Into the Hornet's Nest

8

          Minho wakes up much earlier than he intends to, light from the windows bleeding into the fort. He smiles rather than his usual groan of annoyance, glad that there are still blankets up. He hadn't dreamt any of what happened, he hadn't dreamt about the way Han and him had fallen asleep on the same bed. Han. Minho lets his eyes adjust to the brightness, expecting to see the back of Han's head. Much to his happiness, he sees Han facing him, the hood of Minho's sweater pulled over his head. Han's face is half hidden by the blanket, the boy curled cutely close to Minho. Minho smiles lazily, admiring the way Han's hair messily falls over his eyes and the way the blankets slowly rise and fall along with Han's soft breathing. Because Minho had woken up on his back, he shamelessly rolls to face Han's small form. He rests their foreheads together, Han gently stirring at the touch and letting a small sigh out of his parted lips. Minho considers counting Han's eyelashes to pass the time, considers making the boy breakfast for when he wakes up. He can't make himself move, though, too warm and comfortable like this to want to ever leave the bed.
          Minho doesn't know why he does it, sliding his arm to wrap over Han's thin waist and rub this thumb over the soft fabric of his favorite hoodie. He internally coos at how loosely it fits Han, shutting his eyes to enjoy the morning closeness. It almost shocks him when Han's hand finds his shirt, gently holding onto the bunched fabric falling off his chest. It makes Minho blush more than anything else, desperately wanting Han to wake up to them like this. He'd love to pretend to be sleeping, able to see his genuine reaction. He feels Han wriggle his way closer to his chest, nuzzling his head under Minho's chin. Minho is afraid his pounding heart may wake Han up, at this point. Still, Minho tightens his grip around Han, his arm looping under the smaller boy's and his hand wrapping over the top of the small shoulder. Han seems content, another sleep filled sigh making its way to warm Minho's chest. Minho isn't sure why he is still smiling, nor why he decides to separate the two of them just enough to rub their noses together three times. He wonders why he brings his chin back to rest on the top of Han's head, leaving a small lingering kiss on the top of the hood before acting as if it hadn't happened. It feels right, he supposes. It would feel wrong if he didn't do it. 

          Luckily for Minho, he gets his wish. He hears a yawn come from Han, a moment of him coming to his senses before his body tenses. Minho considers pulling away, pretending to roll over or just hum and press his head back against his chest to tell him it's okay to be there. Instead, he lets Han gently move away. He stays close enough for Minho's arm to stay in place, Han inching himself up to Minho's face. Minho can feel his stare, trying his best not to smile and scare him off. He feels the familiar closeness of Han's face, the heart warming three swipes at his nose and the weight of Han's head making Minho's pillow dip a bit more. He can't help but smile.
          "Han Jisung," Minho says in his near gruff morning voice, the hand on Han's shoulder reaching up to remove the hood and lace his fingers in the soft hair at the nape of Han's neck. He feels the goosebumps form, Han remaining quiet. If Minho were to open his eyes, he's sure he'd find a very red Han. "You look so peaceful when you're curled against me." Minho muses, humming through a closed-mouth yawn. His fingers mindlessly rake up and down, occasionally twirling small tufts of Han's hair happily while he's sure Han is looking at him with wide eyes. Right now, he doesn't care. Han's hair is too soft, his body too warm. He could stay here forever.
          "I need to use the bathroom, hyung." Han almost whispers, Minho lazily opening his eyes. He was right, Han entirely flushed. Minho wants to be smug, wants to tease him. Their faces are so, so close. Their noses are practically touching, Han's eyes trained on the bit of fabric he's fiddling with from the neckline of Minho's shirt. Minho sighs, reluctant to let Han out of his grip so soon. He can tell Han doesn't really want to move away either, despite his apparent need for the bathroom. So, Minho decides to pull Han against him again, burying his face in the crook of Han's neck. He may or may not love the feeling of their chests being gently pressed together, love the way Han smells. He gets a bit greedy in his still half-asleep mind, moving his fingers out of Han's hair and holding his waist as he pushes himself to be practically flush against the younger. He can hear Han's breath hitch at the action, his shaky voice reminding him he needs to get out of bed. Minho grumbles into Han's neck, 'do you have to' making his lips ghost over the soft skin. Han nods, shifting a bit at the tickling sensation. Oh. Minho blushes. 

            "I'm sorry," Han says, a bit of panic laced in his soft tone. "It's just, it's the morning and-" Minho hushes him, absentmindedly planting a small kiss wherever his lips can reach. He thinks nothing of it until Han makes a small whimpering sound, Minho suddenly much more awake than he has been this entire time. Both boys stay completely still, Minho being the one to gently untangle himself and clear his throat. He leans onto his elbows, Han covering his face with the too-long arms of the hoodie. Minho rubs the rest of the sleep out of his eyes, one hand lifting to ruffle the soft silver hair in a much safer way. "I'm sorry," Han says, muffled by the thick fabric. Minho tuts at him, telling him he should've realized since he too, is a boy with male parts. It makes both of them chuckle, Han uncovering his face and adjusting the hoodie to cover himself as he swings his body to sit up. Minho may or may not be a bit upset at the coverage. He'd rather Han be comfortable, though. Minho sits up as well, trying to tame his messy hair and pretend like he isn't curious about anything beneath his hoodie. Han still makes no effort to move, Minho assuming he may be waiting to see if it goes away on its own. He knows that feeling, so he holds in how badly he wants to jokingly ask if he wants help with it. Jokingly, of course.
          "Are you going to stay here for the day?" Minho asks instead, Han seeming to think it over before nodding.
          "I just need to check in at home and get clothes." Han says through a yawn, Minho frowning a bit. He's come to adore the sight of Han in his clothes.
          "Just wear mine. You already have an affinity for them." Minho says, gesturing to the hoodie. Han smiles sheepishly, nodding and agreeing to wear his clothes after he showers. Minho fears he may pass out, knowing he will have full control over what the boy will wear. Minho may or may not get lost in thought about what clothes may be cutest on him, which clothes he could give him that would very obviously not belong to Han. So many options.