Disclaimer:

Please note that no characters in this story have an any way, explicitly or implicitly, disclosed their respective orientations in real life. Fanfiction is meant to be exactly that- fiction. It is not our place to presume, assume, or expect anything written in a fictional story to be based in reality. It is therefore important and imperative that the reader take this into consideration before continuing.

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter 1

A bright stream of sun pierced its way through the room, creating a warm triangle of light gleaming off the chrome table. The room was too cool, as though the air conditioning was on full blast even though the Seoul summer heat had been fading for some weeks now. The room was empty, save for two young men, each sitting on the same side of the long, unwelcoming table.

Han's leg bounced incessantly beneath him, unable to contain his nervous energy. He had sat at this table plenty of times before, but never so alone. Usually, they had their whole team present to speak with the production executive's board. Now it was only he and Minho.

Han jolted as Minho's hand slipped beneath the table, resting on his bouncing leg. His long, strong fingers spread over Han's knee, his thumb gently sweeping back and forth. His grip was firm and calming, and Han instantly stilled, swallowing the hard lump in his throat.

"Breath, jagiya," Minho shushed. "It's going to be okay. I'm sure it's nothing."

Han smiled at the playful pet name, but it did not still his racing anxiety. He gazed at his best friend, drinking in his beautiful profile. It was so like Minho to be so calm—he was always one of the first to brush off the interference of the production team. He was good at pushing boundaries, unlike Han who still carried a child-like fear of the producers, just like he did when he was just a trainee. Even so many years later he still felt the pressure of their control over his every breath and move.

But Minho was here. Minho would protect him. He always did.

Han gave his elder a small smile and reached out a hand to grasp Minho's. They laced their fingers together, and the familiar comfort brought warmth and calm to Han. Minho squeezed his hand affectionately.

A door opened behind him, and Han reflexively pulled his hand away, though he instantly missed its warmth and reassurance.

"Annyeong haseyo," Minho and Han called respectfully, rising and bowing quickly to the trio of well-dressed men entering the room. The executives barely acknowledged them except for a few curt nods. Han immediately felt his worry intensify. The producers looked sterner and more callous than they normally did. It certainly did not seem like they had been called there for 'nothing'.

The men each took seats opposite of the young performers. The center of the three gave a small gesture indicating for Minho and Han to sit as well. Han swallowed. His throat was dry. He wanted to reach for Minho again, but he kept his hands placed securely in his lap. Minho, however, was sly. Beneath the table he slid his foot sideways, just barely touching the edge of Han's shoe as if to remind him "Shh, I'm right here. It's okay." Han glanced down gratefully. Minho always had his back.

"Good afternoon," the middle producer began, "Lee Minho and Han Jisung of Stray Kids," He spoke mechanically, as if ignoring that they were sitting there in front of him. Finally glancing up to make eye contact with the two younger men, he said, "Thank you for joining us. We have some concerns we need to discuss with you."

Minho and Han shared a brief glance at one another. No matter how Minho tried to reassure him, it was clear now that this was no friendly meeting. Han sat straight and forward, wanting to appear humble in front of the men who controlled their careers. Minho stayed slouched back slightly, his expression unreadable. Very seriously, the producer gazed at them with his fingers folded in front of him. "It is my unfortunate responsibility to inform you that some troubling details have come up regarding the two of you. We are therefore worried about your infringement in the continued success of Stray Kids."

Han felt his stomach sinking. Minho shifted in his seat. "Infringement? What do you—?"

"Don't pretend to be ignorant!" the producer to their left chided. Han startled at the outburst, completely taken aback. Even Minho sat back slightly, clearly affronted.

The middle producer waved a hand to calm his colleague, but it was clear the atmosphere in the room had changed. Han pressed his ankle against Minho's. Minho pressed back in response.

The middle producer took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. "Let us be direct," he began, "It is no secret that you two share a very… unique bond, correct?" His eyes landed expectantly on Han.

Han attempted to clear his parched throat. "Yes, sir," Han answered quietly. "Minho-hyung and I are best friends."

"Only friends?" The third producer finally spoke up, his gaze murky and off-putting.

Han glanced quickly at Minho, but his expression was still blank except for a tiny tensed muscle in his jaw. Unable to gauge his friends' thoughts, Han looked back at the producers and nodded. "Yes, sir…?"

The middle producer sighed, folding his arms and leaning back. "It is incumbent of us to remind you that your contracts prevent the distraction of…certain relationships—your responsibility is to remain faithful and focused to your craft and the success of your group."

Finally, Minho leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. Han could see in his profile that his expression had shifted from cautious curiosity to something more resembling anger. "Is the company prohibiting friendships, now, too?"

Han reached out and grasped Minho's forearm, willing him to calm down. There was no knowing the depth of consequence they might face if Minho lost his temper with these men. The producer to the left took notice of Minho's anger and leaned forward also.

"Friendships are of course encouraged, Mister Lee, but romantic relationships of a more… perverse nature have never been permitted."

Han straightened. "Romantic..?" he asked.

"Perverse…?" Minho echoed.

The middle producer looked at them both long and hard, his eyes cool and unforgiving. Finally, he said, "Speak honestly. Are you or are you not in a romantic relationship with each other?"

Han's jaw dropped. The full meaning of the producers' words soaked slowly through him, and he suddenly understood why they were there. He almost breathed a sigh of relief—this was all just a simple misunderstanding. Han withdrew his hand from Minho's arm—something Minho took notice of—and folded his hands respectfully. He tried to give a reassuring smile to the three men opposite of him.

"I think there has been some confusion," Han chuckled, "Minho and I are not romantically involved. We're just very close. We always have been."

"A confident answer from someone with little evidence to support his claim." the third producer grumbled. Han looked desperately at them, disbelieving that they were serious.

"Evidence?" Han tried to smile, but the darkened expressions across from him made it difficult. "Well… It's obvious that Minho and I are close. We often sit or stand near each other or pair up in twos for interviews and variety shows. We also hang out together in our off time." He shrugged, trying to appear confident, "Even STAY know we are close friends."

"That is the problem, you see," the middle producer explained, leaning forward, "One could argue that the 'evidence' of your friendship actually indicates something much… deeper."

"Are you aware of the 'Minsung' movement?" The first producer said snidely. "Thousands of videos, blog posts, commentary on your—" he gave air-quotes to mockingly say, "friendship."

Han felt Minho's ankle press firmly into his. Yes, they were aware of many STAY's inclination towards 'Minsung', or the Minho-and-Jisung connection. Sometimes he and Minho sat down and scrolled through the video edits on Tiktok or Instagram, laughing together at the creative and hilarious ways the fandom attempted to analyze their every movement as a pair. Most of the reactions were kind and genuine, praising how 'sweet' he and Minho were together, but a small percentage of observers had begun to speculate that their relationship was something more. Some believed he and Minho were dating, but again it had since become a sort of inside joke, even among the other members of Stray Kids. Han and Minho would often cuddle, flirt, or call each other pet names like 'jagiya', but it was never actually serious. Han couldn't believe the rumors had somehow progressed so far as to involve the producer's executive board.

Trying his best to remain composed, Han said, "Minsung is just a joke. Fandoms like to ship members together. It's not unusual." Minsung was just one of several pairings that STAY had adopted. There was also Hyunlix, Changlix, Chanlix—honestly Felix just got paired with everyone—but the point remained that all the members were often shipped together. It did not mean anything.

"Perhaps," the far-most producer grumbled, "but our concern is that you seem to fuel the fire a bit too much. Every video of you two together appears suspicious. You are often fondling each other, staring at another, even kissing." The producer gazed down at them with near disgust.

Han suddenly felt very small and frightened. It was no secret that he and Minho were affectionate toward one another, especially physically so. All the Stray Kids members were very touchy and physical. There was nothing unnatural about it. Han simply felt he craved physical touch, and Minho was equally comfortable sharing it. Sure, they cuddled often, sat or laid together during rest periods, and they often held hands—especially if one or both of them was feeling nervous before a show or during interviews. But these were all very innocent actions. Even the kisses they shared were remarkably chaste, like a peck on the top of the head. Only once Han had kissed Minho's neck for the purpose of a game, but even then, it was not intended to be funny, not romantic. Minho had even scolded him for it while all the other members looked on and laughed. It was all just for fun.

Feeling unexpectedly embarrassed, Han chewed his lip, unsure how to respond to the producer's accusation. It was Minho who finally spoke up this time: "Has it suddenly become unallowed to show physical affection between males?" he asked coldly. "Han and I are not the only members who do these things, and further yet Stray Kids is not the only group where members kiss or hug or cuddle." Han looked to his friend, but Minho only stared straight ahead.

"Watch your tone, boy." the first producer sneered. Minho clenched his fists.

"I'm just saying," Minho continued hotly, "If the other members are doing it too it seems unfair that Jisung and I are being singled out."

"Mister Lee, remember your place," the middle producer warned. Minho stayed very stern and still, but when he chanced a glance at Han's worried face he finally seemed to recoil slightly. The producers each exchanged guarded looks before the middle one said, "The crux of the issue is this: our company runs on the success and exposure of our idols. Popularity is both your greatest strength and your biggest downfall. You are the face of our company. You have cameras on you everywhere, at all times," he paused and looked at Han and Minho carefully. "Those cameras pick up things you may not even realize."

The leftmost producer picked up where the first one left off, his tone menacing: "Attention to Minsung has already become so out of hand that we've had to limit screentime with the two of you. Any footage we record of you has to be carefully analyzed or heavily edited because you both can't keep your hands off of each other."

The third producer nodded, his eyes fixed on Han and Minho. "Circling back to what we said about your contracts: the evidence is clearly not your favor. You are here because we are not fully convinced that you have not breached your contracts by engaging in illicit relationship activity. You are lucky we have given you this opportunity to dissuade us."

Han balked. So, they really believed he and Minho were romantically involved. These three men could terminate their careers in an instant. He and Minho could be turned out on the streets of Seoul without a second thought.

Han instinctually stretched a hand to rest on Minho's shoulder but then quickly recoiled, worrying the producers would read too much into the simple action. Instead, he stood and bowed quickly, addressing them as respectfully and humbly as he could. "Please, sir," he gasped, "There is no need for this. I can assure you, one-hundred-percent: Minho-hyung and I are not dating. We are not romantically connected in any way. We do care for each other deeply, we share a lot of things in common, but he is very much like a brother to me and nothing more."

He glanced down to Minho, expecting him to act in agreement, but instead Minho's gaze was unreadable. Their eyes locked. Han thought Minho would be proud of him for defending them, but instead his eyes looked far away and empty. Han did not have time to explore this unusual expression, as the producers drew his gaze away again.

"And what about your multiple various statements indicating otherwise?" the far one asked, "On a VLive in April you called Lee Minho your 'husband', and at a concert performance earlier in the year you referred to Lee Know as your 'girlfriend'."

"It's all just fan-service," Han said desperately, "We joke around because we know that STAY loves it, but none of it is real," he laughed lightly, turning to Minho, "It's just an act, right, Lino?"

Minho was staring ahead, making no effort at all to meet Han's gaze. The muscle in his jaw twitched again. "Right," he echoed. "It's just an act."

There was a deep, heavy pause. The cool air in the room suddenly felt stagnant, and Han felt he couldn't breathe very well. He sat back down while the producers silently deliberated. His knee resumed shaking, but this time Minho did not attempt to make any sort of connection.

After several suffocating minutes, the middle producer leaned forward in his seat, casting an ominous shadow that blocked any remaining warmth from the sunbeam through the window. "Very well," he said slowly, "If that is the case, then you both have a responsibility to your company and to your team members to prevent this infraction from developing any further momentum." He gazed at them intently. "From now on, you are to conduct yourselves in a manner that reflects respectfully upon the company and your team. Instead of spending so much time focusing on each other, you should concentrate your energies on your craft and on the continued success of Stray Kids."

"But we are focused on our craft," Minho interjected, "Our entire life is Stray Kids."

"Then you would do well to demonstrate that more clearly from now on," the far-right producer said. "Your dedication to this Minsung 'act' leaves us wondering if you truly are committed fully to your team, or if you are," his eyes narrowed, "Distracted."

Han shook his head, preparing to respond, but the middle producer raised a hand to silence him before he could speak. "Moving forward, you two are to conduct yourselves separately from one another. No more intimacy, hand holding, or anything else of that matter. Prove both to us and to your fanbase just how committed you are to your music. Keep in mind that you are supposed to be friends with all your team members, not just each other. From now on, there should be no more Minsung."

Han felt his chest constricting, as though he had just been dunked in icy water. He glanced at Minho, who also spared a look in his direction. His complexion looked paler, his almond eyes dim. Han could not believe what he was hearing: their friendship was being forcibly torn apart. For more than four years since their debut, Minho was his comfort. His safety. None of the other members knew how to calm him so well when his anxiety rose on the attack. No one stilled his racing thoughts like Minho did. This was cruel and unfair and yet… they had no choice. To be an Idol is to give up control. He had signed his life away to these men, and now they were exercising that horrible power to remove from him the one person he cared about most.

The middle producer stood, followed by the other two in turn. Minho and Han stood as well, moving robotically out of instinct. They bowed as the producers exited, leaving them once again in cool silence. Finally, they could look at one another. Blinking at the stinging in his eyes, Han ran his hands though his hair, letting them interlace behind his neck. Minho also looked distraught. He stood with his shoulders hunched, his hands stuffed firmly in his pockets.

Unable to stand it, Han faced his friend, already needing his comfort. "Linoring?"

Minho swallowed hard. Han watched his Adam's apple dip once, twice, three times before he finally answered. "Yeah?"

Han wanted to reach out for him, but Minho looked closed-off, his body partially turned away from Han. Was their separation already starting, immediately in this moment? Would he never be able to touch Minho again? To hug him? Biting his lip, Han asked, "What are we going to do?"

Minho sighed and rubbed his face, still careful not to look directly at Han. "We do what we have to do," he said matter-of-factly. "We have to stay away from each other. At least for a while."

Han felt his stomach sink even further. "How long, do you think?"

"Who knows?" Minho finally looked at him, heaving a heavy sigh.

Han felt he might truly start crying. Without thinking, he stepped forward and reached for Minho, seeking the reassurance of his touch—but tragically, Minho backed away. Han's hand dropped slowly, his eyes pleading, but Minho did not look up at him. He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the sun beam on the table.

Han bit his lip. Was this really it? He couldn't have even one final hug goodbye? "Linoring, please," he whispered sadly, "There's no one else here. No one is watching us."

But Minho did not look up. "That's the problem, Jisungie," he said so quietly Han almost couldn't hear him. "There will always be someone watching us."

And then he turned and exited the room, leaving Han hurting and alone.