Stray Kids one shots #2 || honeyndwild

Chan - big hugs, long night talks and :] smile

Disclaimer: Alex = y/n (I'm just tired of writing from the second person)

"What if there's a ghost in the room?" the question slips from his tongue so unexpectedly, it surprises even him.

The candle on his table flickers strangely at that, dances a little even though there isn't any wind, and almost goes off.

"Chan, the hell??" A person next to him shrugs, "Why the heck you're telling me this right freaking now??"

"Would've you come here if you'd known this, Alex-ssi?" Chan's smile is apologetic, with a pinch of guilt that instantly pinks the tips of his ears.

"Of course, not! Ya!" Alex whines loudly, leaning back on their chair. "I hate you, boy, I swear."

Chan mumbles quiet "prove it" and then chuckles, receiving another kick to his shoulder. Heck, he's weak for this.

It's 3 am. It's goddamn 3 am. 2 hours since Alex came.

Chan still worries about those shirts he hastily threw in his wardrobe the moment he heard the doorbell ringing. The fact that the last time he vacuum-cleaned his tiny flat was a week ago also makes his guts twitch uncomfortably. That's why he can't stop checking the corners of the room for the little dusty balls and tries, secretly, wipe a tea stain on his desk that his old cup left this morning.

But the time flies by, and the food is being eaten, and the most ridiculous things are being discussed (like, "would you go to space if you could" or "do you know that bakery that makes INSANELY delicious buns" or "did you hear that sound in that song on the 1:08 minute?"), and his nerves slowly calm down.

Until he feels almost completely relaxed. Until it becomes hard to objectively judge about the amount of stares that is acceptable in this situation.

And of course, that objectivity goes to hell.

Chan tries not to be too obvious when he glances to the side. Alex sits there, almost relaxed in their chair, legs crossed, chest going up and down slowly.

Chan glances once again, this time checking their face, closed eyes and slightly blushed cheeks, and a little trembling hands. He tries to suppress the urge to peck the crease on their forehead. He was trying to do that the whole evening, but the more time passes, the more holding it in becomes unbearable.

Is it, objectively, acceptable to kiss the crease on their forehead?

Objectively...

Chan snorts at the ridiculousness of his thoughts. Maybe, he's gone crazy.

Maybe, Alex thinks the same way, because suddenly they stare back. "What?"

"Nothing," Chan wants to look away but can't.

"You're smiling."

"And?"

"Why?"

Chan blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind, "Because I'm happy."

"Happy 'cause you won't be alone if the ghost decides to show up again?"

"Shut up," his ears are burning, he's so sure of that.

Alex seems to enjoy it, because the way they smile mischievously, glancing at his ears a few times, speaks volumes. "Do you know your smile sometimes looks like that square parenthesis?"

Chan wants to stop laughing so hard but, again, he can't. "The hell?!"

"Come on!" Alex impatiently straightens up in their chair and slaps their hands together. "You know! That square thing on the keyboard. Like this—" They use their fingers to draw the said object in the air. Chan thinks for a second before grabbing those fingers and intertwining them with his. Sorry not sorry, but he's weak.

"Come here," he tugs on those fingers and almost coos at the confused expression on the face in front of him.

"What?"

"Come here, dummy."

The chair doesn't seem so comfy now when there's an added weight on Chan's laps. The back of the chair presses unpleasantly into his back, but the arms around his neck and the head on his shoulder makes it better.

The ghost stares at them from the corner of the room. He tries to get their attention once again, blows on the candle, makes it dance strangely, but the only thing two people on one freaking chair do is murmur in each other's mouths.

Disgusting, the ghost thinks and floats to the kitchen.