to climb along the wall to reach the window, his trembling fingers searching for something to grip. He managed to slip inside, unlock the door from within, then rushed back out and carefully dragged Minho inside.

He laid him down gently on the couch, adjusting a pillow under his head, then ran to the bedroom. He searched everywhere, grabbing as many blankets and sheets as he could find, his vision blurred by tears and panic, his hands shaking so badly he dropped half the things he picked up. His own body felt close to giving out, but he didn’t stop.

He returned to Minho and began removing his clothes, now stiff and frozen. Underneath, his skin was pale, cold, tinged with a faint bluish hue that made Jisung’s stomach twist with fear.

He wrapped him in as many layers as possible, covering him with almost obsessive care, then slipped under the blankets with him without hesitation.

Tiny crystals of ice had formed along Minho’s lashes and in his hair, faintly shimmering in the light. Jisung loved snow, but there was nothing beautiful about these; they were cruel, born from Minho’s suffering.

“I’m sorry, Min…I didn’t know…” he whispered, his voice breaking as he held him close, desperately trying to share his warmth, focusing on the areas Chan had mentioned.

His body wasn’t as warm as a human’s, yet it gave off a steady heat that he tried to press closer, sharing as much as he could.

A sharp pain began spreading through him, the signal that his own time was running out, but he didn’t care. Not this time. He wouldn’t leave him alone, not even if his own body started to fail.

He held him tighter, slowly rubbing his hands over his skin with careful, steady movements, trying to warm him without hurting him.

Minho was just conscious enough to feel the other’s presence , the fragile warmth wrapped around him, the broken voice that kept apologizing, but his body felt heavy, distant, as if trapped beneath a layer of ice. He couldn’t even move his arms.

He felt sore, drained and yet, deep down, he wanted to tell him to stop crying, not to be afraid, that everything would be fine in a few minutes.

He swallowed with effort, his lips trembling faintly. His fingers moved only a few millimeters beneath the blankets as a slow, uncertain warmth began to spread across his chest, like a spark refusing to go out.

“Jisung…” he whispered weakly, his voice fragile, faint like a small bird singing in the middle of a storm, yet strong enough for the alien to hear as he suddenly lifted his head.

“Min?” the creature called immediately, placing both hands on his face, offering him warmth, his lips, once bluish, now slowly returning to pink.

Minho struggled to move, but he forced himself to lift his hand and rest it over the other’s, touch the only way he could reassure him.

That was when Jisung began crying again. Guilt crushed him beneath its weight. The one time he had tried to show Minho something of his world, he had nearly lost him.

“I’m sorry…” he kept repeating through sobs, burying himself against his body again, holding him a little tighter beneath the blankets.

Little by little, Minho’s trembling stopped, and his breathing returned to normal as the minutes passed. He still felt dazed and cold, but the alien’s body pressed against his helped him endure the lingering chill.

“Stop crying…” he sighed tiredly, running a hand through his hair.

Jisung felt his own body begging for mercy, but he ignored it. There was no pain greater than hurting Minho.

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I know, Jisung…” the boy replied, weakly threading his fingers through his strands, finally able to feel the softness again. Sensation had returned and with it, the warmth of his body.

Luckily, Jisung had been quick to bring him back to Earth; had he hesitated even a few seconds longer, Minho might have suffered severe or irreversible consequences.

“But thanks to you, I can say I was the first human on an alien spaceship,” he tried to joke, hoping to cheer him up.

“The first guy to see how beautiful Earth looks from space,” he added, thinking back to that breathtaking image he had managed to capture before everything started collapsing around him.

Jisung lifted his head, and warm tears slid down his cheeks at the sight of his smile.

“Why aren’t you angry?” he asked, confused.

“Because of me, you–”

“Don’t say it,” Minho cut him off, shaking his head.

“You couldn’t have known. And you still saved my life, didn’t you?” he said, gesturing toward himself. “I’m okay.”

But Jisung couldn’t accept what he had done. It didn’t matter that it had been innocent, that he hadn’t known, he simply couldn’t forgive himself.

A sudden coughing fit made him jolt; this time it was his own breath that faltered, air ripped from his chest.

“Jisung? What time is it?” Minho asked anxiously, searching for his phone, but the alien stopped him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, ignoring the pain tightening around his chest, that suffocating feeling that made each breath harder than the last.

He stayed there, stubborn, determined to give him a little more of his own warmth, as if that were the only way to make up for his mistakes. The only way to truly atone was to bear the same suffering himself and since Minho couldn’t bring himself to blame him, Jisung punished himself instead.

“Jisung, please…it’s late. I’m better now you can go. You don’t need to stay,” the older one pleaded, trying to stand despite his body protesting with every movement.

Then their eyes met, and Minho saw a pain in those dark irises deeper than anything he had ever witnessed, not even the first day they met.

Jisung lowered his gaze, unable to face his judgment, and finally gave in, disappearing right before his eyes.

Chapter Text

As soon as Jisung vanished from in front of him, Minho began trembling again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold. He couldn’t hold back the spasms of his sobs, his breathing breaking apart between tears.

He was scared, shaken, probably still in shock, even though he had made the alien believe otherwise.

He had really been about to die.

He wasn’t angry at Jisung for what had happened. He knew the gesture had come from something pure, something noble. But the fear he had felt left a hollow that refused to close.

He pushed himself off the couch, throwing the blankets aside, and stumbled over his own feet, his legs still aching and weak. He braced himself against the doorframe to stay upright and dragged himself to the bathroom, where he threw up.

His knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor with a dull thud, gripping the sink beside him for support. It wasn’t just the terror of that moment slowly eating away at him, it was the thought of never seeing Jisung again that struck even more cruelly.

He had no idea how the alien would react to all this, but in the few fragments of clarity he’d had, a dark, uneasy feeling had kept twisting in his stomach.

Jisung, alien or not, had feelings and they were becoming more human every single day. The fact that he felt so inferior to Minho had pushed him into doing something so reckless. But Minho didn’t know how else to make him understand that he didn’t need to take him to the moon to make him happy.

He wiped his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie and tried to stand, grabbing onto whatever he could around him. He didn’t know how long he had remained on the floor, staring at the ceramic tiles on the wall, trying to slow his breathing and quiet his sobs. His throat burned. His body ached.

Then the doorbell rang, and for a split second he hoped, irrationally, that it was the alien, forgetting everything else. He rushed to open the door, but his expression shifted when he found Chan standing there.

“Minho, are you okay?” Chan asked, surprised to see him on his feet, before pulling him into a tight hug.

“Jisung stopped answering me, so I came as fast as I could.”

Minho rested his cheek against the other’s shoulder and melted into the embrace, searching for comfort.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Chan said, guiding him back in and closing the door.

As much as Minho tried to compose himself, Chan could tell he had been crying until moments ago from his red, glossy eyes and the dampness still clinging to his cheeks.

“That was one hell of a scare, you know…” he said, sitting beside him, trying to stay close and choose his words carefully.

“When Jisung called me, I was in the middle of a meeting. I did everything I could to get here as fast as possible…” He trailed off, glancing around.

“But speaking of him...where is he?”

Minho clenched his fists on his knees, holding his tears at the back of his throat.

“He had to go…” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced himself. A brief silence followed, the hesitation in his voice obvious as Chan waited patiently for him to continue.

“He ran away…” he corrected quietly, keeping his gaze lowered.

“Actually, he’d reached his limit, so he would’ve had to go back into space anyway. But the way he left, Chan…it broke my heart,” he admitted, finally lifting his eyes, now filled with tears once more.

“I know it sounds absurd…shouldn’t I be mad at him for almost killing me?” he asked, feeling somehow in the wrong, but he couldn’t command his feelings, and his heart hadn’t even needed to forgive him.

“I know he didn’t mean it and I’m alive because of him, so I don’t really have a reason to be angry…but how do I make him understand that?”

His voice broke on that last sentence, betraying his effort to hold back his sobs.

“The look on his face…Chan, I can’t forget it. It’s burned into my mind. I see it every time I close my eyes…the terror, the fear, the guilt,” he explained as a tear traced its way down his cheek.

“I know what he’s thinking right now, and that’s what scares me…what if he never wants to see me again because he’s afraid to face me?”

Desperation seeped into his words as he ran his hands through his hair. Chan moved his hand to his back and began stroking it gently, then cupped his face and pulled him close, guiding him to rest against his chest.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, unable to help himself.

“You almost died, and all you can think about is the one who nearly killed you. I hope a love like that finds me someday,” he added softly, rocking him in his arms, trying to calm him down.

“And yet…seeing you safe now, I can’t help but forgive him too,” he continued thoughtfully.

“If I’d lost you, I never would have accepted it. But blaming him for something he couldn’t possibly have known doesn’t make much sense…” He trailed off as Minho shifted beneath him, pulling away slightly to sit up and wipe his tears.

“I haven’t talked to Jisung much,” Chan went on, “but every time he reached out to me first, it was to ask how he could make you happy...what he could give you to make you smile. Everything he ever asked me was about you, about your well being.”

Minho’s eyes widened at that, his pupils dilating at the thought, filled with tenderness and love.

“I think he just wants to do everything he can to repay you…”

“But he doesn’t have to,” Minho sighed, shaking his head.

“I thought I’d made it clear that his company is enough for me. That his presence alone is the most important thing in my life,” he said, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

“Where did I go wrong?”

“No, Minho, hey. You didn’t do anything wrong. Calm down,” Chan stopped him immediately before panic could take over.

“Be reasonable. You’ve given him more than most human beings ever get to have in a lifetime. But imagine being the one receiving all that, wouldn’t you feel a little inferior too?” Chan asked, crossing his arms.

The thought hit Minho exactly where it needed to. He parted his lips to answer, but finding no words, he chose silence instead.

“Don’t worry, Minho. I’m sure Jisung needs to figure this out on his own. Maybe he’ll stay away for a few days, but it’ll help him face his doubts,” Chan reassured him with a confident smile.

He had always been someone reliable, and somehow his words always carried a quiet truth.

“I just hope you’re right…” Minho said, wringing his hands together, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

As much as the alien’s presence had become a constant in his life, a way to move forward, to break the monotony of his days, the company that filled his loneliness, the warmth wrapped around his heart, if Jisung needed time, he could take all of it. Minho would wait for him.

He would miss him like air, and his days would turn empty and gray, but he would remain right there, in the same place, ready to welcome him back into his arms.

Jisung, on the other hand, was alone, swallowed by space, trapped in the grip of his thoughts, with no one to comfort or reassure him. He drew his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as if trying to find shelter within himself.

Die.

Jisung kept turning that word over in his mind. He had only brushed against its meaning in the movies they had watched together, but he had always thought of it as something distant, unreal, like dragons.

Death didn’t belong to his species. It was something that concerned humans, not him. He didn’t truly understand it. The idea that Minho could wither like a flower, or disappear forever before his eyes, terrified him enough to make him waver.

He cried for so long that, at some point, the tears simply stopped coming.

Minho had forgiven him, had accepted him again despite his terrible mistake, but that wasn’t enough to erase the guilt. The vast distance between their species suddenly weighed heavily on him. They were so different. So incompatible.

No matter how much he might wish it, Jisung would never become human and Minho would never be able to cross space at his side. They were bound to live according to the rhythms and constraints of his nature. And even if their love was strong enough to fill every void, that thought kept flooding his heart with sadness.

His body ached from within, a torment worse than any pain on Earth that had ever made him writhe. He needed to know if Minho was truly okay. He needed to hold him, to apologize properly, to go back to the way things had been, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

For days he remained alone in space, even contemplating the idea of never returning. And yet he couldn’t bear staying away from him any longer. He knew that trying to protect Minho from himself was foolish, that Minho would suffer more from his absence than from anything else.

As much as Jisung hated himself for what had happened, nothing could erase the immense love Minho felt for him, love he had never failed to show, not even in the hardest moments. Abandoning him would wound him more deeply than death ever could.

Jisung looked down at Earth beneath him, its colors bright and radiant, nothing like his own feelings, now dull and gray. But if he had learned anything from humans, from Minho, it was never to give up when things became difficult.

He was aware of how much he depended on the human. For so long he had been too good at keeping his distance, pretending it was enough. And yet he hesitated until the very last moment, unsure whether going back was truly the right choice.

He kept fearing that reunion for reasons that existed only in his own mind. He knew that when he returned, Minho would do nothing but pull him into his arms. So why wouldn’t that tightness around his throat let him breathe?

ִ ࣪𖤐

“So…how are you holding up?” Chan asked, walking beside him like he had every day since the incident that had changed everything.

Minho gave a small shrug, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“I’m…trying to move forward.” The answer came out flat, heavy, not convincing at all.

He had gone back to attending classes at university because the silence in his apartment had become unbearable. The rooms felt too big, too empty without him. Every corner reminded him of what was missing. He could almost see his ghost sitting among the cushions, patting the mattress for him to join, hear his complaints every time he lost a game, hear that soft, innocent 'Min.'

Being around other people helped drown those thoughts out.

Sometimes, between classes, he would stop to talk to Chan. He had found refuge there too, wanting to distract him, trying to fill the hollow that hurt him so much. When he could, he walked him home, slowing his pace just to stay by his side.

He never asked anything too direct, but he watched him carefully; the distant gaze, the longer silences, the way Minho bit the inside of his cheek nervously. 

“If you want to talk about it…” Chan began cautiously.

“It’s just…it’s been four days since I’ve seen him. Do you think he’ll ever come back?” Minho asked, weakly kicking a small stone along the pavement. He didn’t even have the energy to be angry at the world around him.

“I’m sure he will,” Chan reassured him as they turned the corner, while Minho distractedly searched for his keys in his bag. Chan stopped a few steps behind him as Minho kept rambling with his head lowered.

“Min…”

A single word, spoken softly, fragile as a newborn bird’s song, fleeting as a moment in time, yet strong enough to rise above the faint jingle of keys slipping free from his backpack.

Minho lifted his head, convinced he had imagined it. But when he saw the alien standing in front of him, his grip loosened and everything fell to the ground.

“Jisung…” he breathed, tears flooding his eyes as he moved toward him without thinking, his body guided by nothing but the need to hold him.

He stumbled along the path, legs weak, heart racing and then silence, stillness. His arms wrapped around the alien’s waist and his face buried into his neck, his hold so tight it stole Jisung’s breath. Jisung held him back just as firmly, his legs giving out until they both sank to the ground, crouched on the doorstep of their home.

“I’m sorry…” the blond sobbed, hiding his face against his chest, trembling in his arms.

“I’m so, so sorry…” he repeated, fists clenching behind his back as his lungs burned for air.

Minho shook his head, urgently stroking his hair, searching for his face, his eyes.

“Look at me,” he said through tears, wiping the ones from Jisung’s cheeks.

“I’m alive. I’m here. Nothing else matters.” His hands cupped his face.

“You’re everything to me. That will never change.”

He rested his forehead against his, then found his lips, desperate, aching. Jisung closed his eyes and kissed him back, clinging to him like a lifeline.

All his fears melted away in the other’s warmth, like snow under the sun. His fingers tightened in the fabric of Minho’s jacket, holding on as if terrified he might disappear again.

“I missed you,” the human whispered, voice unsteady, caressing him gently.

Jisung didn’t answer right away. He just held him tighter, gathering the courage to say it back.

“I missed you too…” he finally admitted, searching for Minho’s lips again, desperate for reassurance.

The thought of not being able to share that life with him forever carved a hollow inside his chest, swallowing his happiness like a black hole.

And yet, in that fragile moment, Jisung clung to Minho’s words, to his closeness, to his warmth more than anything else. He was there, real, tangible. That was enough.

“I love you, Min…” he said, pulling back slightly to catch his breath, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“I love you too, Jisung. More than anything else in this universe,” Minho replied, pulling him into another tight embrace.

Chapter Text

Curled up on the bed, the two of them spent the day simply in each other’s company, exchanging gentle touches and quiet laughter.

Minho lay among the usual pillows, while above him, the alien toyed with the rings on his fingers. His back rested against Jisung’s chest, their feet constantly seeking each other, entwined in a playful game.

Jisung spun the silver ring on Minho’s index finger, watching him with curiosity, then slipped it off to try it on himself.

“It fits you perfectly,” Minho said, peeking over just enough to see the hand. He brought his own hand close, comparing them, and then pressed his palm against Jisung’s.

“They’re almost the same,” he added, finishing by interlacing their fingers into a single knot, letting the alien wear his ring.

“I was thinking…” Minho changed the subject, resting both hands on Jisung’s lap and lightly stroking his stomach.

“Would you like to come to university with me? The session’s coming up soon, and maybe it’s better if I attend classes more regularly,” he admitted with a small laugh.

“Then I could introduce you to all my friends, what do you think?” he suggested, noticing Jisung suddenly fidget above him.

The alien turned toward him carefully, making sure not to press too hard, eyes sparkling at the thought.

“Really?” Jisung asked hesitantly, unsure he could even communicate with them, yet the idea warmed his heart.

He needed it, a distraction from the thoughts that constantly tormented him, turning even silence unbearable, filled only with the hum of his mind.

“Of course. It’s not so dangerous for you anymore, you can understand perfectly and respond if anyone tries to provoke you,” Minho reassured him with a gentle smile.

“And I’m sure everyone will like you. Chan already adores you,” he added, propping himself up on his elbows to get comfortable.

“I’m in,” Jisung nodded energetically, a tender smile curving his lips.

Being around humans could help him adapt, make him feel like one of them, and above all, help him forget his mistakes.

Minho was fine, and he had reassured him countless times, yet Jisung couldn’t settle his heart. He knew Minho had forgiven him, but the thought of death still haunted him.

He wanted to talk about it with Minho, to get answers, to know. Their worlds seemed so incompatible, so close but so far away, like two parallel lines walking side by side, never meeting.

And yet they had intertwined their paths, breaking the rules, defying conventions, but at what cost? Did he really want Minho to spend his brief life with a being who knew nothing of death and cared nothing for eternity? Was Jisung truly willing to lose him?

All those unanswered questions piled up day by day, unable to take shape or voice, weighed down by the fear of breaking their daily harmony, terrified they might drift apart. Jisung could not endure another separation, and that fear gripped him.

He only wanted to live his life with Minho.

“Jisung?” Minho called, breaking through his thoughts, brown eyes fixed on him, slightly worried by his absence.

“You okay?” he asked, placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, seeking contact.

Jisung nodded, offering a small smile before hiding his face against Minho’s chest.

“Do you think they’ll accept me?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Minho asked, puzzled, resting his hand in his hair and gently stroking his blond strands.

Jisung found the strength to lift his head and look him in the eyes.

“Because I’m different.”

Something in that sentence tightened inside Minho’s chest. Silence filled the seconds that followed, broken only by the intensity of their gazes.

“No one will notice,” Minho reassured him, giving him a soft smile.

“And there’s no need to tell anyone anyway. After all, you’re human now,” he added simply, shrugging his shoulders.

“Am I?” Jisung asked uncertainly.

Minho leaned over and pulled the small mirror from the nightstand toward the bed, catching both of their reflections, their faces close together.

“Aren’t we similar?”

He pointed to the image, meeting Jisung’s gaze through the mirror before turning back to him.

“And I’m not just talking about appearance,” he continued, searching for the alien’s eyes again.

“Understanding, communication, everyday habits,” he listed, reaching out a hand toward Jisung’s body and stopping over his heart.

“Feelings, emotions, fears…maybe they’re something every creature is born with. But yours are more human than you think, Jisung,” he said softly, tapping his chest with the tip of his finger in a gentle gesture.

“There’s nothing that makes you so different from me,” he concluded with a warm smile, hoping his words would lift his mood.

Over the past few days Jisung had seemed quieter than usual, more withdrawn, but Minho had given him time to process everything without pressuring him.

Jisung returned the smile silently, his cheeks red with embarrassment, his gaze lowered toward the older boy’s hand resting over his chest.

“Thank you, Min…” he murmured, sinking into his arms and hugging him tightly.

Then he pulled back just enough to take Minho’s face in his hands and press his lips to his.

A simple kiss wasn’t enough to express what he was feeling. He had never truly confessed his need to belong, his desire to be seen as one of them and yet Minho, as always, had managed to read his heart and understand what he was really searching for.

A tear slipped down his cheek as his lips found shelter against Minho’s, soft and warm.

He moved his hands behind Minho’s back, gripping the fabric of his hoodie as he sighed into the kiss, breathless. He swallowed the urge to cry by pressing closer against his lips, chasing away the sadness in exchange for the comfort of the moment.

In an instant he shifted above him, sitting on Minho’s lap, unwilling to break the contact. A warmth stirred in Minho’s stomach and he held onto Jisung’s waist to steady himself, following his desperate rhythm with his eyes closed, letting himself drift.

His hands moved over Jisung’s body in quiet caresses, sliding along his sides. He tilted his face slightly, allowing Jisung to lean in further, until they were forced to pull apart just to breathe.

Jisung’s eyes were glossy, his cheeks flushed and warm, his hair messy. He looked as though he might cry again, but Minho pushed himself up on his elbows to steal another kiss from him, finally drawing a smile from his lips.

Then they wrapped themselves around each other and eventually drifted off to sleep on the bed, while the sunlight outside was still bright in the sky.

The next day, Minho woke up early. After getting ready, he waited for Jisung by the doorway.

“Ready?” he asked, lacing his fingers with his as they started walking toward the university.

Jisung nodded excitedly, bouncing lightly at his side, eager to see the place Minho spent so much of his daily life in.

For him, returning there felt strange. It was the place where he had first known fear, surrounded by hostile people who had wanted to hurt him and who had actually hurt Minho. And yet now everything felt different.

He could understand what the people around him were saying, the sound of cars passing on the street, the traffic light changing color. Nothing seemed so frightening anymore now that he understood the world.

“Well, look who decided to show up again!” a voice called out, making them both turn.

“We thought you’d dropped out,” Changbin teased, while Hyunjin and Seungmin beside him were still arguing about something.

“My grades are still higher than yours even when I don’t show up,” Minho replied, rolling his eyes, which made Jeongin burst out laughing as he joined the group.

“What’s so funny?” Changbin turned toward him with a pout.

“Come on, guys. Minho’s back and you’re already fighting,” Chan interrupted, appearing behind them and catching everyone off guard.

He draped one arm over Jisung’s shoulder and the other over Minho’s, pulling them both into a loose embrace.

“Minho…and who’s this?” Felix asked curiously, smiling as he stepped closer beside Chan.

“Oh, him…” Minho scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the alien.

“I’m Jisung,” the blond managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. Having Minho beside him, their hands still linked together, gave him the courage to speak.

“Minho’s boyfriend,” Chan chimed in, nudging them closer together until their shoulders bumped, instantly causing an uproar among the others.

“What? You disappeared because you got a boyfriend?” Hyunjin exclaimed, blinking in disbelief.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Felix pouted dramatically.

“Yeah, hyung, I thought we were friends,” Jeongin added, crossing his arms.

Minho elbowed Chan in the stomach, making him double over in pain, while Jisung instinctively slipped behind Minho’s shoulder, suddenly feeling the weight of everyone’s attention on him.

Minho cleared his throat and squeezed Jisung’s hand.

“It’s…a complicated story. Maybe I’ll tell you someday. But for now, I just wanted to introduce him. I hope you’ll welcome him into the group,” he said, turning to the alien and meeting his lost gaze, trying to reassure him.

Felix stepped forward immediately and grabbed Jisung’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically.

“I’m Felix! It’s really nice to meet you. I’m so glad you’re here with us, I’m sure we’ll get along great,” he said with a bright smile, his voice warm and comforting.

“Wait, so Chan knew and we didn’t?” Changbin put his hands on his hips, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

Chan clutched his still sore stomach and began whistling, avoiding their stares and pretending not to hear the accusation.

“Come on, let’s focus on Jisung before you scare him off,” the older one scolded, quickly changing the subject.

Jeongin stepped forward and, together with Hyunjin, shook the alien’s hand. Jisung quickly learned that this was the way humans greeted each other.

Then it was Seungmin’s turn, welcoming him calmly with a soft smile and bright eyes despite his usual composed demeanor.

Finally came Changbin, who at first looked intimidating but ended up hugging him so tightly that he lifted him off the ground.

Everyone remembered how badly Minho had been hurt after his last breakup, how much he had withdrawn into himself.

Seeing him now beside someone, smiling so easily and somehow overcoming that wall, made them all happy. There was joy, surprise, and an irresistible curiosity about this new boy none of them had ever seen before.

When the lectures began, they split up, and only Chan sat near them.

Jisung watched Minho take notes, focused and serious, and quietly tried to imitate him. He took a notebook from Minho’s backpack and began writing down what the professor was saying, even though he didn’t truly understand it, simply following the rhythm of the words.

“So…how are things going?” Chan whispered beside him so the others wouldn’t hear.

“They’re good…but Jisung seems sadder and quieter than before, like he’s always thinking about something. That’s why I decided to bring him to class with me. I was thinking of doing it every day from now on…maybe if he manages to fit in with the others, he’ll feel better,” Minho admitted, stealing a glance at the alien, who was busy writing something in his notebook.

Minho smiled softly at the sight before turning back to Chan.

“I just wish he’d stop thinking about what happened…” he sighed, staring into space.

“I’m sure he will. It was a great idea, everyone will love him and basically adopt him, so don’t worry,” the older boy reassured him.

Minho nodded and went back to taking notes, while Jisung, even though he wanted to talk to him, simply watched him instead.

Every now and then he reached out as if to get his attention, only to pull his hand back again when he noticed the silence and concentration surrounding them.

When the lecture finally ended, the group gathered outside the university, where a wide green park stretched out in front of the building.

They decided to organize a soccer match, their first in a long time. Minho hesitated, though. None of them were particularly skilled except Chan and Hyunjin, and above all the thought that Jisung might get hurt worried him.

“I want to try,” the alien insisted, certain of his decision.

Minho couldn’t really stop him, so he quickly explained the rules before taking his place on the field and starting the game.

Running early in the morning helped him endure a kind of effort he wasn’t used to, but controlling the ball was another matter entirely.

With a lucky break he managed to reach the opposing goal and tried to kick, failing miserably and sending the ball wide before tripping on the dirt.

Minho ran over immediately to help him, surrounded by the amused looks of the others. Jisung, however, didn’t seem to mind.

Even though he wasn’t good at it, even though he had failed and the others were laughing, he still smiled, completely immersed in the moment, happy just to be there.

“The next one will go in,” Minho promised, patting his shoulder before running back onto the field.

Then the second opportunity finally came.

They found themselves in front of the goal again. Minho managed to slip past Changbin on defense and passed the ball to Jisung, who paused for a second to catch his breath before shooting.

He studied the goal for a moment, ignoring Hyunjin rushing toward him to steal the ball, and kicked, catching Felix completely off guard. The Australian failed to stop it, and the ball slid straight into the net, earning Jisung’s team their first goal.

“Nice one! See? I told you!” Minho ran toward him and lifted him into the air, spinning him around on the field while their friends shouted and cheered around them. Chan and Jeongin rushed over and hugged the blond victoriously.

Jisung felt incredibly happy. That small moment of triumph meant so much to him.

But like everything on that planet, it was destined to end.

The sun began to set, and his body began to give in. The first symptoms appeared quickly: his legs throbbed and no longer responded the way they should, forcing him to slow down.

Then a sharp pain in his side made him stop completely, right in the path of the ball, and the kick struck him squarely, sending him crashing heavily to the ground.

Minho rushed to him in worry, and the others quickly gathered around.

“Jisung, are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you,” Hyunjin apologized, kneeling on the grass and reaching out to touch him in support, but the alien pulled away, clutching his side.

“Jisung…” Minho whispered, glancing at his watch. The sky had suddenly grown dark, and none of them had noticed the time while they were having fun.

“I can’t stay here…” Jisung whispered, barely holding back his tears. He sprang to his feet and ran off the field.

Chan turned to Minho, giving him a quick nod to follow while stopping the others.

“I’ll go after him. You guys keep playing,” Minho said before chasing after the alien.

“Jisung, wait!” he shouted, trying to catch up.

The alien stopped shortly after, certain he had reached a secluded spot. He lowered his head, waiting for Minho to reach him.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? It’s time to go,” Minho said, bending over slightly to catch his breath before grabbing Jisung’s wrist and lifting his face to look at him, only to meet a pained expression.

Jisung was crying.

“Why…” his trembling voice whispered.

“Why can’t I be like you?” he sobbed as Minho straightened up to face him.

“Why do I have to live between two worlds all the time without ever having a place of my own?”

“Jisung…” Minho stepped forward, but the alien stepped back, slipping out of his grasp.

“If I’m human like you say, why can’t I live normally on Earth?” He couldn’t look at Minho as he spoke.

He felt hurt, betrayed, as if it were Minho’s fault for making him believe in that illusion.

“Why can’t I just stay out late with you? With all of you…why?”

“Jisung…we don’t have to be together all the time. No one will abandon you because of that. I’ll always be here waiting for you to come back,” Minho tried to calm him, stepping closer again to take his hand.

But once again Jisung pulled away.

“Don’t you understand? This can’t work between us,” he raised his voice, freezing Minho’s hand in midair.

A sharp pain shot through his chest, like a knife straight to the heart.

“All of this will disappear someday. You won’t be here anymore, and I’ll be alone again like always,” he continued, his voice dropping again, tears sliding down his cheeks.

“I don’t want to live my life following a calendar...counting the hours. I just want to...be with you,” he said, the words scraping painfully through his throat like needles.

“Jisung, wait…” Minho pleaded through tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” he asked desperately, finally grabbing Jisung’s arm, unwilling to let him go.

“If this was weighing on you so much, you could’ve told me. We could’ve talked about it…we could’ve found a solution…”

Silence fell over them, cruel and heavy, broken only by the sound of Jisung’s sobs.

“Min…” he said quietly.

“There’s no solution to death.”

And with those words, he vanished before Minho’s eyes, leaving him collapsing to his knees like rain hitting the asphalt.

Chapter Text

“There is no solution to death.”

Minho kept hearing those words buzzing in his mind.

So in the end, he hadn’t managed to protect him from that harsh truth, hadn’t managed to shield him from that inevitable fate. He knew that sooner or later he would come to that realization, but he had been waiting for the right moment to talk to him about it and now he didn’t even know if he would ever see him again.

He had no way to communicate with him. The only thing he could do was wait.

“But I don’t have eternity...” he whispered through his tears, lifting his arm in front of his face to hide, as if the world could see him and judge him.

The bedroom door suddenly flew open, making him flinch.

“Hey you, lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, I thought that you were dead,” Chan said as he walked in.

Minho sat up, quickly wiping away his tears, confused to see the older boy in front of him.

“Your mom let me in,” he explained, closing the door behind him before stepping closer and sitting at the foot of the bed.

Minho didn’t look at him, too embarrassed to have been caught crying.

“I called you and you didn’t answer, so I just showed up... everyone’s worried and confused about what happened,” he said, trying to choose his words carefully.

Minho sighed and sat down on the mattress. He reached for the alien-shaped plushie and pulled it to his chest, fidgeting nervously with its antennae.

“I’m afraid I’ve lost him forever, Chan,” he confessed, trying to hold back his tears.

He swallowed hard several times, trying to push down that knot in his throat that only seemed to grow with every breath. His eyes burned, glossy, but the tears didn’t fall in front of him, they stayed there, suspended, tired of being felt.

His chest felt heavy, tight, his breathing short and uneven. His stomach twisted and churned; a mix of emptiness and nausea kept rising up his throat, until it made him gag, forcing him to clench his teeth to hold it back.

His hands trembled slightly, his lips too, thin, pressed tightly together to keep the sobs from escaping.

“Why do you say that?” Chan asked, leaning closer, gently stroking the plushie with him as if to share that moment of sadness.

“The way he left, the things he said... for all I know, he might have changed planets or gone back home,” he replied, feeling a tear betray him and trail down his cheek.

“I don’t think he would do that. He cares about you too much. I’ve seen how much he needs you and how much you need him. You’re like two sides of the same coin... one argument won’t ruin your relationship,” Chan tried to reassure him, finally managing to catch his attention.

Until then, Minho had kept his gaze lowered, trying to avoid eye contact and hide the state he was in.

“We didn’t even argue... maybe that would’ve been better than... this,” he confessed, going back to stroking the plushie.

“It felt more like surrender... like when you just let go and that’s what scares me more than anything, Chan,” he said, his voice trembling.

“You think he’s giving up? After everything you’ve been through together? I don’t believe that, Minho.” The older boy shook his head, rejecting that possibility even more than Minho himself.

“I mean, I don’t blame him... if I felt constantly out of place too, in a world where I’m the only one who can’t adapt, forced to live forever while everyone else leaves one by one... I mean, why would he even bother?” A faint laugh slipped past his lips, anything but amused.

“By now he’s realized that there’s a greater force looming over humans, something no one can stop, something no one on this earth can escape... I’m talking about death,” he said, lifting his eyes again, now dull and empty.

Chan opened his mouth as if to say something, but hesitated for several moments before answering.

“I think it’s my fault... I was the one who told him about it. When that thing happened in space, I told him you could die...God, I’m such an idiot,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“It’s not your fault, Chan. Sooner or later, he would’ve found out anyway,” Minho reassured him with a small shrug.

There was a moment of silence between them, one where Minho didn’t dare truly look at him. He knew he was on the verge of breaking, one glance would be enough to make him give in. And that was when his mind began to wander, trying to fill the emptiness.

He thought of Jisung laughing without holding back, of the times he leaned against him without a second thought, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Of the times he would show up at his door, of when he had turned into a cat just to get his attention, of the small, almost insignificant gestures: a light shove, a word he had just learned, his soft “Min, I don’t want to go” murmured between complaints.

He remembered how easy it had been, back then, to share the same space without this weight pressing down on him,.without his absence, without anything separating them, not even the language barrier.

Now, instead, that silence was devastating. Every second seemed to stretch, becoming harder to endure, an eternity spent alone, waiting for his return.

Minho inhaled slowly, but his breath broke halfway through. He swallowed again, trying to force down that tight knot in his throat.

“Do you think he’ll come back...?” he finally said. The words burned along his throat, leaving his chapped lips warm as they slipped out.

“I’m sure of it, Minho. It’s not the first time this has happened, I’m certain he just needs space, and once he sorts out his thoughts, he’ll come back to face you,” he reassured him, moving closer to pull him into a hug.

Minho stayed still, clutching the plushie to his chest as the older boy’s arms wrapped around him.

“I’ll tell the others that Jisung wasn’t feeling well and that you’re taking care of him, okay? That way they won’t ask too many questions.”

Minho nodded silently, grateful for Chan’s thoughtfulness.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. Don’t face everything on your own, okay?” he reminded him once again, gently brushing through his brown strands.

“Thank you, Chan,” he finally said, offering a faint smile,.the first one he had managed since waking up that morning

Two days passed after that. Minho had almost given in to the idea that he would never see Jisung again, and yet he kept hoping the storm would pass and bring a rainbow with it in the end.

Then one morning, he went out intending to run a few errands for his mother, since, as usual, she wouldn’t be home for those days.

He walked without any real destination, his hands tucked into his pockets and his gaze lost on the asphalt. The air felt heavy, dense, and when the first drop fell, he barely noticed it.

Then, one after another, the rain began to pour, thick, relentless. Minho hadn’t brought an umbrella, hadn’t even looked at the sky before leaving. He had no reason to, after all, there was nothing left for him to search for up there.

He didn’t bother to pick up his pace or find shelter. He simply lowered his head slightly as his hair clung to his forehead and his shirt grew heavy against his skin.

But when the rain became too strong, he veered off without thinking and slipped under an overpass. The sound of water crashing against the concrete above him was deafening, yet beneath it, it was dry and sheltered, almost comforting until he recognized it.

It wasn’t just any place.

Minho froze, his breath growing heavier. It was the overpass where he had kissed Jisung for the first time. He remembered the rain that day too, lighter, livelier, something almost fun to share with someone.

He remembered his fingers clutching the alien’s hoodie, as if he might slip away at any moment. He remembered his heart racing as he leaned closer to his face, and how brief that moment had been.

Minho closed his eyes for a second, and when he opened them again, he almost thought he could see him still there in front of him, like a reflection, a shadow shaped by memory.

He took a half step forward without realizing it.

“Jisung...” The name left his lips softly, as if he were afraid of scaring the memory away, but the figure in front of him didn’t fade.

The illusion didn’t dissolve. It remained there, still, real. Jisung looked at him from a distance as the rain kept falling beyond the edge of the overpass, but between them there was only a silence heavy with emotion.

Minho stopped breathing for a second, uncertain, and yet sure it wasn’t just a ghost.

“Jisung...” he repeated, this time louder, raising his voice to cut through the downpour.

The alien in front of him, soaked from head to toe, didn’t move a muscle. He stayed where he was, twisting the sleeves of his hoodie, his gaze fixed on the ground.

Minho finally managed to unfreeze his feet, even though each step felt like it weighed tons, and slowly made his way toward him. His heart pounded against his chest like a hammer, so hard it hurt.

His body moved on its own, his arms already open, ready to find the other and pull him close, to fit together until they became one, his mind too weak to stop him, his soul too desperate not to give in.

He wrapped Jisung in a tight embrace, holding on with the fear that it was all a trick of his mind. He feared he would slip through his fingers like grains of sand, vanish like a cloud of vapor into the air, leaving him alone once more.

And yet, something had changed. Minho felt it in that contact, something distant. There was no affection, no warmth from the other, only regret and sadness.

“Min... I came to say goodbye,” he whispered, making the older boy immediately step back, confused by those words.

“W-what.. what are you saying?” he let out a nervous laugh, brushing the long strands away from the alien’s face.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a few days.. and I don’t think I can handle this anymore,” he confessed, and Minho felt his whole world collapse.

“I know it sounds selfish... but I don’t know what else to do,” he continued, unable to meet his eyes.

“No, Jisung, please, listen to me. This isn’t the solution,” Minho tried to reason with him.

“Then what is? If I can’t stay by your side forever, what’s the point?” he asked, lifting his eyes, now filled with tears.

“I can’t live in a world where you’re not there.”

“But I am here!” Minho raised his voice, perhaps for the first time in his life.

“I’m here now, and I’ll be here tomorrow, so please... don’t leave,” he pleaded, gripping his shoulders, feeling the soaked fabric of his hoodie spill water like tears between his fingers.

“We didn’t go through all of this together just to give up at the first obstacle.”

“Yeah, but Minho... you deserve so much more,” the alien cut him off, stepping back slightly to slip out of his grasp.

“You’ve always done so much for me.. but what have I ever done for you?”

Something snapped inside Minho in that moment. He took a deep breath, his hands still at his sides slowly curling into fists. For a second, it seemed like he was about to respond with his usual calm,.but this time, he couldn’t.

“What have you done for me?” His voice broke halfway through, but he didn’t stop, letting the words spill out between sobs, unable to hold them back.

“You...” he faltered, running a hand through his wet hair, frustrated.

“You made me believe in love, Jisung.” He never really raised his voice, but every word carried twice the weight, heavy with emotion.

“You gave me a reason to start again, a reason to keep going, a hope I thought I had lost forever,” he swallowed, his throat tight, trying to hold back his tears.

The rain kept falling around them, its steady sound echoing through their argument.

“You keep underestimating yourself...” a bitter smile brushed his lips, but it didn’t last long. “But ever since I met you, my life stopped being gray.”

His hands trembled slightly,.not from anger, but from fear. The fear of losing him. He took a step forward without even realizing it.

“You brought color into my everyday life, a whole rainbow of emotions I had forgotten. You know... I had already given up. I had given up on love. I thought no one would ever love someone like me,” his voice dropped, more fragile now.

“I was desperate. I felt so wrong, so out of place, just like you feel now, here on this earth,” he paused again, shaking his head.

“And yet, ever since you’ve been here... I don’t feel that way anymore,” he confessed, reaching out to take the alien’s hand gently, almost afraid he might break it.

Minho had always felt like an abandoned field, not truly dead, but dry, barren. The soil hard, cracked into thin fractures, like his heart, unable to grow or hold anything.

Then Jisung had come like a gentle rain, falling without asking for permission, slowly filling those cracks, softening his heart and bringing it back to life.

Love had bloomed again in that barren field, along with flowers he didn’t even know he could keep, growing naturally, without Jisung forcing anything. It had been enough for him to stay, to nourish him with his very essence until he came back to life.

“You’re like water to flowers. You’re life,.you’re essential to me. And even if it doesn’t feel that way to you, I feel alive because of you... and I always will, as long as I’m by your side,” he said, now through tears.

“I know this is all new to you. I know it’s unfair that the world keeps us apart. But believe me, Jisung, even seeing you for just one hour a day gives me the strength to keep going. It makes me look forward even more to the moment we meet again,” he said, intertwining their fingers and bringing their joined hands to his chest.

“Stop thinking you’re inferior. Stop thinking you’re not enough for me. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Jisung, why can’t you see that?” His voice came out so desperate that the alien started crying without even realizing it.

“I don’t regret anything. If someone asked me, I would do it all over again from the beginning, because it was never a burden to be by your side, to follow you anywhere, to teach you about life on Earth, to fall in love with you... I would do it a thousand times over,” he confessed, his voice trembling but firm, determined to reach the deepest, darkest doubt in Jisung’s heart.

“I don’t want to lose you... you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know it’s selfish of me to ask this, but Jisung, please, stay with me. I don’t know how to go on without you...”

His voice broke into a desperate plea, unable to let him go. He lowered his head, resting his forehead against the alien’s shoulder, too exhausted to hold back his tears anymore.

Jisung suddenly felt so empty, so foolish for having even thought about leaving Minho and yet so terrified of losing him. He slowly lifted his arms, as if they weighed a ton, and wrapped them around Minho’s body, letting all his emotions flow into that gesture.

His fingers tightened around his jacket, and little by little his grip grew firmer, steadier. He pulled him closer, until there was no space left between them, setting aside every hesitation, replacing it with the need to keep him there, to not let him go.

“I’m sorry, Min...” he said, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for everything... I’m just so scared,” he sobbed, holding him tightly in his arms.

“You know what humans say? ‘Life is short, enjoy it.’ I hadn’t really thought about it before, but it’s so true... we get so caught up in the fear of suffering, in the anxiety of failing, that we miss the most beautiful opportunities just to protect ourselves.”

“That’s why we have to live it as intensely as possible, so there’s nothing left to regret at the end, so we can let go with a smile... and that’s what I want to share with you,” Minho said, pulling back slightly, wiping his tears, finally looking, after days, at the face of the one he had fallen so deeply in love with.

“I want to share my life with you without regrets. And you deserve that peace too, after everything you’ve been through... allow yourself to be happy, even if it feels fleeting. I’ll always be with you, in your heart, I promise,” he said, gently caressing his cheek.

Jisung looked up at him, his wide, teary eyes reflecting entire galaxies. He leaned into his touch, following the warmth of his hand, and let out a soft sigh through his tears. The sound of the rain grew louder around them, now the only witness to their silence.

Minho gazed at him for a long moment from beneath his lashes, losing himself again and again in his eyes, falling in love with him all over once more. Then his gaze dropped hesitantly, settling on his lips.

It was unconscious, inevitable. He lingered there a second too long, and Jisung noticed, but didn’t look away. Instead, he followed that same invisible line, slowly, until his own gaze came to rest on Minho’s lips.

For a moment, neither of them moved, leaving that silent desire hanging between them. Then, slowly, Minho leaned in, cautious, measured, as if giving Jisung all the time in the world to stop him. But Jisung didn’t.

And so he leaned in too, just slightly, closing that distance with the same slowness, the same weight. Their breaths mingled, warm, their lips brushing without truly touching.

And then, finally, they met, and everything around them faded away. The magic was just the same as always; every time they kissed, it felt like the first. An intense rush of emotion filled them both, binding them together once again, in pain and in love.

Minho placed his hands on the alien’s hips, holding him close with the fear that he might slip away, while Jisung wrapped his arms around his neck, his fingers searching for his hair, clinging to something real, something that wouldn’t vanish.

Water slid down their faces, blending with their breath. They were completely soaked, their clothes clinging to their skin, but neither of them seemed to notice.

The world outside felt distant, far removed from their senses. Beneath the overpass, there was only that kiss, deeper, more intense, less controlled than usual. It was need, fear of losing each other again, a desperate attempt to hold on to something that had already tried to slip away too many times.

And then they were forced to pull back for air.

“I love you, Jisung,” he said. “This world isn’t even capable of containing what I feel for you. Never doubt it and most of all, never doubt yourself. You do far more than you could ever imagine,” he reassured him once again.

“Remember? You’re my life force” he added, finally showing a smile.

“And Min is mine...” the alien replied, mirroring his smile before hiding against his chest.

“I love you too, Min... so much that it hurts,” he whispered, clutching his jacket once more.

Minho held him tightly, resting his chin on his hair, gently stroking his back in silence, letting time flow around them.

Chapter Text

“Min, can I look?” the alien asked, his eyes covered by Minho’s hands.

“No.”

“What about now?” he insisted impatiently, walking slowly.

“I said no,” the other laughed.

“Come onnn, how much longer?” he complained, shaking his body in protest.

Jisung remembered that time Minho had taken him to see the sunflower field, terrified he wouldn’t be able to control his steps, but this time, the fear had given way to pure excitement and anticipation for whatever surprise Minho had in store for him.

“Watch your step,” he warned, carefully guiding him to the entrance of the place, then finally letting go, allowing him to open his eyes.

A small, cozy arcade opened up in front of them, swallowing them into a world of lights and sounds. Neon signs pulsed vividly above their heads, while a chaotic melody of overlapping electronic tunes filled the air around them.

Jisung turned toward Minho and then back to the machines, his mouth wide open, his eyes shining.

“What is this place???” he asked, moving closer to the glass cabinets, brushing against their glowing screens, pressing the red buttons that called to him insistently, flashing on and off.

He placed his hands against the glass of a claw machine, leaving the imprint of his fingers behind. Inside, a sea of colorful plushies piled up, soft teddy bears and strange, bright creatures tangled together.

“Do you want to try?” Minho asked, stepping closer to the blonde with a bright smile on his face.

Jisung nodded eagerly, bouncing in place as Minho pulled a couple of coins from his pocket.

“Here, put it in the slot and keep your hand steady on this,” he explained, guiding his hand to the joystick.

“Aiming for a specific plush on your first try can be disappointing, most attempts fail, so don’t worry if you don’t get it,” Minho reassured him in advance, gently brushing the back of his hand.

“You have to move slowly and bring the claw over the one you like the most. Then, when you think it’s lined up just right, press the button,” Minho guided him step by step the first time, letting go once he got the hang of it.

Jisung bit his lip in concentration; among that chaos, he had spotted a daisy shaped plush and wanted it at all costs, ignoring Minho’s words. But when the mechanical arm closed without grabbing anything, he pouted, his lip curling in annoyance.

“Maybe it’ll go better next time,” Minho tried to reassure him, inserting another coin and giving him a second chance, but Jisung failed again.

The claw descended slowly, almost cruelly precise. It opened, then closed around the plush. For a moment, it seemed to have it, but as the claw rose, swaying slightly, its grip loosened, letting it slip from its hold.

“Ugh, that’s not fair,” the alien complained, crossing his arms over his chest, giving up on the infernal machine.

“Do you want me to try?” Minho asked gently, uncrossing the blonde’s arms, refusing to see him upset during their date.

Jisung nodded silently and watched as the older boy stepped in front of the machine, focused, back straight, hand steady on the joystick.

“Got it,” he said calmly under his breath, watching the plush being carried toward the drop, still too soon to celebrate.

Jisung clung to his arm, trying to release the tension through that small gesture, but Minho didn’t mind. Despite the pressure of his body against his own, he didn’t lose focus, and with one final press, he hit the button, letting the little flower fall into the prize slot.

“There you go, all yours,” he said, bending down to pick it up before handing it to the alien.

Jisung ignored the plush and wrapped his arms tightly around his boyfriend instead, then rose onto his toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his nose squished against the older boy’s face, his lips soft against his skin.

Then he took the flower in his hands and started bouncing in place, happy, while Minho touched his cheek, completely caught off guard by that gesture. It wasn’t so much bold as it was incredibly natural, human. His face flushed red, and he was grateful for the arcade lights, whose reflections hid the embarrassment painted across his features.

Satisfied with his victory, Jisung dragged Minho toward other games, begging him to show him how they worked.

Their first stop was the shooting game. The screen in front of them flickered, revealing scenarios filled with zombies popping out from everywhere.

Minho picked up one of the guns naturally, and Jisung copied him, but unlike him, he held it a bit stiffly, unsure.

“Just shoot, don’t overthink it,” Minho said, aiming at the screen.

Then the game started. Jisung fidgeted, trying to follow everything happening, shooting randomly, missing targets, cheering whenever he hit something by accident, and complaining every time he missed.

Next to him, Minho laughed, precise, fast, trying to stay focused. Still, every now and then he stole a glance at Jisung, more amused by his confusion than by the game itself.

“You’re doing great,” he encouraged him.

“Really?” the alien asked, confused, without stopping pulling the trigger.

But when they finished, Jisung realized he had clearly lost and yet he didn’t mind at all. On the contrary, he couldn’t stop smiling.

“Again!!” he exclaimed right away, full of excitement.

“Of course, come with me,” Minho replied immediately, as if he had expected it.

This time, they sat down at a racing game station with seats and steering wheels. The digital roar of engines drowned out their voices as the screen displayed a track full of sharp turns and neon lights.

“Ready?” Minho asked.

“More than ready,” Jisung answered, focused, taking in Minho’s explanations once again, determined to beat him at least in that game.

Then the race began. Jisung gripped the wheel too tightly, took the first turn too wide, and crashed into the walls more than once. Despite everything, he laughed, trying to get back on track, occasionally elbowing Minho to push him off course.

“Hey, that’s cheating, when did you learn something like that?” the older boy scolded him, keeping his hands on the wheel.

“That’s not fair, you’re too good!” Jisung protested, realizing that competition might not be his thing.

So he threw himself at Minho, abandoning the race with the sole goal of distracting him and dragging him down to defeat with him, and his tactic worked perfectly.

No matter how good Minho was at focusing, when it came to Jisung, it was hard for him to stay unaffected, especially when he clung to him like an octopus, holding on tight.

When the race ended and the results appeared on the screen, Jisung turned to Minho with a satisfied little smirk, his eyes still glowing.

“Another one!!”

Minho sighed, but it wasn’t a tired or heavy sigh. It was soft, warm, born from the deep love he felt for him.

“You’re so cute... what do I do with you?” he murmured, shaking his head before cupping his face in his hands and squishing his soft cheeks between his palms.

He pressed a quick kiss to his lips, and after taking his hand, they stood up again and got lost among the games for the rest of the day.

They tried everything, from billiards to archery, from Pac-Man to bowling, where Jisung ended up rolling onto the lane along with the ball more than once, making Minho rush to his rescue.

All those little mishaps, and Jisung’s clumsy way of approaching new experiences, turned their time together into something even more tender and magical. There was nothing Minho loved more than seeing Jisung smile.

After their last argument, their relationship seemed to have reached a balance, far from fragile. They had faced their greatest fears together, and even though those fears still lingered inside them, the love they felt for each other was strong enough to rise above them.

“Min, let’s try these!” Jisung called from afar, holding up small mystery boxes that promised who knows what treasures inside.

“How do these work?” he asked curiously, turning the box in his hands, trying to figure it out.

“See these figures shown here? You have a chance of finding one of them inside,” Minho explained, pointing at the images.

“I want the green dinosaur!” the blonde almost shouted, making Minho laugh.

“Unfortunately, they’re random... there’s no guarantee you’ll get it. You just have to be lucky,” Minho replied, a little apologetically, gently patting him as if to comfort him.

“You know what, let’s get one each. That way we’ve got two chances, okay?”

Jisung nodded, then, with his tongue caught between his teeth and his brows furrowed in concentration, carefully picked one box, giving it a little shake, as if the toy inside might somehow reveal itself by its weight or sound.

He opened it, tearing through the plastic impatiently, only to find a completely different color. And yet, his expression showed no disappointment at all.

“Min, it’s you!!!” he said, pulling out a small pink bunny figure.

“Me???” Minho asked, pointing at himself before taking the toy into his hands with a smile.

Jisung nodded happily, shifting his gaze between Minho and the little plushie as if to highlight the resemblance. Minho flushed red and lowered his eyes, as though trying to escape that sweet gaze, then picked a box of his own, opening it slowly with the hope of finding what Jisung wanted.

A small green tail peeked out from the package, just like the dinosaur’s one.

“Look what I got…” Minho called, drawing his attention as he showed him the plush he had been hoping for.

“You found it!” Jisung bounced in place, happily lifting the dinosaur toward the ceiling before spinning around and hugging it to his chest.

“Thank you, Min!!” He threw himself at him again, but this time aiming for his lips, stealing a quick kiss filled with joy and gratitude.

Not satisfied, he kissed him again, this time longer, deeper, so intense it sent butterflies swirling in Minho’s stomach.

Minho had to steady himself against the shelf behind him to keep his balance, while Jisung clumsily traced the lines of his body, the plush in his hands getting in the way of his touch.

Minho tried to snap out of his daze and suddenly melted, nearly letting the little bunny slip from his grasp. He wrapped his arms around Jisung’s waist and tilted his head to return the kiss, no longer caring about anything around them.

They pulled apart slowly, their lips hesitant, still drawn to each other. Then they opened their eyes without any hurry, finding themselves face to face, two shy smiles softening their lovestruck expressions.

“It’s us,” Jisung whispered, lowering his gaze before lifting his plush and bringing it close to Minho’s.

“Pink and green,” he said, his expression so adorable it made Minho’s heart ache.

A smile bloomed on Minho’s lips before he pressed a kiss to the alien’s forehead.

“Yeah... it’s us,” he said, pulling him into a tender embrace.

“Shall we go home?” he asked, while Jisung hid his face against his shoulder, pressing his cheek into his denim jacket.

The blonde nodded, and after intertwining their fingers, the two of them left the arcade hand in hand, their matching plushies clipped to their pants.

The next day, they organized a dinner with all their friends and watched a horror movie together, only to discover that Jisung was both scared of them and fascinated at the same time.

The days passed slowly. Minho went back to his classes, and Jisung accompanied him every day, taking notes even though he didn’t attend university. He had started to grow fond of the subject and helped Minho whenever he had an exam, listening to him rehearse at home to check how prepared he was.

Then summer arrived, and with it, the holidays. Minho took Jisung to see the sunflowers, this time in full bloom, and the alien had almost cried at how beautiful they were.

Soon after, he discovered the sea as well. It was Minho who organized that trip with their friends, and together they lived light, radiant days, the sweetest, most unforgettable memories he had ever held in his heart. Watching Jisung grow familiar with sea creatures, get pinched by a crab, and complain about the burning sand under his feet was a one of a kind experience.

Since Minho couldn’t swim, he couldn’t teach him, so they just played by the shore, splashing each other among the waves, ending up falling onto the damp sand among scattered shells.

“I didn’t think there were so many beautiful things on Earth,” Jisung said, lying down, the sea foam brushing against his legs.

“And there are still so many things you haven’t seen,” Minho replied, turning his head toward him, shielding himself from the sun with an arm, grains of sand glinting in his brown hair.

“None more beautiful than you, I bet,” Jisung answered, catching Minho off guard so much that he almost choked.

By now, Jisung had become a master of human language and had no trouble saying things like that. He hadn’t lost his innocence, but he had gained boldness.

“You’re so...” Minho said, giving him a light smack, making him laugh.

“What? I’m not joking. I love traveling with you, and I love discovering the world through you, but the thing I love most on this Earth... is you,” he confessed, rolling to his side before kissing him.

Minho couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

“And I don’t want anything from the universe except to be with you,” he replied, pulling him into his arms, eventually falling asleep beneath the orange glow of the sunset.

Two beings from incompatible worlds, destined not to exist within the same universe, had met by chance and against all logic, they had fallen in love, breaking, one by one, the rules they had always believed unchangeable, until they shattered them completely.

Their bond feared nothing.

It didn’t matter that eternity was an impossible concept for them to hold onto, death no longer had a place in that picture filled with love. Parting in some distant future wouldn’t mean losing each other forever, but evolving. Jisung would remain with Minho even after his death, because within his memories, within his heart, he would live on forever.

The End