Into the Hornet's Nest

4

          Minho is watching the crews work on the house, sitting on the roof of his truck and sipping his large iced tea he got from the fountain of Han's store. He had expected a bright smile and a small wave when the door chimed, but instead he was met with a grouchy older woman who just glared at him as he bowed politely. He may or may not have texted Han as he filled his cup, asking what he was up to today since last night had been far more enjoyable than Minho had anticipated. He already recognized the sweet vibe of Han, and knew that befriending him seemed like a good thing to do. After last night, though, he already feels much closer to the boy than he wanted to in such a short time. It almost scares him. Almost.
          Minho responds to Han's offer to hang out within the hour, sipping his tea and typing out that he's free as soon as Han is. He may or may not add a smiley face at the end of the message. Maybe a heart, but maybe he deletes it before sending the message. He hops down from the roof onto the bed of the truck, careful not to spill his beloved tea and makes his way to the driver side door. He calls out to the crews outside that he will return shortly, a few workers nodding and waving a quaint goodbye for now. Before Han even responds to him, he is already turning out of his driveway and heading in the direction of the store to pick up some snacks for the two of them to share. Minho can't wait until he can use the fridge and pantry after everything is cleaned up, he wants to have Han come in and let Minho cook for him when he gets off of work. 

          In a platonic way, of course.

          After chucking in random sweets he hopes Han enjoys and some other savory options, he leaves the store with a large bag of food and a vibrating phone.
          "Han Jisung," Minho hums happily into the phone, sliding into the truck and setting the bag on the passenger side floor. "Are you ready?"
          "I'm ready for you." Han muses, a sweet innocence dripping through the speaker of Minho's phone. It makes him want to throw it into the windshield, but he doesn't. Minho hums in confirmation, wanting to tease the boy for wording it that way but suddenly worrying that he may never speak that way to him again if he does. Minho clicks his seatbelt, telling Han he will be there soon and hanging up as he shifts into gear. He doesn't want to seem overbearing, but he supposes Han would tell him if he truly wasn't free or willing. He rolls his windows down as he drives, fresh grass making his spirits lift out of the doubt and into the excitement of meeting up with Han. Of Han coming to see his project, of Han just existing with him while they wait for the workers to leave for the day. It's the small things, really, and he's glad that Han doesn't mind that their outings are relatively boring compared to the fun Minho assumes he must have with his other friends. Maybe Han could bring some of them over when the house is done, he thinks, it would be nice to have a small celebration. That's a bit away, though. Minho frowns at the possibility of Han and him falling out before the house is finished.

           Han is standing by the small mailbox when Minho pulls up this time, leaving the end of the driveway to the white house, hopping in and nearly crushing the snacks. Once he notices them, he lifts the bag into his lap and looks through it. It makes him smile, asking if he can have a bag of gummy bears. Minho nods, muttering that he can have his pick of anything in the bag. Han feels a bit spoiled, but he thanks him anyway, eagerly opening the bag while Minho pulls away from the house.
          "Going to the house?" Han asks, buckling himself in and popping a few gummies into his mouth. Minho can't help but notice the way Han's feet are pointed in on themselves, pressing his thighs together to hold the bag of food. Minho returns his gaze to the road and nods while the turn signal clicks at them. Han had noticed him looking at the bag, taking out two gummy bears and pinching them between his pointer finger and thumb. Han leans dramatically into Minho's side of the cabin, lifting his hand to the boy's mouth and chuckling as he flinches. Han watches Minho pull his head back enough to process the food he is being offered, glancing at Han who looks at him with an expectant expression. Mid-turn, Minho leans forward again to gently wrap his lips over the food, tilting his head back enough to toss them into his own mouth. Han chuckles at the action, fishing for more gummies. When he sees Minho no longer chewing, he repeats the offer, Minho side eyeing him with a crooked half-smile of amusement. He opens his mouth, Han squeezing the gummies a bit too hard as Minho leans forward, causing them to hit against the back of Minho's throat. Minho breaks into coughs, his laughter doing nothing to help his breathing. Han is in tears beside him, his head rolled over the side of his seat and his eyes screwed shut with a hand clutching his stomach. The sight only makes Minho laugh harder, his laugh much quieter than Han's but shaking his shoulders nonetheless. Han begins his apologies through struggling breaths, falling back into laughter before he can even finish saying it. Minho reaches over and gently slaps Han's chest with the back of his hand as punishment for making him nearly choke. The action only makes Han laugh harder, no sound coming from him at this point. Minho smiles and shakes his head.

          Minho noticed how quiet Han got after that, seeming to know the way and anticipating every turn. Minho didn't think much of it at the time, considering how long Han has lived in the area. When Han had turned away from him when they turned into the driveway had him concerned, though; the quiet air laced itself with the sadness seeming to radiate off of Han's abnormally silent demeanor. He watched how Han began to shift in his seat the closer they got to the house, how as soon as he saw it his face seemed to fall even more. Minho wants to ask him about it, now that they are sitting on the roof of the truck. Each of them have one leg hanging over the sides, sitting remarkably close so neither one of them falls off. Han is looking at the house while mindlessly bringing gummies to his lips, chewing slowly while in thought. His eyebrows are furrowed together and Minho watches as he breathes out a sad chuckle. "This used to be my house," Han says, looking down and bringing another sweet to his lips. Minho gives him a sympathetic look, not entirely sure how to comfort him. "I spent most of my life in it. I moved in with my grandparents when I turned fourteen." Han explains, gesturing to a rotting wood and rope swing on a tree. "I'm shocked that's still there. I have baby photos of me on that thing." He chuckles, spirits a bit lifted by reliving the nostalgia running through him. "I didn't mean to upset you..." Minho lingers on the apology, not wanting to dig up any memories Han may want to avoid. Han shakes his head and waves his hand dismissively. "I moved out when my parents split up. I'm just sad to see it so broken and empty." Han pouts, flicking his eyes over to Minho's face. Minho nods, thinking over the way Han described the house. Maybe he's using it as a symbol of himself, broken and empty two very human descriptions. Minho pauses, trying to think of a way to respond that tells Han he understands without being too obvious. Maybe he can offer Han the ability to help him fix it, he'd probably want to help restore his former home. 

          "Well," Minho says, looking at Han and gently leaning his shoulder into the shorter boy's. "I'm here to fix it up, aren't I?" He says this in a gentle tone, his voice hushed and his eyes locked on Han's. "Just needs a bit of love. Love and paint." Minho chuckles, his heart swelling as he watches Han smile at his words. Han nods, slowly coming back into his normal self by telling stories about his time at the house. He talks about the infamous wasp problem they always had, how often he has been stung and how being back here makes his skin itch at the thought of it. He talks about the attic and how often he would make blanket forts up there when he was younger and wanted to get away from the stress of growing up or the loud arguments between his parents. Minho loved the way he described the twinkling string lights that used to hang on the ceiling and how his parents put a telescope up there for him to look out the windows. Minho was swooning over his excitement while he talked about the bike trails he knows are in the back, how his mother used to keep a lavish garden and felt his heart shatter when he mentioned the way her roses withered as divorce became a realistic option for his parents. Minho makes a mental note to plant roses, to revamp the swing hanging from a tree and to hang lights in the attic. He promises himself to invite Han over to watch movies on his laptop in a blanket fort, swears to keep a telescope for the boy to look out and find parts of himself he feels may be missing. "Can I help you when the crews are done? You don't have to pay me or anything." Han chirps, leaning his head in front of Minho's spaced out gaze. Minho blinks, processing the puppy eyes in front of him and replaying the words in his head. Minho gives Han a soft smile, telling him that he's always welcome to help and be here. Han smiles wide, leaning forward just enough to make Minho's throat close. He squeezes his eyes shut, nervous to feel lips brushing against his own. Instead, he feels their noses brush together softly, Han rubbing them together three times in the most wholesome display of thanks Minho has ever witnessed. He peeks an eye open only after he feels the heat of Han move back into place, no longer leaning in front of him and the crinkling of the snack bag giving away that Han is clearly unbothered by the eskimo kiss. Minho blinks his eyes fully open in disbelief, the tips of his ears a bit red. They don't talk about it.

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