Into the Hornet's Nest

14

          Morning comes and the boys are still attached at the hip. Han has shamelessly used Minho as a pillow all night, Minho's arms wrapped around him to the best of his ability in the position. Han had woken up a while ago, staring at Minho's peaceful face while he continued to rest. Something in his heart had jolted painfully at the memory of last night, how sweetly Minho had moved them out of the situation and how bad Han felt about it all. He feels guilty for being the one to both start and end it all, feeling even worse about feeling like their first kiss should have happened differently. He regrets the prior almost kisses remaining as almosts, feeling like they somehow would have meant more in those small moments of wanting nothing else only to be shoved away. It's not as if he hadn't enjoyed the kiss, Han had loved it. It felt right, but he also feels like it had been too rushed. Sure, it was a long time coming; Han just worries that Minho may think it had been purely out of lust rather than anything else. Well, in a lot of ways, it was. It happened because Han got hazy from the want coursing through him. He had wanted so much all at once, having wanted a lot of things for nearly as long as he's known Minho and never acting on it. He feels guilty about wishing their first kiss had been softer, filled with sweet meanings rather than as a stepping stone to skip over on the way to fucking. It had gotten stuck in Han's mind last night, making him stop everything and partially making him wish he could go back in time and change things. He hates that it was him who led so roughly, that it was him who had responded so heavily to the small kisses on his body that normally could have otherwise been sweet or even jokingly pushed away. So, Han had woken up and stared at Minho with his mind running in loops about it all. Tears prick at his eyes, now that the boy is stirring awake slowly. He slowly removes himself from Minho, wiping the few tears that fall and sits on the side of the bed. He holds his head in his hands, hearing Minho shift around looking for the warmth he felt leave him. Han runs his hands through his hair, still feeling as if he's messed everything up in the span of one night. 

          "Hey," Minho says softly, his voice a bit gruff from the sleep still lingering. Han hates how worried he sounds, hates how gentle Minho can be and hates how it makes his heart flutter at his caring tone.
          "Minho," Han says firmly, Minho blinking through the shock of Han not calling him hyung. Minho sits up, knowing that something serious is about to happen. Minho's heart sinks, unsure if he can handle rejection this early in the morning. "I want to talk about it." Han states, turning to look over his shoulder at the messy haired, glossy eyed beauty behind him. He hates how their first kiss could have been in a moment like this, instead.
Minho nods, crawling over to sit beside Han on the edge of the bed and wrapping the blanket around their shoulders. Minho sits far enough away for him to properly look at Han, Han hating how easily he blushes as he feels the eyes on him, he wishes he could go back to when he didn't blush around him at all.
          "You talk, I'll listen. Tell me when you want me to respond." Minho says carefully, clearly feeling as if he's the one in trouble. It makes Han smile sadly, patting his knee twice in a sort of silent explanation that he isn't mad at him; he's mad at himself. After Minho returns the same sad smile, Han starts talking.
          "I want to tell you that you handled it perfectly, first of all." Han says, knocking his clothed shoulder against Minho's bare one gently as a thank you. "I'm sorry I stopped you, I just..." Han trails off, never having been so afraid of telling someone the truth before. Not even when his parents split and he had to tell them he didn't want to stay with either of them had him this anxious, knowing that the feelings inside of him are far from anything he's ever really felt and so strong that he has no choice but to explain them to the other. "Listen, hyung," Han tries to rephrase, Minho visibly relaxing a bit at the familiarity in the formality. "I'm not mad about what happened, I'm upset about how it happened." Han feels a bit silly saying this out loud, expecting to see confusion on Minho's face when he looks at him. Instead, he sees his eyebrows upturned and his lips pressed together, his head nodding gently. It makes Han feel a bit easier knowing that he at least partially feels the same. Han sighs. 

          "You wanted it to be..." Minho says after a pause in Han talking, not wanting to interrupt but wanting to show that he at least understands. "More gentle?" Minho asks, his tone suggesting he knows the feeling but not the word to use as an example. Han mulls it over for a moment, nodding and mumbling something along the lines of more or less, yeah. Minho nods, looking at Han with the same soft expression he had given Han last night. Han notices it, blushing furiously and pulling his eyes away to look nowhere else in particular, the two of them sitting in a heavy silence while they each wait for the other to talk again. Han finally breaks it.

          "Don't get me wrong, I liked it." Han says, face still red and eyes still turned away. "I just don't want you to think that it was only a 'heat of the moment' thing. I've wanted to do it, as I'm sure you know, I just got so lost in every and-" Han rambles nervously, tears threatening to spill over again at the outward expression of his guilt. Minho cuts him off by softly shushing him, noticing as the tears begin to run down the full cheeks of the boy beside him.
          "I know what you mean," Minho comforts, not wanting to watch Han force himself to finish the painful explanation. "You liked it, but you wanted it to happen differently. You feel bad because you started it even though you had an idea in your head of how you wanted it to go." Minho says, Han nodding along with every word and being thankful that Minho knew how to word it all. Minho knocks their shoulders together again, Han's mouth twitching up a bit now that he knows Minho actually knows what's running through his head. Minho leaves the faintest kiss on Han's damp cheek, Han almost not even feeling it until Minho did it again to his temple. Han smiles more genuinely at that, glad to not be hated and to have formed a sort of wordless pact to consider the next kiss as the first. It won't be forced or happen under intense circumstances next time, a weight lifting off of Han's chest. Minho lifts himself from the bed, clearing his throat quietly before pulling a shirt over himself.

          "Good morning," Minho says with a smile, Han grinning at the way he pretends like nothing had ever happened. "Breakfast?" Minho asks, tousseling Han's already messy hair and smiling when he hears Han chuckle while he wipes his tear stains away; starting the day fresh. Han just nods, standing and stretching. Minho quickly pokes his barely exposed stomach, Han exclaiming and bending his stomach away from the tickling sensation. Han reaches to poke Minho's stomach, Minho stepping back with a smirk on his face while Han's hand falls just short of touching him. They both take off into the hallway, laughing and evading the pokes of the other as a way to work up an appetite. They're back to their normal selves, the tension gone and the promise of a redo faintly settled in their minds; neither of them forcing interactions or talking about what happened for the rest of the day. 

---

Please know that if you read my fics, I automatically adore you ;)