Chapter Text
Minho powerwalks through the dorm doors, ignoring someone on the couch – doesn’t matter who, and cuts a straight line to Jisung’s room. The call is still going on, Jisung’s faint crying fed directly into his ear.
“Almost there.” He says as he takes the last steps into Jisung’s room. Which is empty.
He’s absolutely sure that Jisung told him he was in his room. Jisung couldn’t have meant Minho’s room, even if Jisung’s referred to it as his room before too, because that’s where he started and he wasn’t there either.
“Where are you?” He asks, looking around again in case he somehow missed a whole person in the messy room. He wouldn’t put is past Jisung to hide behind something.
“Up.” He hears from his headphones and the room. He frowns before looking up and finding Jisung hyperventilating against the ceiling, tears on his cheeks dripping down onto his bed below. He’s shaking a little, hands pressed against the textured ceiling like he’s simultaneously trying to push off and hold on.
“How the fuck did you get there?” He asks, wildly confused. He stops the call though, pulling out his earbuds so he can pay attention to whatever the fuck is happening in front of him.
“I don’t know, hyung.” Jisung cries, more tears running down his nose and dripping down to the floor. Far to the floor, because he’s up against the goddamn ceiling. “Please help me down.”
He was obviously going to do that, already making his way to the bed and climbing it so he’s standing under Jisung’s floating body. He inspects him, head tilted back uncomfortably far, trying to figure out how bringing him down will work. Jisung’s arms don’t appear to be glued to the ceiling, not when they surge towards Minho’s shoulders, desperate fingers grabbing at him through his shirt.
In the end he just hooks his palm around one of Jisung’s thighs, another at the back of his neck and tugs. Tugs harder than he really needed to, because there’s almost no resistance other than Jisung’s arms tensing in fear as he’s suddenly yanked downwards.
He goes slower after that, controlling Jisung’s decent onto the bed until Minho is kneeling on the covers and Jisung can grab onto a pillow. He doesn’t stay down, Jisung’s torso starts to drift back up the second Minho releases his neck and generating a panicked scream.
Instead Minho presses down harder, pushing on his back so that he’s pressed into the bed and then flopping his own body over Jisung’s to keep him down. That seems to work, whatever force that is dragging Jisung up doesn’t seem impact Minho. Or at least, not enough that he goes floating upwards too.
They lay there for a while, back to chest and just breathing, trying to process what happened. He can feel Jisung’s rapid heartbeat against his cheek, where it’s pressed into his neck. Can feel the shaking of Jisung’s limbs, of his own a little because what the fuck.
“What the fuck was that?” Minho breathes, voice thin with confusion.
“I don’t know.” Jisung whines, slightly muffled by the covers he’s pressed into. “I just came home and laid down and then suddenly I was on the ceiling and couldn’t get down.”
“Hmm.” Minho hums like that makes any goddamn sense, but he can hear the panic in Jisung’s voice and when he turns his head to look down he can see Jisung’s socked feet floating up instead of laying on the covers. Whatever this is, it’s clearly not over.
He turns back up, squirming against Jisung to make himself more comfortable on his back. The moment Minho’s hips lift off Jisung’s side, his butt is drifting upwards until it hits Minho’s thigh. Jisung squeaks in fear for a second before Minho is dropping himself back down, one thigh between Jisung’s legs and chest pressed down so that his head is at Jisung’s shoulder.
“Hyung, is this just a really weird dream?” Jisung asks eventually, which is a pretty valid question.
“I feel awake, but if this is your dream you’re the only one who can know for sure.” Minho mumbles over Jisung’s shoulder, the top of Minho’s head touching the sheets, staring at Jisung’s profile.
“I feel awake too.” Jisung mutters, one eye staring back at Minho with a mix of fear and confusion and exhaustion. “I don’t know how else this can happen though.”
Involuntary floating doesn’t seem like something that just… happens in real life. But Jisung’s body is still, somehow, trying to drift back up despite Minho’s weight holding him down.
They’re both used to some pretty weird things, being idols requires a level of not reacting to insane shit that he had not initially anticipated, but nowhere in the training workshops was the supernatural brought up.
Not this, not having to anchor a group member to the bed lest he float off to the ceiling for some undefined reason. He shifts again and immediately Jisung’s shoulder follows, curling upward as much as Minho’s body allows. He drops back down with a grunt from Jisung, putting his entire bodyweight on his chest.
“Where’s your phone?” Minho asks and he can feel the shrug underneath him.
“It fell somewhere when I started floating.” Jisung says and that’s that. It’s not like either of them can get up to look for it, hopefully it’s charged enough that it’ll last until he can get it plugged in tomorrow.
Minho has no idea what the fuck will happen if Jisung’s floating spell doesn’t stop by tomorrow, he can’t very well be an idol if he’s constantly drifting towards the sky. He has a brief thought, the image of all eight of them at a fan event, Jisung floating over the rest and being anchored by a string tied to a rock like a balloon.
Ridiculous.
Minho digs his own phone out of his pocket, clearing a space on the mattress to prop it up so both of them can see and then queueing up some random youtube video to take their minds off of things. He knows Jisung tends to fall asleep while watching videos these days, especially if he’s got too much on his mind. This absolutely counts as too much, so he gets comfortable on Jisung’s shoulder blades, learning about roman aqueducts and Siberian tigers until they’re both asleep.
Jisung looks normal when Minho wakes up. They’ve both moved in their sleep, Jisung on his side now and curled in on himself a little, and Minho with only one leg draped over Jisung as he lays on his back against the wall.
He needs to get up though, he has to go back to his own room and get ready for some early morning PT. So he groans out his protests and heaves himself up, watching with a critical eye as Jisung stays in place under his covers. He shifts, cuddles into the bed more now that he’s lost Minho’s body heat, but there’s no floating.
Maybe that had been a dream, or some sort of hallucination?
Whatever, he has bigger things to do today. He snags his phone out of the mess at the top of Jisung’s bed and climbs over him as smoothly as he can manage and then is out the door, hurrying to his dorm across the apartment complex and into fresh clothes.
Working out goes fine, it usually does. He has a trainer, so he doesn’t need to think about anything, just repeat the moves until the trainer is happy and then go to the next thing. He likes the complicated stuff a lot more, kickboxing, dancing, but the basics are important even if it’s mind-numbing to lift and thing and but it back down again ad inifinitum.
Mind numbing enough to think about things, to grasp at the details of what happened last night, already fading and dream-like. It had to have been a dream, there’s no other explanation. Just a very vivid one, that he remembers more than he usually does.
The dance practice is better, because this is where he thrives. Arguably it’s just as repetitive because they’ve been practicing the same thing for a week now, but dancing is complex. With a group their size, and especially now that they have so many backup dancers for this comeback , there are enough moving parts that he’s always thinking, watching, plotting how to make small changes that will have a big impact.
It takes all of his focus, monitoring everyone’s footwork and not flinching when he’s showered with sweat off someone’s dripping hair. During the break he turns to Felix, to discuss his special move that they’ve been figuring out through trial and error. They have an idea of what they want, a framework from the choreographer, but Felix has evolved so much now that he has the right to change things, mold their dances to his body.
He’s mid conversation when he hears the same panicked squeak as last night and immediately puts his coffee down before striding across the room and heavily resting both arms on Jisung’s shoulders.
“Do it again.” He says to Felix, having to shout a little to let his voice carry across the room. Felix looks at him, then at Jisung who has big eyes aimed up at Minho, before shrugging and getting into position. Several other members look at him oddly too, but his assigned personality is the weird quirky one so they eventually turn to watch Felix without comment.
Jisung wasn’t very high up when Minho pushed him back down, the tips of his toes were still grazing the wooden floor, but his hair is haloed around him like he is covered in static and Minho tries to smooth it down with one hand. It goes right back to haloed afterwards, the strands reaching up for the ceiling.
Jisung breathes heavily, eyes wide with fear. Minho can see them through the reflection of the mirror on the far side of the room, the two of them looking at each other past Felix’s demonstration.
Minho rips the ballcap off his head, his own hair going all over the place. He places the hat on Jisung and it keeps Jisung’s hair down, although he can still feel Jisung’s shoulders pressing up against his arms.
“Still floating?” Minho whispers low, right next to his ear and Jisung nods back, because it apparently wasn’t a dream. Or still is a dream? Either way he watches as Jisung’s eyes dart around the room carefully, worriedly. He is keeping suspiciously quiet about this potentially life-altering event, which means he doesn’t want the others to know.
“Do you know why?” Minho asks, because it doesn’t seem constant. Jisung made it here without drifting off into outer space, which – yay, new terrifying thought unlocked, but something clearly activates it. Not clearly, Minho has no idea what the fuck he’s doing, whatever thing is afflicting Jisung might not follow any logical rules. He’s just really hoping it does.
“No.” Jisung pouts, and Minho closes his arms around Jisung to show support. It’s a bit of a chokehold, since his biceps are over Jisung’s shoulders to press him down, but Jisung leans into it anyways, resting his cheek against Minho’s elbow.
“It’s ok, we’ll figure it out.” Minho tells him, because this is both of their problems now. “Tilt your chin up higher.” He shouts at Felix, who is still working on his bit. Jisung watches Felix dance until the end of the break is called and Jisung is still floaty. Minho actually has to tense his arms as the pressure against them suddenly shoots up, Jisung surging for the ceiling.
“Stop cuddling, we have to finish this before we can leave.” Changbin calls out, a little mocking. He can feel Jisung move, a tongue sticking out when he angles himself to see Jisung’s profile, a grin on Minho’s face.
Jisung only tenses more at the barb though and Minho has to apply more pressure on his arm to keep Jisung down, the other looping down to hold Jisung tight against him.
“Jagi, you need to calm down.” He murmurs, because if tense means up, relaxed should mean down, right? Hopefully?
Jisung starts his deep breathing, the upwards pressure lessening a little bit at a time and the theory is pretty much confirmed. Minho rubs a hand across Jisung’s side to help him calm down more, pointedly ignoring the rest of the room.
It’s hard, since several of the members start to complain because they’re holding up a the entire dance practice right now, but Jisung only takes a few minutes and some pointed murmuring to focus on his breathing to sink back to the floor and Minho finally lets go.
He stretches his arms out as he walks into position, muscles tight from the strain. Jisung hurries back too, bowing his apologies with a hand on his head to keep his new hat in place. The music starts the moment they’re in formation again, and muscle memory kicks in.
Minho intervenes two more times that practice, intentionally stepping on Jisung’s shoe during one of the pauses to discuss a transition, and draping himself over Jisung’s back after a run through. He probably looks clingy as shit, especially since he hasn’t looked at anyone else for the second half of the practice, but he’s too busy trying to piece together the puzzle to care. The others can tease him about this later.
So far he knows a couple things. There are some tells for when it starts; Jisung’s hair starts to float before the rest of him, and that means that Minho can catch it before he starts drifting off the floor. Especially after Jisung abandons the hat Minho gave him.
The second thing he knows is that calming him down seems to be able to keep him from floating, more or less. It’s also easier to stop the earlier he catches it, the time he stepped on his foot caused a shout of pain but the hair went right back down afterwards, Jisung stable on the dance floor.
And third; Jisung very clearly does not want the others to know. He is avoiding people’s gaze, pretending that it’s Minho who is suddenly very affectionate for no reason. He also specifically answers something Hyunjin says with an “I’m fine.”
Jisung is not fine, objectively not, but Minho can roll with it for now.
Jisung seem secure on the ground when the practice finally ends. He has studio hours with 3RACHA after this, which is good because that means he won’t be alone. Chan and Changbin are also pretty good at making sure he doesn’t stew in his anxieties too much, though Minho does not trust them to handle Jisung floating to the ceiling responsibly. Jisung either, since he hasn’t said a word to them about his new… thing.
Minho has time to think about everything again, as he goes through the rest of his day. He’s pretty sure it’s not a dream anymore, he’s pinched and slapped himself enough to figure that part out. Jisung does somehow float.
He still has no fucking clue on the why or how or anything like that, but going over the dance practice in his head while he should have been paying attention to a brand meeting leads to the guess that it’s probably related to anxiety. It’s the only thing he could come up with, the only thing that tied any of the instances together. Every time Jisung was put on the spot or uncomfortable, his hair lifted.
When he looks up if people can float on the drive home, he gets only swimming posts about how to float in a pool. Searching for if people can fly gets similarly useless hits; explanations about why it’s not possible because humans don’t have hollow bones or giant lungs or whatever. Jisung does probably have proportionally huge lungs, since he can hold a note for way too long, but apparently not huge enough to fly.
It’s not like he’s flying like a bird either. He’s more like a balloon, some sort of anxiety-based swim bladder.
Jisung is still at the studio when Minho gets home, so he can brainstorm for a while longer. Minho has already let himself into Jisung’s room when he told him that they were waiting on a car, the perfect plan ready.
“What happens if you start floating outside? Do you go up forever, or do you think there’s a height limit?” He says the moment Jisung steps into his bedroom.
Jisung has to process the idea, but within seconds his hair is drifting upwards. There’s a look of raw panic in his eyes as he starts to lift off the ground, a hand reaching out to grab onto the doorframe. Jisung is accelerating towards the ceiling by the time Minho makes his way over and hooks a finger through the belt loops of Jisung’s jeans to walk him to the bed. It’s a bit weird, because Minho’s arm is fully in the air, Jisung’s hips clear above his head, but he also seems to weigh nothing in this state so it’s not like he has to do much other than tense his arm so Jisung doesn’t bang his head.
Pulling him down is harder, because he actually has to strain his muscles to counteract whatever is making Jisung fly upwards, but he manages to press him into the bed and keeps pressing as he moves into a straddle. Jisung is still fixating on his fun new thought, one that Minho decided on because it’s been giving him anxiety ever since he first thought of it. And what better way to test if this is triggered by Jisung’s anxiety than to voice his own?
There’s a lot of upwards pressure on his thighs even as he sits squarely on Jisung’s lap, tucking his feet under Jisung’s knees and pressing his hands to his pecs to hold him down. This does seem pretty conclusive.
“So I think I figured out why you float.” Minho says, watching Jisung’s chest rise off the bed the moment he stops pressing. “Or like, what triggers it, I have no idea why this is happening.”
“Ok.” Jisung’s voice is small and reedy because he’s still pretty freaked out. Visibly so, on top of the pressure against his legs. Clearly Jisung does not love facing his own mortality, which makes sense. Minho doesn’t love knowing that Jisung could die either.
“Pretty sure it happens when you’re anxious.” Minho expands, and there’s a sudden, sharp spike in the pressure against his thighs, enough to destabilize him so he falls forward and elbows Jisung right in the sternum trying to stay in place.
“Do you know how often I am anxious, hyung?” Jisung whines, looking appropriately panicked for the amount of pressure Minho is working against. He’s had a long day, with both PT and dance practice, and his thighs burn from the strain.
“I’m starting to get a sense, yes.” Minho says as he gives up and just plasters himself chest to chest, arms curling around to hug Jisung hoping it’ll help. He stays there, holding on tight as Jisung breathes deeply in the quiet room.
“Is that why you opened with the world’s most horrifying thought?” Jisung asks after a little while, the pressure against Minho’s chest calming down.
“I wanted to make sure I was right, so I had to come up with something that would trigger you.” Minho explains, slowly lifting up as the pressure relents. It’s not gone, Jisung is still clearly freaked out, but it’s interesting feeling the pressure given how normal he looks when they make eye contact. Without it, Minho would have guessed Jisung was perfectly calm.
He doesn’t love that either, doesn’t like that Jisung can look fine when he isn’t.
“You could have just told me my outfit looked stupid, you didn’t have to give me agoraphobia.” Jisung pouts and Minho tilts his head to look at him. “All I’m going to think about now is my frozen corpse drifting in lower orbit every time I go outside, which if you’re right, will only increase the odds that I do shoot up into the stratosphere.”
He didn’t know it took so little to set Jisung off, it’s a little bit scary honestly. In this new context, but also just in general- he doesn’t want Jisung to be worried over small things like that.
“It’s the only thing I could think of, ok?” Minho tries to excuse. “I am also concerned about you being outside now, have been all day.”
“Is that why you wanted to know when I was going home?” Jisung asks with a little bit of a mocking tone. “Were you worried about me?”
He allows the ridicule because it seems to be calming Jisung down, also he probably deserves it. He is also worried about Jisung. It’s not a new phenomenon, Minho worries about Jisung a lot in general. He wants Jisung to be happy more than anything in the world and has had multiple sleepless nights over it.
This provides a new layer to the worries though, one he doesn’t like at all. Jisung’s anxiety isn’t just in his mind anymore. And that terrifies Minho a little.
“I want you safe and happy and not floating to the stratosphere.” He says and Jisung coos, because the little shit loves when Minho gets soft with him. “All of the members, but especially you. My anxious jagi.”
Jisung grins at him, the sap.
“Your jagi is very hungry, but also currently floaty because of you, so you can make me happy by cooking dinner. Please?” Jisung tells him and Minho still feels the upward push that confirms his statement.
“Do I just let you hang out with the ceiling or do you want to be anchored down?” Minho asks and Jisung ponders for a second before deciding to try being anchored. He’ll need to drift up anyway, since Minho has to get up to find something to hold him, so he gets off and helps smooth Jisung’s rise to the ceiling before going to his closet and looking around for anything that could help.
He ends up rigging a complex system of interconnected belts, one each through two of the bed’s feet and a third looped around Jisung’s waist, which Minho has to press his entire body weight into Jisung’s thighs so he can tie. It’s unwieldy, it looks stupid and he’s still floating above his bed a little, but it allows Jisung to sit cross-legged while pondering his impending doom.
“Oh, you’re here.” Changbin says the moment Minho exits Jisung’s room. Minho ignores him as he goes to the kitchen, opening the fridge, sighing deeply at the containers of cooked chicken breast and bag of pre-boiled eggs.
“Mmhm. Jisung wants food.” He explains and if it had been any other scenario, he would have told Jisung to fuck off and get his own food. And then made him food anyways, probably, but Minho needs to keep up his air of aloof mystery. The current predicament is pretty much his fault though, so the pretense is not worth maintaining, even in front of the other members.
He ignores Changbin’s look as he gives up on the bro fridge, instead putting a random beanie on to disguise himself as he goes back to his dorm and cooks up a quick stir fry.
He makes his way back, microwaved instant rice and a container of stir fry in hand, chopsticks and a packet of pickled radish in his back pocket. There are a few raised eyebrows when he crosses the apartment with everything, but Jisung is seated in his belt contraption, leaning back and scrolling through his phone while he waits.
He abandons it instantly, excitedly reaching out for his meal. Minho ate while he cooked, so instead he goes to the kitchen to find Jisung something to drink, a thing that the bro dorm reliably stocks at least.
“Hyung, I love you.” Jisung announces when Minho comes back, food in his cheeks and still more being shoveled in. He doesn’t appear to be straining against the belt anymore too, which is nice. Just happily eating while anchored down just in case.
“Why aren’t you telling anyone else?” Minho asks when he’s done eating, the pile of dishes on Jisung’s messy desk for Minho to handle later. Jisung fiddles with the tail of the belt against his legs, twisting the leather around instead of looking at Minho directly.
“I don’t want to go on hiatus again.” Jisung mumbles at his sheets, “I don’t want to be forced out of the group just when we’re getting big. This looks bad, but I’m not more anxious than normal. I- I can deal with it. This isn’t like before, I’m not in crisis. I’m just… prone to levitating.”
“The others could help.” Minho offers, though he understands the sentiment. He remembers Jisung’s hiatus, when he had trembled visibly at the idea of interacting with fans. Back then the only thing to do was remove him, give him space so he could come down from his multi-day panic attack.
He is nothing like that now, Jisung is comfortable on a stage, knows how to smile and nod and play along with the fans. Knows when to turn to the others, to Minho, when he needs help.
“Chan asks me if I want a day off every time I cry. He can’t know, he’ll tell management to cut me off immediately.” Jisung says and Minho can see the fear in his eyes, the fear of this being ripped away from him once more. Minho understands it too, all of them have experienced their dreams being yanked away to some degree. “Plus, maybe it’ll just go away tomorrow. There’s no point bringing it up if this is temporary.”
Minho stays the night again, because Jisung is full of Big Worries and Deep Thoughts. He gets to splay himself over Jisung, an arm along his side and a leg thrown over Jisung’s hips as he falls asleep first.
It does not go away the next day.
Jisung starts to panic when they leave to go to work. With their hands clasped and Minho’s arm pulling down, as well as Jisung’s hand holding on tightly to Minho’s cross body bag for extra security, they make it out to the car intact. It helps that their apartment building has a little roof structure over the front doors, and they rarely go into the company building through the main entrance. That’s reserved only for when they need a fresh crop of paparazzi photos to keep circulating.
The vast majority of the time, the group comes in and out of buildings and venues through underground parking lots. Safer in general because there’s more restricted access, but also safer now because Jisung could be retrieved from the concrete ceilings if it comes to that.
Jisung calms down once they’re inside, getting through their schedules with minimal fuss. It’s all in-company right now, they’re preparing for another comeback while recording the next one after that, so there’s a lot of dancing and filming and studio time.
Minho gets asked by Chan if he has noticed Jisung being clingier than usual, which yes. He has. Jisung is usually clinging to him too, though right now he’s managed to goad Felix into back hugging him.
He’s clever about it too, hovering near the more physically inclined members and latching on to them whenever he needs it. Unlike Minho, Jisung doesn’t need a reason to hug and no one seems to really question it too much. Jisung’s secret is safe between them.
The secrets get annoying two days later, when he’s called at three in the morning because apparently Jisung floats even when he’s unconscious. Despite being exhausted, he’s glad that he put in an exception on his do not disturb for calls from the members because Jisung’s panicked voice shouting at his phone from the ceiling telling him that he banged his head definitely needs attention.
He grabs their first aid kid and a hoodie and makes his way over, tiptoeing through both dorms until he gets to Jisung’s room and finds him flat against the ceiling once again.
He climbs on the bed and reaches up to pull, but Jisung’s pajamas having a lot more stretch than jeans. Jisung has to stifle his protests as Minho bunches the front of his waistband in his fist, giving him a wedgie as he is tugged down to safety. One that is complicated to fix, because Minho pushes him down to the bed and climbs over to sit on the small of his back to hold him in place.
“You know that feeling of being in like, freefall, before you wake up from a dream?” Jisung explains as Minho arranges them so they’re both secure. “Not always in dreams for me now. Was like moments from smashing into the floor when I panicked hard enough to instead slam into the ceiling.”
Minho palpitates his head through his hair, and there is definitely a bump there but nothing feels like it’s bleeding. Jisung will likely come out of this with a bruise and maybe a mild headache, but that’s not the worst outcome his brain can come up with. He keeps those thoughts nicely in his brain this time though, Jisung’s been through enough.
Jisung does develop a mild fear of going to sleep, which means that the belt contraption has to be reassembled so that either of them can get any rest. They link four belts together around the bedframe so Jisung can be held down while he sleeps. For the third time in almost as many days, Minho sleeps with Jisung too, helping the belts keep him down with his body weight.
They also find the Samsung watches they were all gifted at some point, Jisung putting it on so he doesn’t have to yell at bixby to call Minho from however many meters up. Shouting before dawn is probably not the move if he wants to keep this issue a secret from the others.
There are several confused people that morning, when Minho walks out of Jisung’s room and goes back to his dorm in his pajamas, shoeless to boot. It’s just a short walk and a flight of stairs between them, nothing that he’ll get in trouble walking in house slippers for. Nothing worth their snickers about how whipped Minho is for Jisung.
He’d do the same for any of the other members, probably, they simply do not ask.
The belt system only sort of works, they learn a few days into using it. It does keep him on the bed, but only his waist, both sets of limbs apparently drifting up sometimes. It would be fine, but his arms floating up and falling back down does wake him up a decent amount. Jisung also likes a lot of hardware on his belts, so he ends up with weird marks and bruises from them digging in that the stylists pick up on.
Attempting the same concept with scarves does not work, because those things can’t hold a knot for long and Jisung eventually just tugs himself loose and hits the ceiling anyways. So that leaves them with wrapping the scarves around the belts to cushion the stabbing a little. A temporary measure while Minho scrolls through an online sex shop looking for bondage gear to keep his anxious dongsaeng from hurting himself in his sleep.
He’s the one ordering it, partially because he has the more nondescript name and sex gear is a restricted purchase that requires a proof of age to look at, but also because he’s the one who suggested it in the first place. He really hadn’t anticipated that his teenage interest in BDSM-adjacent porn would actually be in any way useful when he first stumbled on it, but here he is: reading the reviews on a set of padded wrist, ankle, and neck restraints.
Jisung is blushing like a virgin off in the corner, because apparently he doesn’t watch kink shit at all. He ok’d the purchase, it’s the only solution they came up with that really makes sense long term, but the implication that Minho watches bondage porn is apparently too much for him.
Whatever, Minho’s not particularly ashamed of his tastes. He’s also done precisely none of it, because he has no idea how he’s even start and he’s not about to ruin his career over a nut. Sex scandals are complicated enough when they’re vanilla. Or hetero.
He is potentially ruining his career over Jisung’s ability to sleep, though the website swears up and down that the packaging will be discreet. He could have gone elsewhere, to Alibaba or something that doesn’t only deal in sex stuff, but he wants Jisung to be comfortable. To have only the highest quality restraints holding him down as he flings himself to the ceiling in his sleep.
He adds some rope to the order too, and some ceiling mounts because he has a plan.
A plan that does not involve tying Jisung up like a trussed pig, despite Jisung’s blushing comments about how the rope seems unnecessary. Minho knows what he’s doing, thank you very much.
“I don’t need to use the rope on you, you’re pliant enough already.” He says, finalizing the order, using the address where packages do not get searched by staff. Minho grins, closing the tab and waiting for the response he knows is coming.
“Hyung you can’t say thatttt.” Jisung whines off to the side, face red but ass firmly in his chair. It’s kind of fun, freeing, being able to mess with Jisung and knowing with absolute certainty how it’s being received. He’s definitely gotten bolder because of it, saying shit he wouldn’t dare with anyone else. He is also just much more comfortable with touching Jisung now, even more than before.
Also edge-of-sexual comments have always been their thing. Jisung blushes and whines every time, but does not tell Minho to stop. He’s been told to stop by others, Chan apparently got some pointed comments about how Minho is too much of a sex object for their brand image from management in the beginning of their career. The solution there was just not to do it on camera, only tease members in private until their audience caught up.
Really until they got old enough that it’d be a bit weird if they all pretended to be blushing virgins. It works for some, Minho particularly likes it on Jisung, but not for everoyne. Plus the fans loves it when Minho gropes the others now, it’s become somewhat of a Stray Kids staple.
“It’s arriving in three to four days. How’s your search going?” Minho declares when he gets the confirmation email, and Jisung flashes his phone, showing the confirmation for the weighted blanked he was tasked to get.
“Two day shipping, I win.” He says and Minho rolls his eyes. The blanket is only twelve kilos, probably not enough on its own, Minho feels like he exerts more pressure than that when he has to pull him down, but likely enough to keep an arm or leg down when needed.
The box is indeed inconspicuous, completely unbranded other than the nondescript shop name on the shipping label. He hides it in his room anyways, scratching out the label with a pen like they’re supposed to when they recycle anything addressed to them.
It waits until after their shoot for the new comeback album photobook. They’re in a cavernous warehouse that houses the sets and Minho is holding onto the back of Jisung’s pants while they wait for solo sets because Jisung cannot help himself from looking up at the roof with big worried eyes.
Ceiling height is a big source of worry now, for both of them. Minho regrets bringing up the floating off into the stratosphere thing sometimes, but honestly he prefers Jisung being worried about it proactively instead of them figuring it out as he drifts into orbit. Plus this way he gets to have his hands on or near Jisung as much as their schedules allow, which is pretty nice.
He slaps Jisung’s ass hard enough for his hand to sting when it’s Jisung’s turn to go pose, and Jisung shouts his complaints but walks off to the set without issue. He poses without issue too, a moody pout on as he follows the photographer’s instructions.
Minho keeps an eye on him the entire time, purely for safety reasons.
He dumps the contents of the box into a bag when they get home, stupid late but not late enough to delay this any longer. He grabs a screwdriver and the stud finder that Jeongin bought when he wanted to set up wall-mounted shelves for his hideous shoe collection, and makes his way to Jisung’s room as inconspicuously as possible.
He leaves Jisung to explore the cuffs, letting him figuring out how to take them on and off. He picked ones that are easy enough to do one handed, just threading a clasp through the two D-rings keeping the thing secure. Instead he’s busy finding a stud and then muscling the screws for the mounts through so he can create a rope system for Jisung to pull himself down.
There’s probably a better way to go about it, but a length of rope, knotted at regular intervals to give Jisung a better grip, is the best and most inconspicuous thing he could come up with.
“What do I do with this one?” Jisung asks about the neck cuff, and honestly it’s only there because the style of cuff Minho wanted didn’t come without it. “What is it even for?”
“Some people also just like pressure on their necks. Erotic asphyxiation and all that.” Minho replies, and grins as Jisung wrinkles his nose at the piece of leather in his hands. He doesn’t toss it away in disgust, simply stares at it with a frown. Stares at it for a good long while, Jisung still looking at it when Minho checks back on him two screws later.
Minho isn’t into that stuff personally, he likes control and dying a little by someone else’s hand does not really feel like being in control. Jisung evidently does not either, because he’s starting to float up by the third screw. The cuff falls from his hand onto the floor as he lifts off the ground, the little clang of the metal rings getting Minho to turn from the wall.
Well, there’s no better time to try and see if his idea has merit. He snatches the first of the smaller cuffs he sees off the floor and wraps it around Jisung’s ankle, clipping the strap through the rings smoothly and then dragging Jisung like a low-flying balloon so he can hook another strap around the foot of his bed.
It’s not perfect, but it at least keeps Jisung upright as he sways in the air, hands slapping against the wall for support.
“You can use the other set to anchor your arm down and that should at least keep you close to the mattress.” Minho explains, leaving Jisung to hover as he starts tying knots into his climbing rope system. With Jisung’s brand new weighted blanket that is already spread across the bed, it should keep him either on the bed or pretty damn close.
“Is that so I can climb down?” Jisung asks, feet now touching the mattress again as he watches Minho makes the final knots.
“Mm.” Minho hums in agreement. “So you don’t need to call me when I’m asleep as much.”
Jisung is seated on his bed again when Minho finally finishes, and he moves the strap he tied earlier to the leg next to the wall so Jisung can hide it a little easier. Jisung, meanwhile, struggles to clip the other set together.
“How are you so good at this?” Jisung complains as he ties the strap to the leg by his nightstand, a diagonal going to hold him down a little bit easier.
“You’ll get better with time.” Minho says cryptically, loving the mixture of shock and curiosity that crosses Jisung’s face. He’s actually really good with the closures primarily because of that one time he tried to leash train Doongie and had to get really quick about assembling everything lest he get mauled.
It’s funnier if Jisung thinks he’s some sort of prolific kink expert though. It’s a rush through his whole body each time, and he doesn’t think about the implications of that. He does think about Jisung’s cute little blush as he gets back to doing and undoing the wrist strap as practice.
His plan works wonders, he doesn’t get called in the middle of the night at all anymore and it’s amazing what being able to get his minimum five hours of sleep is like. It also helps Jisung, being sleep deprived caused even more anxiety.
There’s never no anxiety with Jisung though and Minho is still watching him during schedules, an eye out for hair starting to lift up. They’ve also learned that Jisung can technically pull himself down too, it’s like a bicep curl but backwards, and Minho will find him sometimes with a death grip onto heavy furniture to stay in place.
It is just easier to trick someone into sitting on his lap or hugging him or just looking pleadingly in Minho’s direction, who will drop everything and splay himself across Jisung. Though that happens only if Minho hasn’t caught the floating before Jisung and slapped his ass to get his mind off things. Minho will also tell Jisung something random – a mental puzzle or a theory about the anime they’re watching. Sometimes he just threatens Hyunjin for fun, because Jisung seems to enjoy that too.
There are a lot of things that can redirect Jisung’s attention really; as long as he does something loud enough for Jisung to hear, Jisung is watching him. And Minho is more than happy to perform.
The comeback is approaching pretty quickly too, and with that comes all of Jisung’s fears about how the album will be received. It does pose a problem when Minho has to rescue Jisung from one of the Studio Choom green rooms, an impressive feat because the place is crawling with people but Jisung always manages to squirrel himself away in a quiet corner for his anxiety attacks.
Minho has to walk around for a while to find the particular room he hid himself in. Once in he decides to grab him by the rip in his baggy jeans, a mistake revealed as the cotton just tears up to the seam and down past Jisung’s knee when Minho steps down from the chair.
This only panics Jisung more, because their stage outfits are expensive even if they’re apparently made of crepe paper. Minho glares at the dangling fabric for a moment, reassessing his plan, before he gets back on the wobbly folding chair and reaches past the torn denim to pull Jisung down by the back of his knee.
They stylists don’t love it when Jisung comes back to the group with his jeans half torn, destroying stage outfits is usually more of a Minho move and he’s not owning up to this one. They can’t really do anything but mutter a bunch and try to make it look passable, since they didn’t bring backup pants that fit Jisung. Apparently that involves just cutting the jeans into shorts, because the ‘artfully tattered’ look doesn’t work well when there’s something actually tattered in there.
Jisung is on the sound stage a few minutes later, in newly made shorts and a change of shoes to make it work, and they get through recording the multiple takes with minimal fuss.
Minho learns to grab Jisung by limbs from then on, especially when he pops a belt loop on Jisung’s favorite pants because apparently it’s stitches are not designed to withstand the entire bodyweight of an adult man. Jisung gets it repaired by the stylists at some point, getting a comment about he needs to be gentler on his clothes that he repeats to Minho with a glare.
It’s a learning curve for them both, Minho figuring out how not to destroy everything Jisung wears, and Jisung starting to get a sense for his own tells and doing his anxiety management preemptively. Especially when they move to the back stages and greenrooms with annoyingly high ceilings and Minho is frequently busy trying not to think about whatever precarious ass perch he’s climbing to reach Jisung.
He doesn't love being off the ground either, and understands why Jisung always panics when he realizes he’s starting to float. The one time Jisung made it four meters in the goddamn air was trying for both of them. Minho was absolutely convinced that he was going to crash and die when his table-ottoman-chair tower inevitably collapsed.
It didn’t, but it was a fucking pain to guide Jisung down it and he didn’t care if he ripped anything along the way. The fact that he didn’t let his vertigo get to him is commendable enough.