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Hansol hardly expects anyone else to be up at three in the morning, so when he tiredly stumbles his way down the hall in the direction of the kitchen he’s surprised to see that the light is already on. He peeks cautiously through the open doorway and his gaze immediately softens when he sees Seungkwan leaning against the counter.
“Hey,” he says softly as he walks over, not wanting to frighten him.
Nonetheless, Seungkwan startles and almost spills the contents of his mug all over himself. “Hey yourself,” he says, looking torn between a glare and a smile. “Can’t sleep?”
Hansol shakes his head as he steps closer. “I think I’ve caught a cold; my throat is killing me.”
At the mention of illness, Seungkwan instinctively takes a step away from him. “It better not be infectious.”
Hansol follows him step for step, slightly offended but also amused, until they’re pressed up against each other, shoulder to shoulder. He gives him his best shit-eating grin, trying to ignore the hot drink in Seungkwan’s hands that could very easily end up getting thrown at him if he’s not careful.
“What are you drinking?” he asks curiously, hoping to divert the attention away from his alarmingly poor self-preservation skills.
“Chamomile tea.”
“That’s oddly specific,” Hansol grins as he nudges Seungkwan’s shoulder playfully. “Why not just drink regular tea like a normal human being?”
Seungkwan gives him his best ‘don’t-say-stupid-things’ look and takes a disdainful sip of his tea. “I can’t sleep and regular tea has caffeine in it, idiot. Chamomile calms me down.”
Hansol raises his eyebrows, half-dubious, half-impressed. “Cool,” he says, wincing as his voice cracks. “I don’t suppose-” He breaks off, voice going hoarse, and tries again. “I don’t suppose you’ve got something for a cold?”
Seungkwan’s lips quirk in an almost imperceptible smile. “Come again? I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Have you got something-” He breaks off again as his voice struggles to find a pitch that isn’t a high squeak or an inaudible huff.
“One more time?” Seungkwan asks, trying to hide his grin behind his mug.
“It’s not funny!” Hansol whinges, “I’m sick!” He groans inwardly when his voice rises at least two octaves too high, sending Seungkwan into a fit of giggles.
“I’m sorry,” Seungkwan manages to wheeze out between giggles, placing his mug on the counter so he can loop his arms around Hansol’s neck in an apologetic hug. “Go sit down or something, I’ll make you tea.”
Hansol perks up. “What flavour?”
“It’s a surpriiiiiise,” Seungkwan drawls, with a wink that sends jolts of electricity through Hansol’s body.
Perching himself up on top of the counter, Hansol dangles his legs at just the right angle so he can give Seungkwan a playful kick every now and then. Seungkwan ignores him (for the most part) as he pulls suspicious-looking ingredients out of the cupboard. Hansol is barely able to restrain himself from interrupting to ask what he’s doing, knowing that it will only earn him an eye-roll and pointed silence.
“There!” Seungkwan declares when he’s finally done, proudly handing Hansol a steaming mug. “Enjoy,” he adds, and Hansol can’t help but feel like it’s an order more than anything.
He sighs as the smell coming from his mug rolls over him like a warm and gentle wave. “It smells amazing.” He closes his eyes as he takes a tentative sip, sighing once more as the hot liquid hits the back of his throat to blissfully numb the edges of his pain.
“It’s liquorice root tea.”
Hansol takes another sip and has to resist the urge to chug the entire mug in one go, relishing in the way it soothes his aching vocal chords. He carefully places it on the counter next to him, hopping down in one swift motion so he can wrap his arms around Seungkwan in a crushing bear-hug.
“I’ll never make fun of your weird tea ever again,” he swears against Seungkwan’s neck, meaning every word. “What would I do without you, Seungkwan?”
Seungkwan laughs and Hansol feels the vibrations of it against his chest. “Don’t be such a drama queen, I only made you tea.”
Hansol pulls back ever so slightly to fix Seungkwan with the most intense gaze he can muster, hands gripping his shoulders. “It is so much more than just tea,” he says as dramatically as possible.
Seungkwan snorts and goes to cover his mouth as he breaks into yet another fit of giggles, eyes sparkling delightedly despite his tiredness. Hansol’s chest feels light and heavy at the same time and he grins back at Seungkwan, overcome with such a strong sense of affection that it nearly knocks him off his feet.
I made him laugh like this, he thinks proudly.
“Would it kill you to just say thank you like a normal person?”
Hansol relaxes his grip on Seungkwan’s shoulders. “It might,” he mutters gravely.
“How about a thank-you kiss, then?”
Although Seungkwan says it jokingly, there’s a bold look in his eyes that makes Hansol’s cheeks feel warm and his heart beat faster. Seungkwan makes a small noise of surprise at the back of his throat when Hansol leans forward to press their lips together as gently as possible, trying to keep his racing heart under control.
He pulls away quickly, probably too quickly for it to be considered more than a peck. Panic starts to settle in. “Was that mphh–”
There are arms around his neck, hands in his hair, and eager lips against his own. Hansol freezes for a second before kissing back, slowly but with a bit more confidence this time. Seungkwan’s hands slide down to curl into the fabric of Hansol’s t-shirt and he whines impatiently at the back of his throat, clearly not happy with the slow pace.
Hansol smiles into the kiss, hands seeking out Seungkwan’s waist so he can pull him closer. Seungkwan hums in approval and tilts his head, inviting Hansol to part his lips and deepen the kiss.
“Wow,” Hansol breathes when they eventually part. “Forget tea, I think a kiss from you is the best cure for a sore throat.”
He barely has time to slip in a cheeky wink at the end before Seungkwan is rolling his eyes and smacking his arm.
Hansol laughs as he tries to protect himself. “C’mon, that was a compliment! You usually love those.”
Seungkwan turns his head as Hansol tries to kiss him again. “Nope, you have ruined the mood by being a cheesy prat.”
“Well, this cheesy prat would gratefully appreciate it if you would come to his room. For purely medical reasons, I mean.”
Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. “Naturally.”
Their tea lies cold and forgotten on the kitchen counter, but their kisses keep them warm.