Drabble Dump
Lu Han/Xiumin; PG; 186w.; Fluff
“I’m not sick.”
They both know Minseok is lying, what with his growing pile of used tissues and the fact that he couldn’t finish the statement without coughing up a lung. Luhan smiles almost mockingly.
“Sure.”
Minseok whines when he’s handed a tissue box and a bowl of soup.
“I don’ need hese. I’m perfectly healthy.”
“Right.” Luhan pulls the sheets up to his chin and steps away. “I’m going to make some tea.”
A weak ‘wait’ tops him in his tracks.
“Stay here.” Shaky hands move the soup to his nightstand and then turn to make sloppy grabbing motions. Fully endeared, Luhan slips off his slippers and hops into the bed, encircling his beloved with his arms, despite protests.
“You’re gonna get sick, idiot.”
“Shut up and let me hug you.”
He does
Minseok doesn’t laugh when Luhan catches the same cold a week later, but does make sure to use this to his advantage.
“I’m sick.” Luhan murmurs. “Take pity on me.”
“You wouldn’t be sick if you hadn’t kissed me so much last week.”
“But you were s cute.”
“…Just eat your soup.”
Chen/Xiumin; G; 542w.; Fluff
If you asked Minseok and Jongdae what their favorite movies were, they would always respond with Mulan. They aren’t sure what manages to draw them in, be it the story, the now-familiar setting, or merely the fact that it reminds them of their childhood. No matter the reason, they love it all the same.
They love this movie so much that when they manage to get a hold of a Mandarin dubbed version, they put it to good use. Whenever they have the time, they kick the other members out of the living room, pop up several bags of popcorn - the idol diet plan is hard on them both - and compile blankets and pillows on the love seat. As Minseok sorts the mound of snacks into a more manageable load, Jongdae creates the perfect nest and sets the DVD in their beloved Blu Ray. In less than half an hour they’re able to nestle into the the couch - and each other - stomachs and minds content.
On most occasions they sing along to every song, mouthing notable lines in Korean because they haven’t quite mastered the words in Mandarin. They laugh just as hard as they had when they were boys, sharing small smiles when Mulan and Shang get that much closer to each other
This night is no exception, or, at least, Jongdae doesn’t think it is. They’ve just returned from a long day of schedules and they’re all exhausted, but Jongdae insists he and Minseok stay up long enough to get in their weekly viewing. Somewhere between the popping of refreshments and settling into the haphazard fort, Minseok manages to perk up, a noticeable contrast to his boyfriend who seems about ready to pass out on the carpet
“Ready?” Minseok smiles softly at Jongdae, noting his drooping eyelids immediately.
Receiving a hum in response, he drags the younger into their usual mess of blankets and sets the popcorn on the coffee table, choosing to hold Jongdae rather than munch at the contents of the warm bowl. Minseok can tell Jongdae is sleepy when he forgets to sing along t Reflectio with him, but doesn’t comment until he feels familiar dark hair tickle his cheek.
“Is somebody getting tired?” his voice may be a bit sugar-coated, but he’d always been one to tease Jongdae
“Wh- no No. ’m perfectly awake.” He mumbles and when Minseok looks over, he can tell it’s taking everything he has to keep him eyes open.
Minseok can tell something is up when he’s the only one laughing at their favorite part, but he can’t bring himself to do anything but chuckle softly and kiss his forehead when he glances down to find the younger fast asleep on his shoulder.
With a small smile Minseok turns the the electronics off and carefully detaches the clingy vocalist. He considers bringing him back to his own room, but the risk of waking Zitao from his beauty sleep is one he does not want to take. He rearranges the couch as gently as he can and eventually settles back in, Jongdae draped halfway across his chest
When they awake the next morning, backs and necks aching and overwarm, they swear it’s the best sleep they’ve ever had
Chen/Xiumin feat. Suho; PG-13; 533w.; Angst/Fluff
A dull ache throbs from somewhere deep within Minseok’s chest at the scene before him and it makes it hard for him to breathe. He knows Jongdae and Joonmyeon are close - probably as close as he is to Luhan - but hearing the laughter normally reserved forhimself mixing with that of his… hi rival, dare he say, was hard for him to take. Dejected, he turns to talk to Kyungsoo, hoping the younger could take his mind off of this horrible feeling.
He avoids Jongdae that night, choosing instead to wallow alone in the hotel room while the others enjoy the nightlife of the foreign city. Minseok curses himself, however, when the younger man comes tumbling into the room, Joonmyeon in tow - o course e’d roomed with him. As the duo parts with a hug, he thinks he’s blown his only shot at wooing the younger man. With a hand covering his eyes he makes to leave the room.
“I… I need to get some fresh air.” His voice cracks before he can make it out the door
“Wait, Minseok.” His face flushes at the use of his full name. A hand catches his arm. “Did I do something wrong?” Minseok can’t bear to look back, knowing that just one look could cause him to endanger their friendship.
“No.” he responds weakly. “No, you’re perfect.”
Jongdae laughs
“Perfect? ’m no where near perfect, Min.”
Against his better judgement he turns around and takes in the twinkling eyes lined with worry. Pink lips twist into a soft smile and he feels his control slipping
“That’s the thing,” he whispers, gaze lingering on Jongdae’s mouth. “You’re perfect to me.”
“What are you saying?” The lips twist downwards.
“I think you’re perfect, Jongdae.” Minseok’s voice is shaking, but his eyes show his true confidence as they bore into the chocolate orbs opposite him
“Thanks?”
“No, I.” A small whine escapes. “I think you’r perfect.”
Brows furrow.
“I… Are you trying to say something, hyung?”
A sharp intake of breath.
“Be my boyfriend, Jongdae. I, I know I’m not as good as Joonmyeon and. And you may not like me as much as you do him, but I think you’re perfect - perfect fo me and maybe one day I’ll be as good of a hyung as J-“
His words get cut off by a pair of lips hitting his cheek. Minseok blinks
“Wha-“
“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” Jongdae’s grin is blinding. Its an image Minseok doubts he’ll ever erase from his mind.
“So, is that a yes?” He can only hope the eagerness in his voice goes unnoticed.
“Yes.” he mock exasperation in his voice tells him otherwise, but as soft lips connect with his own he can’t be bothered to care.
Later that night, as they curl themselves around each other on the cramped twin, Jongdae recalls something.
“Min.”
“Hm?”
“Do you really think I like Joonmyeon more than you?”
Pink paints his feature.
“I. You just spend so much time with him, I thought-“
“Rest assured I would never do anything like this with Joon.”
With the heat produced in the proceeding kiss, Minseok would hope not
Tao/Xiumin; PG; 286w.; Fluff
It’s Zitao’s idea to utilize the kitchen while the others are out, Minseok having wanted to stay nestled together on the sofa
“I want cake.” He’d whined.
“But it’ cold.” Minseok had replied, voice just as beseeching.
Yet, with the right amount of kisses and a few strategically timed whispers, they soon end up searching through the cabinets for the right ingredients. Or, rather, Minseok is forced to root through the pantry while Zitao sits on the counter with his laptop
“Yah, this was your idea. Come help.” Zitao merely waves his hand.
“Min, I’m searching for the perfect recipe, don’t rush me.”
It takes the pair nearly an hour to compile the correct items and even longer to narrow down their selection of recipes.
“Can we start now?” The elder can’t believe how young his own voice sounds. With a laugh, Zitao nods and so commences the beginning of the end.
They do well at first, managing to keep - most of - the eggshells from the batter and they swear at least half of their measurements match that of the chosen recipe - Zitao admits he may have added more than five times the recommended amount of sugar, but who’s counting? What really brings their confection to ruin is a promise from earlier, a promise that leaves Minseok with occupied hands and the sharp edge of the counter top digging into his back. Needless to say, the smal ding f the timer goes unheard and by the time they smell their mistake it’s already much too late to correct themselves.
Wufan decides not to ask questions when he returns to the sound of low giggling from the kitchen and the faint stench of burnt sugar.
Chanyeol/Baekhyun; PG; 578w.; Fluff
Three stockings hang from the mantle; Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Fluffy, the aptly named cat. In each rests a variety of treats - chocolate, candy canes, a bit of catnip - and the small things the men knew were too small to wrap, but insisted on buying for each other anyway, knowing he’d still love it, despite the size.
In fact, resting in Baekhyun’s sack is a small box - a small box from Tiffany’s. But it’s more than the ring inside of it. It’s a promise, a declaration of love, practically screaming tha Park Chanyeol adores Byun Baekhyun with all his heart. And as Chanyeol sits, antsy, at the edge of the sofa, he feels like doing just that - only if Baekhyun feels the same way, that is.
“Ready for cookies?” Baekhyun’s wearing the horrible sweater his mother had given him the week before, hands covered with over-large oven mitts so he can hold the steaming tray of gingerbread men. Chanyeol scoffs.
“I was born ready.”
They share a laugh despite the fact Chanyeol’s heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest. He sets the cookies down on the coffee table and collapses into Chanyeol’s side, head resting on his shoulder. Baekhyun pouts.
“I spent hours on those, you should let me open a present early.”
Tha-dum.
With a deep breath, Chanyeol nods.
“Why don’t we go through our stockings?”
Baekhyun pretends to think.
“Hey,” he states with a hardly contained grin. “I don’t know what you did to deserve early presents, mister.”
“Bu Baek.”
“Ah-ah-ah, not this time. Do something for me and maybe I’ll consider it.”
He huffs.
“I’ll give you a foot massage every day for the next week.”
“Deal.”
Chanyeol laughs and hops up to take down the stockings, save for Fluffy’s which they plan to go through with him the next morning. He sets them next to the cookies, trying to figure out the best way to do this. When nothing comes to mind, he stutters out me first and pulls his stocking close. He smiles at the ridiculous socks and other things he knows Baekhyun only bought because he knew it would make him smile. His heart pounds harder and faster when he gets to the bottom, knowing now was the time that would make them or break them.
Chanyeol hands the sock of sorts to his boyfriend and sits back on the couch. His fingers tap ceasingly on his knee.
“Stop it, will you? I’m sure I’ll love whatever you put in here.”
He wishes Baekhyun couldn’t read him like a book.
He watches Baekhyun’s eyes light up with every little thing, counting the seconds subconsciously until he reaches the end. Were he less nervous, Chanyeol would tuck away the memory of the small smile gracing the elder’s face.
His heart drops in time with the stocking and Baekhyun’s jaw.
“Chanyeol,” he breathes. “Is this what I think it is?”
Not trusting his voice, he nods.
“Byun Baekhyu-“
“Yes.”
“Wha-“
“I said yes.”
“But I had a whole speech planned ou-”
Baekhyun fills his arms and- are those tears wetting his shoulder?
“I don’t need a speech, idiot, I want to marry you and the fact that you want to marry me too is good enough for me.”
Chanyeol sighs in relief.
As they share kisses feet away from any mistletoe in the apartment, they both know that this Christmas will be the best they’ve ever had.