Into the Hornet's Nest

5

          For the past week Han has been biking to the house after his shift much to Minho's dismay. No matter how much he offers to drive him, Han refuses and tells him every time that he used to ride the distance regularly as a child and not to worry about him. Today is no different, Minho happily setting up the cans of paint in the taped off room, his face and pants already smudged with different shades of neutral colors from the other two rooms he's worked on alone. From down the hall, he hears the front door creak open, calling out for Han to find him in the soon to be bedroom. Han pops his head into the doorway, smiling at how messy Minho is as he pours the paint into the small pan for rollers. Minho smiles up at him, nodding for him to enter and handing him a roller as he does. He's glad to see that Han changed after being told paint would be involved, his attire much more casual than normal. He is dressed in an already stained shirt, Han tells him it's the shirt he uses to dye his own hair. Minho gives him an impressed look, complimenting the silver hair he apparently did himself. Han bubbles at the compliment, giggling softly while starting to slather paint onto the walls.
          "Han Jisung," Minho says, Han looking over to him while continuing to paint. Han hums to tell him he's listening, Minho still concentrated on the off-white paint spreading beneath his roller. Minho looks over at him, shrugging. "I just like the way it sounds." Minho admits, Han flushing and turning his attention back to the task at hand. Minho's speaker comes alive, making Han jump at the sudden noise. Both boys hum and sway to the songs as they play, realizing how similar their music tastes are. Something about it is comforting, Han looking over to the rocking hips of a very distracted Minho. Han smirks, quietly setting his roller into the bin and dipping his thumb into the pooling paint. He lurks behind Minho, the music masking his steps.
          "Minho hyung," Han says sweetly, Minho turning to face him with a small smile. Han quickly swipes his thumb over Minho's forehead, whispering 'Simba' before taking off down the hall. Minho runs after him, dropping his roller onto the plastic covered floor and dunking his whole hand into the paint as he passes it. Minho is glad for his strong legs, easily keeping eyes on Han throughout the house no matter how many doors he ducks behind. He can hear Han scream laughing as they run, Minho calling out for him to come closer and see what happens. Han slams the bathroom door behind him, leaning his weight against it. 

           "Han Jisung, open up and I'll give you a head start." Minho coos to the closed door, Han opening it just enough to look through the crack. Minho is smiling genuinely at him, his paint covered hand hidden by the still closed door. Han squints at him, opening it slowly. Minho tries his best to hide his smirk, grabbing Han's face with the messy hand. He watches as Han's cheeks squish beneath his fingers, paint memorializing where his hand is half pressed to Han's throat. The younger boy seems half afraid and half upset about the amount of paint on his face, his squished lips forming a pathetic looking pout. Minho chuckles deeply at the sight, leaning in closer and watching the way Han's eyes flutter shut in response. Minho blushes at how willing he seems for Minho to kiss him, letting him continue to hold him and feeling the way he ever so gently juts his lips out to meet him. However, kissing isn't the plan. Minho smirks at the so pliant version of Han, leaning forward and rubbing their noses together three times. An almost too soft whine escapes Han, the boy apparently unable to hide his disappointment. Minho lets him go, walking back to the room with a confident stride that Han doesn't see. When he lets his eyes open, he frowns at the lack of Minho's presence, sighing heavily and sulking back to the room as well. He thinks about wiping the paint off before it dries and gets itchy, but he decides to leave it as a reminder of how nice it felt to be held so carelessly by the non-touchy elder. Han pretends not to notice the way he occasionally smirks at it throughout the rest of the day. Minho acts like he doesn't know Han can see him, loving the avoidant eyes and the way he subconsciously shifts under his gaze. Minho takes pity on him once the paint starts to flake and make him itch, helping him remove it with a warm washcloth and pretending to not see the longing stare aimed at his lips. Han is glad to be spared the embarrassment.