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“Absolutely not.” Minho denies as he pets Soonie, who is taking a rather comfortable nap on one of Minho’s pillows. “I’ll feed you stale bread for a month.”
Next to him, Seungmin gasps like he’s offended. Minho knows he is not.
“Come on, hyung,” Seungmin flashes him a genuine smile, as he squeezes at the expanse of Minho’s thigh that his shorts don’t cover. “Play nice.”
Minho feels light. He scoffs and takes the photo album from Seungmin’s evil hands and hugs it close to his chest, ears burning.
“You are the one not playing nice. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
From the other side of the bed, Dori meows loud and long, like he’s laughing. Seungmin laughs too. His smile reaches his eyes and turns them into crescents and Minho feels his chest tighten. This is a feeling he recognizes, sweet, sick endearment. He narrows his eyes and suppresses the urge to coo at Seungmin and kiss his stupid lips.
“I just wanna see my fiancé’s baby pictures, is that not allowed?” Seungmin asks. His voice is missing the characteristic tease he uses when he’s feeling playful.
This scene feels sickeningly domestic. His mom is making seaweed soup in the kitchen. Minho and Seungmin sit in Minho’s old bed as they bicker. Any second now, his father will come back with his grandmother. Maybe this is why he feels one of his eyes twitching when he leans closer to Seungmin.
“Drop your act. If you think I’ll hesitate to kill you because my mom is here, you’re so, so wrong.” He says through gritted teeth. “I’ll put you in a blender and—“
Seungmin giggles before he can finish the sentence.
“Okay, okay. You win, silly.” He pinches Minho’s cheek lightly. “I’ll behave.”
If it were anyone else, Minho would believe those words, but he’s been with Seungmin long enough to know he’s not done antagonizing him. Contrary to what he says, Seungmin’s grip on Minho’s thigh tightens. His breath tickles Minho’s neck as inches forward to steal a kiss, his hip pressed against Minho’s side. It’s a soft, messy peck. Minho is both endeared and annoyed.
When they separate, Minho huffs, amused. His heart stammers against his ribcage while he tries to come up with a witty remark but a knock on the door interrupts his train of thought.
“Are you two fighting?”
Suddenly, it’s like Minho is seventeen again and he’s been caught kissing his childhood crush in this same room. His face must be red. Except now he’s twenty-five and his soon-to-be-husband is playing mind games on him and his grandmother just walked in on a display of psychological warfare.
“We never fight, granny.”
Minho tries to get up but Seungmin beats him to it.
“Yeah, hyung was just about to show me his baby pictures.” Seungmin pipes in as he helps Minho’s grandmother sit next to them in the bed, puppy smile on display. “Do you want to see them with us, granny?”
Minho watches his grandmother's face brighten in a second, matching Seungmin’s expression. A burning feeling eats at his chest. When the mental picture he takes of the scene isn’t enough to ease his heart, his fingers itch to take his phone out and snap a photo.
Instead of doing that, he loosens his grip on the photo album and opens it willingly. He catches Seungmin’s gaze. He looks happy. Maybe Minho is too.
(It’s only once his grandmother asks Seungmin to take good care of Minho that he thinks he doesn't mind Seungmin seeing these pictures too much, after all.)