teach me to love┊ °❀ [ lee know x han ]

˚ · . 07

Minho slept like a rock that night. Which, he wasn't completely sure was beneficial or not, especially regarding the fact that he was wide awake at 10 AM. Usually, he took Sundays to sleep in late, relax, maybe watch a movie, but it was too early, it was throwing him off.

Alas, one can only lay in bed and stare at the ceiling for so long. Climbing out of bed, Minho chugged the rest of the room-temperature water that sat on his bedside table and relished in its lukewarm hydration. Eventually, he exited his room, into the empty living space, which was connected to a kitchen.

He grabbed himself a granola bar from the pantry and set himself down in a worn down, pale red armchair that lay adjacent to the couch. Gnawing on the granola bar, Minho's memory drifted back to the previous night.

Jisung and him had stayed on the call for a bit, not necessarily speaking, but embracing each other's presence while Minho let himself worry about the future. Maybe Jisung did too, Minho wouldn't know.

Apparently, his furrowed brows were a little too evident, for a voice rang out from beside him, entering the room. Minho's head turned up, washing his expression away as best as possible as his eyes met Chan, his roommate, the only roommate he actually enjoyed being around.

"Hey, Min, you good? Lookin' a little under the weather."

Minho almost rolled his eyes at the dad-like words Chan said, but he refrained himself, instead, pulling his lips into a half frown, debating whether it was worth it to immediately spill his entire life story.

"Uh– Yeah."

Is what he eventually settled with, though obviously it didn't seem like enough, because Chan was settling himself down on the couch near Minho, eyes swimming with what Minho deemed as worry.

He did feel a little bad for dragging Chan into this, though, it's not like he would name drop or anything, and it would all be hypothetical, of course. His concerns slowly faded as he met Chan's gaze, the man's hands folded in his lap, reminding him comically of a therapist.

"Are you sure? Wanna talk about it?" Chan cocked his head, furrowing his brows as he tried to read Minho's expression. Minho sucked in a breath, leaning back further into the plush of the chair, fingernails digging into the material at the armrests.

"Well, there is this one thing that I kind of need advice about," Minho began, and Chan's worried look was replaced with one of more 'I'm here, I'm listening,' and he inquired with a nod for Minho to continue.

Minho blinked a few times, debating on how to word it before diving straight in, "Okay so, hypothetically," – The hypothetically was very important, – "if you came up with a plan to lead a possibly homophobic person on, and it backfired and you're pretty sure that you're catching feelings, what would you do?"

Talking quickly, Minho eventually caught up with himself, feeling sick to his stomach at speaking the last part, finally admitting it outloud, rather. Because that's what it was, it was sickening, and it drove Minho insane even thinking about it.

If he thought it was bad thinking about it, he was in for it now, because talking about it was a whole new level. Chan nodded his head for a few seconds, which had Minho gnawing on his bottom lip, attempting to seem composed.

"Okay, that was definitely not what I was expecting," Chan let out a small chuckle, though he met Minho's eyes with understanding, "What was the plan originally?"

"Well, I— Shit— The plan was to kind of seduce him..?" Minho cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed at the reality of it all, "Um, just so y'know, after getting him attached or whatever, you'd just leave him."