No Homo

Chapter 7 - You Just had to Wear Skinny Jeans, Didn't You?

Minho quickly caught Thomas around the middle, his arms encircling the boy's waist to keep him from hitting the ground as his legs finally gave out from under him, unwilling to take the teen a step further. With a sigh of resignation, the boy abandoned any thoughts of guiding his friend into the house and, with a grunt of effort, heaved the brunette off the ground and managed to sling him over his shoulder. Thomas groaned weekly at the sudden motion, but didn't protest, tangling his fingers instinctually into the cloth of the back of his friend's shirt and Minho started up the steps.

Trying to take each step as gently as possible to avoid jostling the sick teen, the runner finally reached their front door and hurried inside, still not putting Thomas back on the ground until he'd made it to their shared bedroom. With uncharacteristic gentleness, Minho crouched down and lowered the boy slowly from his shoulder and onto the mattress, keeping movements smooth and careful as Thomas whimpered softly.

"Go to sleep." Minho commanded softly but firmly as Thomas struggled into a sitting position, looking disgruntled. He tried to move back, but the teen caught him by the shirt, wringing his long fingers into the dark cloth and pulling the boy back to him with a whine of protest.

"I'll be there in a minute." Minho assured, patting the hand that held him in place soothingly until Thomas finally released him once more, looking relieved but still not laying back down. Accepting that the boy wouldn't settle back until he'd come to bed, Minho turned away to give himself the illusion of privacy as he began to strip out of his day clothes, unwilling to sleep in the rough material or to search through their unpacked boxes to find pajamas this late at night.

He tried to his best to ignore the feeling of his friend's eyes upon him as he tugged his shirt over his head and began working on his loose fitting jeans, attempting to push away the feeling of self consciousness that bubbled up inside him as he shimmied out of the course garment and tossed it away. Thomas was drunk. That was the only reason he was staring. End of story.

"Min, I can't," Thomas began in a sleep slurred tone before pausing to let out a drawn out yawn then a small hiccup. "Can't sleep like thiss." He finished, sounding frustrated as the boy made his way back to the bed and tried to climb into the covers, only to be stopped by the kid's words.

"We don't have any other choice." Minho sighed, telling himself he didn't feel hurt despite the way his heart sat heavy in his chest and his stomach twisted in tight knots. Of course Thomas didn't want to sleep with him, they were just friends, why would he?

"What?" Thomas questioned, sounding confused as Minho turned to face him, scowling as he prepared to explain to the drunk boy how they couldn't afford two mattresses when the words died on his lips. Thomas was fiddling uselessly with the buttons on his flannel, looking frustrated and... Oh. He meant he couldn't sleep with clothes, not that he couldn't sleep with Minho.

Ignoring feelings of relief, the Korean watched his friend fight with the small, plastic buttons of the loose shirt for a few more minutes, knowing he should just keep his mouth shut but also acutely aware he wouldn't be getting any sleep unless Thomas somehow removed the annoying garments.

"Thomas, can't you just sleep with clothes for one night?" Minho pleaded weakly but his friend simply shook his head vigorously in denial and immediately went back to toying with the impossible buttons. Groaning in annoyance, the boy resigned himself to what he knew needed to be done and pushed himself up on his elbows before lifting himself reluctantly out of the bed.

"Let me help you, useless idiot." The dark eyed boy huffed resolutely, plopping down in front of Thomas and batting his useless hands away from the buttons.