Sleeping Habits [MinChan] (Completed)

Chapter 9

"Minho... we need to talk."

Minho stopped his movement to turn toward the open door. He put back the T-shirt he was taking off and looked at Chan.

"Right here?" He asked eyebrow raised, "Now?"

Chan looked around and took one step back. Right, the situation was awkward and the look Minho sent him didn't make it any better. Still, they had to talk. If he weakened now, he wouldn't be able to find the strength later on. He cleared his throat and nodded with this newfound conviction.

"Well, I thought... I think we really need to talk."

"Should we absolutely talk right now?" Minho answered to Chan's persistent look, "in the bathroom?" he emphasised the last word.

They stared stonily at each other, thoughts running through their heads. Even if they both knew they had to say something, none of them could form a proper sentence it seemed. After a while, Minho looked away and sighed.

"Okay, go to our room while I shower quickly. I'm here in... five minutes."

Chan started to protest, not very happy with the statement, "but..."

He knew Minho pretty well and five minutes could stretch to more than half an hour. If he got lucky. He probably never saw him go to the bathroom and go out in less than twenty minutes. Even if it was only to fix his hair or take a 'quick' shower.

"Five minutes I promise," Minho reaffirmed. "You can begin to get ready too."

Chan frowned but obeyed. He glanced once more to Minho and slowly went to the room. Unlike Minho suggested it, Chan didn't even try to get ready. Instead, he sat on the bed and waited. He couldn't stop himself from tapping his foot. Five minutes looked almost as long as the seven years he trained while he was waiting here alone. Worst, waiting for Minho to talk about such an embarrassing incident...

Today was a lucky day, it seemed. Five minutes later, indeed, the door slammed, Minho was here. Hair wet, but already half dressed. Chan almost pouted when he noticed and mentally slapped himself hard. Somehow, he spent the last minutes fantasizing about Minho's naked and wet body when he would walk in the room they shared... who said teenagers' bloody hormones died off past twenty? Even without doing anything Minho was messing up his mental state.

"Chan?" Minho called tentatively, not even using the usual honorific.

Chan came back to earth and shook his head to vanish the inappropriate images he had in mind.

"So?"

Minho did his best to hide how uncomfortable all this situation was and knowing full well his guilt and still unsure of the direction the discussion would take. He wasn't pleased at all with the idea and didn't want to talk too much, it wouldn't do any good. To hide his embarrassment, he took the towel he had in hand and put it unto his head to dry his hair as if their talk was just casual chitchat from any morning.

Chan looked at the dripping hair and followed a drop down to Minho's front shirt, leaving a clear strain. Lucky one. He gulped and decided it was time to go for the talk he wanted so much.

"Minho, I ..." Chan began and stopped himself when a weird fact came to his mind.

'I think I kind of like you in a maybe not appropriate way' he thought. Like ... more than a dongsaeng, more than a friend and way more than any close bandmate should. He closed his eyes and didn't notice the worried look Minho sent him when he came to sit next to him.

"I'm sorry about last night," he finally said when he managed to refrain his cheesy-dumb-unsuitable thoughts.

"Sorry? You? What for?"