Into the Hornet's Nest

12

             It has been nearly two weeks since Minho had spent the night at Han's. Something about the late night almost forced both of them into working more. Minho is convinced that the universe saw them so close and willed them apart, Minho's shipment coming in as soon as he had gotten home and Han getting called in to work doubles thanks to someone quitting that day. They've texted, each of them seeing the messages an hour after they are sent or so, the attempted conversations ending up choppy and delayed at best. For two weeks, Minho has been finishing the rooms of the house alone, sad he has no one to chase around whenever he paints something. He hates the way he wants Han here. He hates how lonely the house seems without him, and hates how little he's heard the boy's voice recently. Minho has been inadvertently forced into silence, not particularly used to talking to himself just to make sure he remembers how to speak. He's been cooking and eating alone, spending time in the attic alone. He's tried to pull his mind away from it all by playing games and failing when he reaches any part he wishes he had a second player for. He thinks about how badly he only wants one person to play the game with him.

          Now, as he's sitting on his bed in the actual bedroom he finished last week, he can't help but sigh sadly. He's glad he hasn't changed his background out of playful spite, staring hopelessly at his lock screen just for the sake of pretending the boy is beside him. He's sure he's gone off the deep end once he swears he hears the boy's voice. It sounds muffled, but he'd know it anywhere. He swears he's losing his mind, the voice stopping after a moment and reappearing again just before he hears the front door open.

           "Hyung!" Han calls, Minho scrambling out of bed and tripping over his feet as he rushes out of his room. He's glad he hadn't imagined it, Han standing in his uniform and looking disheveled from the bike ride here. Minho smiles widely, running up to him and lifting the boy off the ground in the tightest hug he swears he's ever given. He breathes in as much of Han as possible, so happy to hear Han's giggle at the realization he's essentially dangling and even happier to hear the familiar whine of embarrassment. The first time Han whines to be let go, Minho just squeezes him tighter, shutting the door with his fingertips and wiggling Han from side to side once he isn't concerned about bugs coming in. When Han whines again, he finally sets him down even though he desperately doesn't want to.
           "Are you free tomorrow?" Minho rushes out, still standing close to Han and still finding ways to touch him and make sure he's real. Han nods, Minho's heart skipping. "Staying here?" He asks hopefully, Han faking his thought and nodding once Minho jokingly shakes his shoulders to rush his already decided answer. Minho holds in his squeal of excitement, once again taking Han's arm and bringing him around to the newest developments of the house.

           "You work fast." Han praises once they find themselves in Minho's room. Han sits on the bed, exactly where Minho has just been wishing he would be. Something about it makes Minho convinced any and every god had gotten annoyed at his begging for Han. He's smug about it, having gotten his way.
           "Nothing else to do when you aren't here," Minho admits, feeling his cheeks warm up a bit at the blatant guilt of not having any other friends. Han gives him a pout, tapping the bed for Minho to sit beside him. Minho doesn't have to think twice, sitting so their thighs touch and for once feeling no hesitation about it. Han still blushes at the contact, Minho glad to see that much hasn't changed.
           "I missed you," Han says quietly, poking Minho's knee through the hole in his jeans. Han seems so shy about it that he misses Minho melting at the words, his eyes fixated on where he's toying with the frayed strings of Minho's pants. Minho nudges Han's head with his own, brushing their noses together three times as soon as Han looks up at him. They both smile, knowing that that was Minho admitting he felt the same. How much he agreed, Minho would never admit; he can only hope Han had done some of the same embarrassing things. He's never going to ask, though.
         Minho asks Han if he wants to shower and change, pointing out which clothes are in what drawer once Han nods happily. He figures he can let the boy pick his own clothes this time, not wanting to abuse his power this time. He's far too happy just to have Han in the house. Minho confesses to having both showers functioning, the two of them parting ways after picking out clothes to lounge around in for the remainder of the night. Each of them are silently hoping the other is willing to stay awake to make the time last, neither one wanting to admit that they're unsure about the next time this can happen.

          Upon exiting the shower, something feels a bit different. Minho brushes it off at first, convincing himself that it's probably just nerves considering he hasn't seen Han in a while. He lets himself dress, entering the hallway in just a muted blue shirt and his underwear. He doesn't think twice about it, considering the heat and the fact that this is his house, after all. He regrets nothing about the black boxer briefs whatsoever, feeling arguably more confident and maybe a bit hopeful about how Han may react. He'll never get tired of seeing the boy's eyes go wide. When he turns into his room, his own eyes are large. He breaks into a small laugh, seeing Han dressed exactly the same; the only difference being in the shade of blue they chose. Han laughs too, joking that one of them will have to change. Minho sits with him and ruffles his damp hair, Han shooing his hand and letting his laugh simmer into chuckles.

         After shamelessly crying over a movie together, Minho opting for silent tears while Han shakes in his pile of blankets, the boy's find themselves in the kitchen. Neither admit to loving how domestic they've become, Han wrapping his arms around Minho and resting his chin on his shoulder as he stirs the pot of food. Minho considers it a plot for him to steal a taste, indulging Han by lifting the wooden spoon up over his shoulder for him to sip from. Han does so happily, shocking Minho when he doesn't let go after getting his wish. Instead, Han sighs happily, Minho feeling his face heat up in response.

          They eat together quietly, Han filling Minho in on the chaos of working his doubles and teasing him with 'if you wanted to see me you should have stopped by the store.' Minho blushes then, telling him he hadn't been that desperate despite knowing that he had to fight the urge to go every day. He didn't want to seem weirdly over attached, so he forced himself home and not much anywhere else. He listens to Han tell him about the rude customers who weren't happy about only one worker being available and how he swears he didn't know whether to cry or yell at them, Minho getting angry at the people by proxy. Minho tells Han to call him next time, earning him a big smile and a laugh of 'okay.'

---

This fic is the only fic I've written that made me uwu smh