Feel Better
Title: Feel Better
Pairing: Onho
Length: 3026 words
Rating: PG13
Genre: au, fluff
Summary: Jinki was in a bad mood.
Jinki slumped sideways, blanketed in his too-large sweatshirt. The hood was up covering his head, hair falling into his eyes. He curled up and tucked his hands into the pocket, holding back a self-pitying sigh. He'd heard enough of his own deep breaths for that day.
His phone was just in front of his face on the pillow, and he tried to pretend like it didn't feel like the thing was mocking him. He wasn't usually this co-dependent, he really wasn't, but god, his day had just been so unbelievably terrible and he hadn't even had a chance to speak to Minho yet because of clashing schedules. He didn't know if he was busy or not, so he couldn't just call him like he wanted to. He was left to wait for a call, forced to smolder in his foul demeanor.
It wasn't often that Jinki felt like he needed his boyfriend to lean on as a crutch, but honestly the only way for him to rationalize what he was feeling would be to simply say, "I need a hug."
The war against sighing was lost by Jinki; his chest rose and fell heavily with his noisy breath. He hated feeling like this.
The clock on the wall high above his head told him it was already after nine o'clock. So Minho was almost home, most likely, if the restaurant wasn't keeping him late.
Jinki was just trying to figure how much longer it would be before Minho got home when the heavens answered his pleas and his phone rang.
"Hi," he said instantly after answering; he put the phone on speaker and set it back on the pillow, watching the screen dim.
"Hey hyung," Minho's tone lacked its usual energy, Jinki was quick to hear, but held a clear note of apology that tugged at Jinki's heart, "I'm almost home now. Sorry I didn't call earlier, I'm really tired."
"It's all right," Jinki was right before about how just speaking to Minho would make things a little better. It wasn't a huge improvement, but the dark clouds above his head seemed to be dissipating the slightest bit by now.
"Are you okay?" Minho's perception was sharp as ever. "You sound upset."
Jinki shrugged, even though he knew that Minho wouldn't be able to see. It was all he could really do to be truthful. "Yes" would be a lie. "No" wouldn't be the exact truth, either. Even something along the lines of "I don't know" didn't quite seem right.
So, all he did was shrug, and it read as silence to Minho.
"Is it from work?"
"Yeah, I guess," he said noncommittally.
"School?"
"Sure, that too."
His next question came out infinitely more worried than the previous ones, "Did I do something?"
"No," he was quick to respond, not wanting Minho to blame himself for any bit of his bad mood, "No, it's not you. I'm just being moody, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, baby," his voice had an odd echoing quality to it that made Jinki's brows knit together.
He looked over his shoulder towards the door and, just as he expected, there Minho was, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey," Jinki greeted, and an unexpected smile quirked the corners of his mouth. It was remarkable, how just seeing his boyfriend lifted his mood enough to make such a big difference.
"Hey," Minho said in return, ending the call on his phone; he didn't turn on the light in the bedroom, which Jinki appreciated as he turned back around and studied the textured wall in front of him.
There was shuffling from a distance; Minho was taking off his jacket-Jinki could tell how exhausted he was just from the way he dragged out his movements; any normal day, he would've taken half the time-, setting his back on the ground, and discarding his keys on the bedside table.
The bed sank behind him, and Jinki exhaled to relax himself. "How was work?" Jinki asked just as Minho's arm was snaking around his waist. At once, he was enveloped in Minho's warmth, his clean scent surrounding him. It was such a nice sensation; not extraordinarily exciting, nor dull enough to go unnoticed. In a different sense than just physical, what he felt throughout his body when Minho laid with him was the same as when heat bubbled under his skin when they touched, when blood burned in his cheeks from apprehension or embarrassment because Minho said something especially sweet; it wasn't something he always experience, a brand of genuine warmth that only Minho could give him.
"It was okay. Busy," Minho said nonchalantly, voice near-inaudible so not to shatter the reverie, "No fun without you, though. I hate when we have different shifts. I'm glad to be home."
Jinki smiled again. He reached his forefinger out and mapped out an aimless line on the wall in front of him; he traced the bumps and indents of the texture, beige paint glossy on top.
"What's wrong, baby?" Minho gingerly tugged at the hood of Jinki's sweatshirt to pull it back from his head.
He shrugged once more and lifted his head to accommodate Minho pulling his hood down. "One of those days."
Minho hummed and moved closer; his fingers combed through the back of his hair, shimmying through loose knots made by lying down for so long.
Jinki timed his inhales and exhales, slow and deep like he was feigning sleep. He was just trying to keep relaxed, fingertip still moving on the wall.
Minho was helping immensely with the serenity in the room, the sound of his low breathing marking time, petting his hair with such gentle motions that Jinki was sure he was melting into the mattress.
Jinki was a moment away from dropping his hand when Minho reached out and covered it with his own. Long fingers laced in with short ones; he heard Minho's small exhale and felt the tip of his nose brush against the nape of his neck. He pulled their hands to Jinki's chest, holding him more closely than before, something so familiar yet desired enough that Jinki's heart sped up a beat.
They'd both been so busy lately, between their manager at work splitting their shifts up and exams at school, that they'd barely even seen each other. They'd begun to feel distant even living together; Jinki assumed that that in part contributed to the rain cloud above his head since he'd woken up.
Now, there were hours they could waste like this. Minho was home from work; exams were over, so neither of them needed to study. Minho was tired and Jinki was tired, and all he wanted was Minho's company to make him feel better about his day, his life, his everything.
"I dropped another tray today," he confessed quietly, ashamed as always. He didn't usually let it show in front of his co-workers how embarrassed he was when his clumsiness got the better of him at work. It wasn't always a hazard, and usually no one got hurt physically, but he felt like a child when it happened. Helpless and at fault. Only Minho knew about it, how he really regarded his own inherent condition of two left feet and zero hand-eye coordination, and was always there to wrap his arms around him and tell him it was okay.
Minho made him feel like it really was okay.
"Babe," he murmured and tightened his hold on his hand, "it's all right. Did anyone get hurt?"
"No," Jinki shook his head, chin tucking to his chest so he could look down at their hands. It was dark in the room, but he could still faintly see them, twined together like they were used to. He flexed his fingers underneath Minho's, and he responded by running his thumb over the side of his palm.
"Then no harm done, right?" Minho asked optimistically.
He sighed and moved to sit up. It was getting too hot in his hoodie, and he wanted to stay lying down with Minho for as long as possible. He pulled it over his head and tossed it aside, only to purposely fall back in place, mattress bouncing underneath him. "It was full of food. Jonghyun had to cook everything again by himself during the lunch rush. The customers were really mad."
Minho ran a hand down his bare arm, accessible by his tank-top. "They got their food eventually, right? The customers will be fine."
"Jonghyun was upset," Jinki said, incredibly wounded by the entire event. He couldn't help but cringe at himself, really. He was stuck in that state of mind, where nothing he did was right.
"I'm sure he's not mad at you, hyung, he knows that-"
"I hate that it happens so often," Jinki stopped him before his kindness moved too far. He was fully blaming himself for everything; it was what he always did. Minho didn't understand because he didn't see Jonghyun's face, how distraught he was as he powerlessly watched Jinki slip on some water spilled by a child.
Minho propped himself up on his elbow, lacing his fingers once again with Jinki's. Instead of saying anything to assuage him, Minho lightly pressed his lips to the peak of his shoulder and brushed back and forth. He dragged his lips down and pressed once, twice, three times, four… Jinki lost count. The gentlest affection, the kind that Jinki needed but didn't know how to ask for; the tender peppering of kisses on his shoulder and over to the nape of his neck. His arm was covered in goosebumps, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.
"Babe, you're perfect, you know that right?" Minho asked, mouth moving at the dip of his neck and shoulder. His low voice rumbled in his chest and Jinki could feel it vibrate on his back. Everything was so much more intimate like this, when he could feel Minho's words on his skin.
Jinki shivered from his words alone; his eyes shut serenely and he didn't say anything in turn. He didn't know what to say, not at all; nothing came to mind other than disagreement.
"I love you, hyung. Clumsiness and all," a smile sounded in his voice, fingers crawling up his shoulder blades.
Jinki grimaced. "I always cause trouble for other people. Wherever I go, something bad happens."
"Well, it's worth it for me to help clean up your mess," Minho whispered thoughtfully into the side of his neck, "as long as I get to be with you wherever you go."
His smile returned; at the same time, he felt like his heart left his body completely and was floating up to the ceiling.
Minho sighed. "I hate it when you're upset like this. Tell me anything I can do to fix it and I'll do it," he rested his chin on his shoulder, hand moving to rub the curve of his waist.
"Stay here," was Jinki's lone request.
Minho let out a breathy chuckle. "It never even crossed my mind to move," he said, but then contradicted his words by backing away.
Jinki's momentary pang of disappointment was diminished when he felt Minho coaxing him to lie on his back, and he let himself be guided where Minho wanted him.
Minho hovered over Jinki, hands on either side of his head.
He was so handsome, Jinki saw for the nth time since they'd met, huge eyes, round lips, sharp nose. The apples of his cheeks were more pronounced by the half-smile curving his lips, face framed by strands of hair that'd fallen from his ponytail.
He looked more tired than he let on once he got in the room, indulging Jinki's moodiness and trying to ease his gloomy attitude. The circles under his eyes were dark and there was an unusually pale quality to his skin that Jinki couldn't not notice after a moment further of focus.
Jinki reached his hand up and tenderly touched his cheek. "You look tired, babe."
"Thanks," he said mock-bitterly, the small twist of a smile on his lips growing.
His fingers moved over his neck until they were weaving in with escaped tendrils of his hair, and he barely raked his nails over the base of his neck. "Thank you for taking care of me," he said, eyes trailing down to Minho's lips from embarrassment. He didn't know what he was saying or why he was saying it aloud; it was liberating, in its own right, to be speaking straight from his heart like this.
Minho's smile grew and he bent down to kiss him for the first time all day, lips warm and tender on Jinki's.
"What else am I here for, hyung?" he asked, a breath away from his mouth, smiling widely, "You take care of me, and I take care of you. That's how all this works."
"You're always the one doing things for me," Jinki said guiltily, pushing the hair that'd fallen out of Minho's ponytail away from his face, "I never do enough for you."
Minho smiled again; he bent down and shut his eyes, dragging the end of his nose up the bridge of Jinki's, ending his path by pressing a kiss to the center of his forehead. "You make me unimaginably happy. Doesn't that count for anything?"
Jinki felt his cheeks color and his lips pulled into a smile of their own accord. "No," he said for the sake of being difficult. His smile gave him away.
"No? No?" Minho's mouth fell open in feigned outrage. He dipped his head and pecked Jinki on the cheeks, on his nose, on his forehead, and on his lips until Jinki's chuckles-which he attempted to subdue by pursing his lips-were full-out laughs, eyes squinting up and mouth opening wide. He grappled for Minho's shoulders to push him back, but Minho had none of it.
"Hyung, hyung, wait," Minho backed away suddenly, eyes wide, posture stiff.
"What?"
"What's that sound?"
"What soun-"
"Shh... wait, no I know what it is," his look of confusion smoothed out into a fond smile, "you were laughing."
Jinki grinned in spite of himself and raised up on his elbows to kiss Minho's lips, soft and lingering.
"Hey," Minho whispered when he pulled back, just far enough that Jinki could open his eyes and see him, though his eyes were crossing slightly.
"Hm?" he asked when Minho made no effort to continue speaking.
"I'm sorry you had a bad day," he said, sincerity in every syllable. He picked up his hand from the mattress and laid it against Jinki's cheek, fingers brushing his cheekbone.
Jinki bowed his head forward and touched their foreheads together. "It's better now."
"Yeah?"
"Hey," Jinki offered instead of a yes or no.
"Hm?"
"I love you," and once more he was smiling without original intent, words sappy and opportune and so embarrassing he would've cringed in any other situation.
Minho pushed him to lie down without a word, and his fatigue showed again from the way he heavily laid beside him, only to lift his head moments later to rest on Jinki's chest.
The first thing Jinki thought to do before Minho got too comfortable was reach around to pull the elastic out of his hair, releasing his long hair from his ponytail so not to cause him discomfort later. He used his fingers as a comb and Minho lay there peacefully, letting him do as he pleased with his hair.
Jinki made sure to brush it away from his face, only a partly encouraged by his own desire to see his boyfriend's face. It was more comfortable for Minho that way, too.
"Keep doing that," Minho mumbled, and reacted with an exaggerated, "Ow!" when Jinki harmlessly tugged on a section of his hair in turn.
The older grinned and dropped his hand to his stomach, where Minho immediately grabbed it, weak as his grip was.
In an act of compromise-Minho asked him not to stop, after all-Jinki's other hand found Minho's back and he patted him, hand moving rhythmically in the way he knew relaxed Minho.
"I'm gonna fall asleep, hyung," Minho threatened good-naturedly, scooting closer to his body and releasing his hand. In the end, after running his down his free arm, his hand went still and relaxed flat on his stomach and Jinki took it with his anyway.
"Go to sleep, babe," Jinki murmured, mood lifted, an unparalleled contrast to how it was less than an hour before. It wasn't a matter of a mediocre day at work or the unpleasant weather. It wasn't his bad hair day or the fact that he'd shattered several plates all in one go. Minho was what he was missing, it seemed.
"I love-you," Minho reminded him, interrupted in the middle by a yawn he muffled into the middle of Jinki's chest.
Jinki laughed softly. "I'm sorry I get like this sometimes," he apologized just as lowly, sure that Minho couldn't even fully grasp what he was saying. Still, he felt guilty for dragging him in like this, considering how tired Minho was when he'd called him earlier. Undoubtedly, all he'd wanted was to come home and sleep, not deal with a constant downer of a boyfriend when he fell into one of his slumps.
"It's okay," Minho said, words coming out more slowly, dragging out laboriously, "I want to make you happy," he tried to shrug, it looked like, but Jinki couldn't really tell. All he saw was a cute sleepy gesture where his shoulders moved barely enough to be noticeable.
"You do," Jinki said fondly, patting him more softly now.
"Good," Minho's lips curved up and his breathing grew slow and even from there.
Jinki had never known anyone to fall dead asleep as fast as Minho did. It was endearing.
But at the same time, he couldn't say much. It was after less than five minutes of hearing his exhales that Jinki's eyes were drooping, too.
He would wake up in a much better mood the next day, he knew. He had to.
a/n - okay hai HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALI c:
she challenged me to write something to out-gay everything I've ever written and, while I don't think I quite succeeded, I still tried. and let's be fair this is really fucking gay.
unedited, of course. do I ever edit anything nowadays? nope. on that note let's pretend they're not both ooc shhhhhhhh it's okay.
also I can't believe I forgot to add this the first time I uploaded this, but this is from the same au as (mission: green tea) c: hence why they're waiters and all. I'm not that unoriginal that I couldn't think of another job for them XD
but yiss ali is the actual best and I love you so much it hurts okay?? c':
uhm. yes. do with this as you please. XD I hope you liked it, and thank you so much for reading ^^
Kat
mikssi
[masterlist]
Pairing: Onho
Length: 3026 words
Rating: PG13
Genre: au, fluff
Summary: Jinki was in a bad mood.
Jinki slumped sideways, blanketed in his too-large sweatshirt. The hood was up covering his head, hair falling into his eyes. He curled up and tucked his hands into the pocket, holding back a self-pitying sigh. He'd heard enough of his own deep breaths for that day.
His phone was just in front of his face on the pillow, and he tried to pretend like it didn't feel like the thing was mocking him. He wasn't usually this co-dependent, he really wasn't, but god, his day had just been so unbelievably terrible and he hadn't even had a chance to speak to Minho yet because of clashing schedules. He didn't know if he was busy or not, so he couldn't just call him like he wanted to. He was left to wait for a call, forced to smolder in his foul demeanor.
It wasn't often that Jinki felt like he needed his boyfriend to lean on as a crutch, but honestly the only way for him to rationalize what he was feeling would be to simply say, "I need a hug."
The war against sighing was lost by Jinki; his chest rose and fell heavily with his noisy breath. He hated feeling like this.
The clock on the wall high above his head told him it was already after nine o'clock. So Minho was almost home, most likely, if the restaurant wasn't keeping him late.
Jinki was just trying to figure how much longer it would be before Minho got home when the heavens answered his pleas and his phone rang.
"Hi," he said instantly after answering; he put the phone on speaker and set it back on the pillow, watching the screen dim.
"Hey hyung," Minho's tone lacked its usual energy, Jinki was quick to hear, but held a clear note of apology that tugged at Jinki's heart, "I'm almost home now. Sorry I didn't call earlier, I'm really tired."
"It's all right," Jinki was right before about how just speaking to Minho would make things a little better. It wasn't a huge improvement, but the dark clouds above his head seemed to be dissipating the slightest bit by now.
"Are you okay?" Minho's perception was sharp as ever. "You sound upset."
Jinki shrugged, even though he knew that Minho wouldn't be able to see. It was all he could really do to be truthful. "Yes" would be a lie. "No" wouldn't be the exact truth, either. Even something along the lines of "I don't know" didn't quite seem right.
So, all he did was shrug, and it read as silence to Minho.
"Is it from work?"
"Yeah, I guess," he said noncommittally.
"School?"
"Sure, that too."
His next question came out infinitely more worried than the previous ones, "Did I do something?"
"No," he was quick to respond, not wanting Minho to blame himself for any bit of his bad mood, "No, it's not you. I'm just being moody, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, baby," his voice had an odd echoing quality to it that made Jinki's brows knit together.
He looked over his shoulder towards the door and, just as he expected, there Minho was, shutting the door behind him.
"Hey," Jinki greeted, and an unexpected smile quirked the corners of his mouth. It was remarkable, how just seeing his boyfriend lifted his mood enough to make such a big difference.
"Hey," Minho said in return, ending the call on his phone; he didn't turn on the light in the bedroom, which Jinki appreciated as he turned back around and studied the textured wall in front of him.
There was shuffling from a distance; Minho was taking off his jacket-Jinki could tell how exhausted he was just from the way he dragged out his movements; any normal day, he would've taken half the time-, setting his back on the ground, and discarding his keys on the bedside table.
The bed sank behind him, and Jinki exhaled to relax himself. "How was work?" Jinki asked just as Minho's arm was snaking around his waist. At once, he was enveloped in Minho's warmth, his clean scent surrounding him. It was such a nice sensation; not extraordinarily exciting, nor dull enough to go unnoticed. In a different sense than just physical, what he felt throughout his body when Minho laid with him was the same as when heat bubbled under his skin when they touched, when blood burned in his cheeks from apprehension or embarrassment because Minho said something especially sweet; it wasn't something he always experience, a brand of genuine warmth that only Minho could give him.
"It was okay. Busy," Minho said nonchalantly, voice near-inaudible so not to shatter the reverie, "No fun without you, though. I hate when we have different shifts. I'm glad to be home."
Jinki smiled again. He reached his forefinger out and mapped out an aimless line on the wall in front of him; he traced the bumps and indents of the texture, beige paint glossy on top.
"What's wrong, baby?" Minho gingerly tugged at the hood of Jinki's sweatshirt to pull it back from his head.
He shrugged once more and lifted his head to accommodate Minho pulling his hood down. "One of those days."
Minho hummed and moved closer; his fingers combed through the back of his hair, shimmying through loose knots made by lying down for so long.
Jinki timed his inhales and exhales, slow and deep like he was feigning sleep. He was just trying to keep relaxed, fingertip still moving on the wall.
Minho was helping immensely with the serenity in the room, the sound of his low breathing marking time, petting his hair with such gentle motions that Jinki was sure he was melting into the mattress.
Jinki was a moment away from dropping his hand when Minho reached out and covered it with his own. Long fingers laced in with short ones; he heard Minho's small exhale and felt the tip of his nose brush against the nape of his neck. He pulled their hands to Jinki's chest, holding him more closely than before, something so familiar yet desired enough that Jinki's heart sped up a beat.
They'd both been so busy lately, between their manager at work splitting their shifts up and exams at school, that they'd barely even seen each other. They'd begun to feel distant even living together; Jinki assumed that that in part contributed to the rain cloud above his head since he'd woken up.
Now, there were hours they could waste like this. Minho was home from work; exams were over, so neither of them needed to study. Minho was tired and Jinki was tired, and all he wanted was Minho's company to make him feel better about his day, his life, his everything.
"I dropped another tray today," he confessed quietly, ashamed as always. He didn't usually let it show in front of his co-workers how embarrassed he was when his clumsiness got the better of him at work. It wasn't always a hazard, and usually no one got hurt physically, but he felt like a child when it happened. Helpless and at fault. Only Minho knew about it, how he really regarded his own inherent condition of two left feet and zero hand-eye coordination, and was always there to wrap his arms around him and tell him it was okay.
Minho made him feel like it really was okay.
"Babe," he murmured and tightened his hold on his hand, "it's all right. Did anyone get hurt?"
"No," Jinki shook his head, chin tucking to his chest so he could look down at their hands. It was dark in the room, but he could still faintly see them, twined together like they were used to. He flexed his fingers underneath Minho's, and he responded by running his thumb over the side of his palm.
"Then no harm done, right?" Minho asked optimistically.
He sighed and moved to sit up. It was getting too hot in his hoodie, and he wanted to stay lying down with Minho for as long as possible. He pulled it over his head and tossed it aside, only to purposely fall back in place, mattress bouncing underneath him. "It was full of food. Jonghyun had to cook everything again by himself during the lunch rush. The customers were really mad."
Minho ran a hand down his bare arm, accessible by his tank-top. "They got their food eventually, right? The customers will be fine."
"Jonghyun was upset," Jinki said, incredibly wounded by the entire event. He couldn't help but cringe at himself, really. He was stuck in that state of mind, where nothing he did was right.
"I'm sure he's not mad at you, hyung, he knows that-"
"I hate that it happens so often," Jinki stopped him before his kindness moved too far. He was fully blaming himself for everything; it was what he always did. Minho didn't understand because he didn't see Jonghyun's face, how distraught he was as he powerlessly watched Jinki slip on some water spilled by a child.
Minho propped himself up on his elbow, lacing his fingers once again with Jinki's. Instead of saying anything to assuage him, Minho lightly pressed his lips to the peak of his shoulder and brushed back and forth. He dragged his lips down and pressed once, twice, three times, four… Jinki lost count. The gentlest affection, the kind that Jinki needed but didn't know how to ask for; the tender peppering of kisses on his shoulder and over to the nape of his neck. His arm was covered in goosebumps, the sensation sending shivers down his spine.
"Babe, you're perfect, you know that right?" Minho asked, mouth moving at the dip of his neck and shoulder. His low voice rumbled in his chest and Jinki could feel it vibrate on his back. Everything was so much more intimate like this, when he could feel Minho's words on his skin.
Jinki shivered from his words alone; his eyes shut serenely and he didn't say anything in turn. He didn't know what to say, not at all; nothing came to mind other than disagreement.
"I love you, hyung. Clumsiness and all," a smile sounded in his voice, fingers crawling up his shoulder blades.
Jinki grimaced. "I always cause trouble for other people. Wherever I go, something bad happens."
"Well, it's worth it for me to help clean up your mess," Minho whispered thoughtfully into the side of his neck, "as long as I get to be with you wherever you go."
His smile returned; at the same time, he felt like his heart left his body completely and was floating up to the ceiling.
Minho sighed. "I hate it when you're upset like this. Tell me anything I can do to fix it and I'll do it," he rested his chin on his shoulder, hand moving to rub the curve of his waist.
"Stay here," was Jinki's lone request.
Minho let out a breathy chuckle. "It never even crossed my mind to move," he said, but then contradicted his words by backing away.
Jinki's momentary pang of disappointment was diminished when he felt Minho coaxing him to lie on his back, and he let himself be guided where Minho wanted him.
Minho hovered over Jinki, hands on either side of his head.
He was so handsome, Jinki saw for the nth time since they'd met, huge eyes, round lips, sharp nose. The apples of his cheeks were more pronounced by the half-smile curving his lips, face framed by strands of hair that'd fallen from his ponytail.
He looked more tired than he let on once he got in the room, indulging Jinki's moodiness and trying to ease his gloomy attitude. The circles under his eyes were dark and there was an unusually pale quality to his skin that Jinki couldn't not notice after a moment further of focus.
Jinki reached his hand up and tenderly touched his cheek. "You look tired, babe."
"Thanks," he said mock-bitterly, the small twist of a smile on his lips growing.
His fingers moved over his neck until they were weaving in with escaped tendrils of his hair, and he barely raked his nails over the base of his neck. "Thank you for taking care of me," he said, eyes trailing down to Minho's lips from embarrassment. He didn't know what he was saying or why he was saying it aloud; it was liberating, in its own right, to be speaking straight from his heart like this.
Minho's smile grew and he bent down to kiss him for the first time all day, lips warm and tender on Jinki's.
"What else am I here for, hyung?" he asked, a breath away from his mouth, smiling widely, "You take care of me, and I take care of you. That's how all this works."
"You're always the one doing things for me," Jinki said guiltily, pushing the hair that'd fallen out of Minho's ponytail away from his face, "I never do enough for you."
Minho smiled again; he bent down and shut his eyes, dragging the end of his nose up the bridge of Jinki's, ending his path by pressing a kiss to the center of his forehead. "You make me unimaginably happy. Doesn't that count for anything?"
Jinki felt his cheeks color and his lips pulled into a smile of their own accord. "No," he said for the sake of being difficult. His smile gave him away.
"No? No?" Minho's mouth fell open in feigned outrage. He dipped his head and pecked Jinki on the cheeks, on his nose, on his forehead, and on his lips until Jinki's chuckles-which he attempted to subdue by pursing his lips-were full-out laughs, eyes squinting up and mouth opening wide. He grappled for Minho's shoulders to push him back, but Minho had none of it.
"Hyung, hyung, wait," Minho backed away suddenly, eyes wide, posture stiff.
"What?"
"What's that sound?"
"What soun-"
"Shh... wait, no I know what it is," his look of confusion smoothed out into a fond smile, "you were laughing."
Jinki grinned in spite of himself and raised up on his elbows to kiss Minho's lips, soft and lingering.
"Hey," Minho whispered when he pulled back, just far enough that Jinki could open his eyes and see him, though his eyes were crossing slightly.
"Hm?" he asked when Minho made no effort to continue speaking.
"I'm sorry you had a bad day," he said, sincerity in every syllable. He picked up his hand from the mattress and laid it against Jinki's cheek, fingers brushing his cheekbone.
Jinki bowed his head forward and touched their foreheads together. "It's better now."
"Yeah?"
"Hey," Jinki offered instead of a yes or no.
"Hm?"
"I love you," and once more he was smiling without original intent, words sappy and opportune and so embarrassing he would've cringed in any other situation.
Minho pushed him to lie down without a word, and his fatigue showed again from the way he heavily laid beside him, only to lift his head moments later to rest on Jinki's chest.
The first thing Jinki thought to do before Minho got too comfortable was reach around to pull the elastic out of his hair, releasing his long hair from his ponytail so not to cause him discomfort later. He used his fingers as a comb and Minho lay there peacefully, letting him do as he pleased with his hair.
Jinki made sure to brush it away from his face, only a partly encouraged by his own desire to see his boyfriend's face. It was more comfortable for Minho that way, too.
"Keep doing that," Minho mumbled, and reacted with an exaggerated, "Ow!" when Jinki harmlessly tugged on a section of his hair in turn.
The older grinned and dropped his hand to his stomach, where Minho immediately grabbed it, weak as his grip was.
In an act of compromise-Minho asked him not to stop, after all-Jinki's other hand found Minho's back and he patted him, hand moving rhythmically in the way he knew relaxed Minho.
"I'm gonna fall asleep, hyung," Minho threatened good-naturedly, scooting closer to his body and releasing his hand. In the end, after running his down his free arm, his hand went still and relaxed flat on his stomach and Jinki took it with his anyway.
"Go to sleep, babe," Jinki murmured, mood lifted, an unparalleled contrast to how it was less than an hour before. It wasn't a matter of a mediocre day at work or the unpleasant weather. It wasn't his bad hair day or the fact that he'd shattered several plates all in one go. Minho was what he was missing, it seemed.
"I love-you," Minho reminded him, interrupted in the middle by a yawn he muffled into the middle of Jinki's chest.
Jinki laughed softly. "I'm sorry I get like this sometimes," he apologized just as lowly, sure that Minho couldn't even fully grasp what he was saying. Still, he felt guilty for dragging him in like this, considering how tired Minho was when he'd called him earlier. Undoubtedly, all he'd wanted was to come home and sleep, not deal with a constant downer of a boyfriend when he fell into one of his slumps.
"It's okay," Minho said, words coming out more slowly, dragging out laboriously, "I want to make you happy," he tried to shrug, it looked like, but Jinki couldn't really tell. All he saw was a cute sleepy gesture where his shoulders moved barely enough to be noticeable.
"You do," Jinki said fondly, patting him more softly now.
"Good," Minho's lips curved up and his breathing grew slow and even from there.
Jinki had never known anyone to fall dead asleep as fast as Minho did. It was endearing.
But at the same time, he couldn't say much. It was after less than five minutes of hearing his exhales that Jinki's eyes were drooping, too.
He would wake up in a much better mood the next day, he knew. He had to.
a/n - okay hai HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALI c:
she challenged me to write something to out-gay everything I've ever written and, while I don't think I quite succeeded, I still tried. and let's be fair this is really fucking gay.
unedited, of course. do I ever edit anything nowadays? nope. on that note let's pretend they're not both ooc shhhhhhhh it's okay.
also I can't believe I forgot to add this the first time I uploaded this, but this is from the same au as (mission: green tea) c: hence why they're waiters and all. I'm not that unoriginal that I couldn't think of another job for them XD
but yiss ali is the actual best and I love you so much it hurts okay?? c':
uhm. yes. do with this as you please. XD I hope you liked it, and thank you so much for reading ^^
Kat
mikssi
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