Stray Kids one shots || honeyndwild

Chan | hoodie

"Take it off," you're trying to act cool, holding the laughter in when you notice how big his eyes become when the meaning of the words finally settles into his mind.

"What?"

"Take it o-off!" You fail unconditionally when he raises his arms to his chest, closing it from your reach.

"What the–"

"Oh, God..." And you can't bear it anymore. A smile finally climbing on your lips, laughter leaving your body, bright and cheerful, the one that makes him even more confused.

"Y/n, what the heck is wrong with you?"

You came to his flat without an invitation, as always. One moment you were in your bed, crumbling your sheets with your numb and tired body. But the moment later you just sprinted down the street, the boredom getting on your heels, Chan being the only distraction that could make you feel less blue.

He met you at his doorway, his confusion standing right next to him, staring at you with disgust. You stuck your tongue to her when you hugged him "hello", tightening your arms around his torso, finally taking in your favourite smell of his aftershave. But then he returned back to work, and you were left on his big cold couch, mindlessly switching through channels, the boredom sticking to your legs like glue. And when you finally washed all of his forgotten dirty dishes and rearranged the books on his long wooden shelves you knew you couldn't bear it any more without his attention. That's why you came to him so boldly and asked what you've asked.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Chan glances quickly at you, hands still on his chest, the monitor of his computer highlighting his nose and lips, making them seem bigger.

"I just wanted to try it on," you shrug, trying to make it sound as innocent as possible. Because, yeah, you did want to try it, his big black hoodie. Why? You didn't know the answer to this question. No, actually, you had some suspicions. But you weren't ready to admit them yet.

"Want to try my hoodie? Why?" He stares at you, glares at you from under his messy bangs. And it gets on your nerves, his attentive, almost piercing through you eyes.

"I–" you know you need to save yourself, to not let him suspect anything. "I wanted to buy the same one. But it costs a lot, and– I just wanted to make sure I'll like it when I'll wear it."

You're sure you said everything right. You know you were convincing. But still, the look in his eyes makes you feel on edge. Something swims in there. Something that reminds you of mockery. And a bit of admiration. Confusion, of course, but also tenderness. And you can't understand why your request makes him feel like this. Does he also–

Chan sighs. He tries not to smile too, but, of course, he fails, a shy grin appearing on his lips when his fingers clutch to the hem of his hoodie. "You're such a dork," he whispers before quickly taking the hoodie off, the light from his computer and the lamp on the table reflecting on his bare chest. And from that moment you can't look at him because no, it wasn't what you were expecting to see when you asked him to take it off. Could he– Could he maybe warn you before?!

"But you still love me," you mumble, trying to hide the embarrassment. Snatching the hoodie from his hands, you rush off the room to the hallway, the soft, still warm material gently hugging your fingers. Of course, you can't hear his quiet "yeah, I do" in return.

You stare at the mirror, the black big hoodie is already on. Loose in your shoulders, it hugs your body like a soft warm cloud. The smell of his body mist mixes with yours, making your head spin with euphoria. Yes, the hoodie fits you perfectly. Maybe, you need to buy it one size smaller to make it a bit shorter, but the material, the quality–

"Y/n."

You notice him instantly, his dark figure, leaning on the door frame behind you. It surprises you, his still messed up hair, his bare chest and burning ears. You can't understand why he still doesn't wear anything. You can't understand why he stares at you like this. You can't understand why his flat is so dark, and why suddenly you feel so hot. And you snap back at him a little too harshly, nervousness taking control over your body, "What?"

"It's just–" Chan sighs, his hand immediately rushing to his ear, touching it mindlessly. "Fuck, you look too huggable."

"I'm–" it takes you aback, his words. "Thank you?–"

But then he comes closer. And then his chest presses to your back. And then his hands hesitantly slide to your waist. And then you lose them all, the words you had in store before he came.

He becomes comfortable as suddenly as he came. Suddenly, he steps a bit closer, tightens his hands around you a bit stronger, rests his chin on your shoulder, staring down to the floor. You try to fight the urge to run your fingers up his arms, noticing the shivers dancing on his skin. The thought of him being cold makes you sad. "Chan?" Your whisper comes out strange as if it's not you who's talking, and you gulp the lump in your throat, hoping your voice will return to you. "Chan, can you let me go for a second?"

His hands weaken immediately. He tries to move away, his hands suddenly shaking, fear running up and down his spine. But you catch him there, at the very edge, and you pull him back, saving him from falling into that abyss of doubt. It takes you one second to turn around to face him. Another second to pull him closer by his neck. And then one second more to hug him as tightly as possible.

"I–" the words don't want to leave your mouth, and you push them with all the strength you have, knowing pretty well, you need to keep talking. "I like the hoodie. Will definitely buy it lat–"

"And I like you."