Work Text:
* ･ ゜ • ゜ ･ *
Minho's chest tightened with fear at the sound of his mother's voice. Brown eyes - previously closed when he was lying on Jisung's chest, listening to his breath and voice, when the boy told a story about how actually one of the lost boys, well... he got lost - they opened widely. Jisung looked at him with care and clenched his fist, where he gently combed his hair.
"Who is this?” He asked anxiously.
"It's just my mom." Minho answered, sounding slightly panicked.
"Your mom?”
Right . Jisung had no idea about many things, and one of them was being a parent. Minho thought about how to explain the concept of parenting.
"Basically, emm... she created me?" His statement came out in the form of a question because he was sure that he sounded completely stupid.
However, Jisung's mouth simply flashed with a bright smile, thanks to which wrinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes, and kissed Minho on the cheek.
"Okay." He said.
Minho thought it would be more difficult for him to explain it, but since the boy did not have any more questions on this topic, he said that it is better to end him than explain where the children actually come from. He got out of bed and looked from above at the pile of Jisung clothes on the floor. His mother would probably be a little confused if she saw him in them.
"I'll give you some of my clothes, okay?”
"Sure! I love all your clothes." Jisung answered enthusiastically, passing through the thumbs on Minho's soft bedding. "They look so big and cute.”
Minho laughed despite the slight panic, which overwhelmed him at the sound of the bustle on the ground floor. He knew his mother could appear every minute. He dug the drawers in search of a second pair of boxers, t-shirts and pajama pants, which Jisung accepted and put on himself with gratitude. When they were both dressed, Jisung glanced at himself and Minho showed him the mirror.
"It's like water in a pond, Jisungie.”
"Oh." he released that and stared at himself for a moment.
When he looked, his mother's voice called at the base of the stairs:
"Minho, I will come upstairs to say hello, okay?”
"Yes of course!” Minho shouted, and Jisung was still looking at himself curiously. "What's up, honey?” He asked, approaching the mirror reflection and surrounding Jisung with a delicate arm. He kissed his temple when the boy frowned.
"I don't have a hat," he grunted, stubbornly folding his arms on his chest. "I need a hat.
Minho almost laughed at his boyfriend, simply because he looked charming, pushing his lips in his t-shirt with the large numbers printed on him, which reached his knees, and below the pajamas, which stretched on the floor. But he refrained, reached into the drawer again for a black hat and placed it on his top, smoothing his bangs and folding a kiss on his forehead.
When he took his lips from Jisung's skin, there was a knock on his bedroom door and Minho mumbled the permission to enter the person.
"Minho!” Hayoon greeted warmly. She shifted her gaze to look at Jisung next to her son, where they were both still standing in the center of the room. The tops of their hands barely rubbed against each other. "Who is this?”
"I'm Jisung!” he exclaimed. "Nice to meet you. Thank you for creating Minho!” His smile was wide and sincere and Hayoon just chuckled softly into her hand at his enthusiasm and excitement.
"You're welcome, darling. Minho, how come I never met your friend before?”
"Oh, it's just our first time.“ Haven't he mentioned Jisung before? “It's, um… Felix's cousin.”
"Fine then," replied Hayoon. "Nice to meet you, Jisung. Would you like to come downstairs for tea? I bought cookies at the bakery.”
Jisung looked at Minho expectantly as he wasn't sure what " tea ", " cookies " or " bakery " were, but they certainly sounded nice.
"Of course, mom!”
Hayoon smiled warmly with a trace of confusion on her face, left Minho's room and went down the stairs. Minho only stayed in the room a moment to press his lips against Jisung's, and motioned for him to follow him downstairs. The boy hasn't seen the rest of the house yet. His eyes fluttered in all directions as Minho led him to the couch in the living room and immediately curled up beside him, feeling safe and warm in his large clothes, staring at the section of the kitchen he could see, confused by all the lights, appliances and... what is this silver instrument that Hayoon has set on fire?
"What is this?” Jisung asked, though softly as the house was so quiet he felt like he shouldn't be the one to disturb the silence.
"It's a kettle, Ji," Minho replied softly. “You pour water into it and put it on the stove… that's the thing with fire… and it heats it up so you can make tea. Tea is a drink made of leaves and other things. You'll like it, I promise.”
Jisung smiled.
"Okay.”
Minho started to briefly explain the kitchen to him and what it was used for, because Jisung was unsure of the entire "cooking " outline. Who was doing something like that?
"What kind of tea do you drink, Jisung?” Hayoon called from the kitchen, just seconds after Minho had finished his explanation.
Jisung glanced at Minho with his eyes that said, "How do I drink my tea?" And the boy replied for him:
"No sugar.”
Hayoon raised her eyebrows in amazement that the young man drank such tea, but she made the drink that way anyway. Minho knew that although Jisung had never had tea, he liked expressive things, and although he could not deny that Jisung was fond of sweets, he liked the crispness of the wild mint, the tartness of the fresh berries, and the freshness of the spices he found in the woods.
Hayoon pulled out the tray and set it on the coffee table in front of them and Jisung curled deeper at his side, digging his cold toes under Minho's feet and making him squirm. Minho slung his arm casually over his shoulders and thought of how to act out the fact that they were just friends. Not that Jisung knew they were doing it anyway. He'll just have to tell his mom later.
After thanking her (which Jisung repeated), he leaned over and took two mugs. His was undeniably milky and sweet, and he knew he wouldn't like Jisung's tea at all, but he handed his boyfriend a small cup with flowery pattern on the side for him to try it.
"Hot." he warned quietly, and Jisung nodded, wrapping his fingers around the heated glass and blowing it lightly. He took a little warm liquid into his mouth and it was still very hot, but it tasted spicy and sweet (not too sweet), and he wondered how he might have missed something so good all his life.
"Mmm… this is delicious," he muttered on the edge of his cup.
Minho squeezed his arm.
"Glad you like it, Jisung. How are you boys today?”
"Wonderfully!” Jisung exclaimed. His voice was loud and his smile great, but he himself was small next to Minho, and it was nice to feel the warmth of not only the tea in his hands and the warmth of his body radiating from the next place, but being with the boy he loved, learning new things and the fact that his " mom " was very nice.
"I'm fine, Mom," Minho replied too, but he didn't look at her when he replied; his eyes were on Jisung, who looked alert and excited, his lips pressed against the rim of the cup as he sipped softly, pleased with his drink. "How was it at work?” he asked casually, trying to take his eyes off the boy and settling instead with his hand on his thigh. Jisung automatically put his hand on top of it and frowned when Minho didn't twist their fingers together, but left it there, running the pads along his wrist.
"We actually had a lot to do. I'm pretty tired. Do you think you and Jisung could make dinner for us? What if he stayed by then?”
"Dinner?” Jisung asked excitedly. "Can I use your kitchen?”
"Yes, Ji." Minho said softly, trying to keep him calm.
"Yay." The other said softly but with a hint of excitement.
Minho rubbed his thigh up and down.
"It's gonna be fun. You should relax a bit mom.”
"Thank you, Minho.”
Minho smiled at his mother.
"You're welcome.” He squeezed Jisung's knee, just used to the need for constant touch, and saw Hayoon watching them curiously.
"You know what," she began carefully. "You'd be quite cute together.”
Minho grinned in a huge smile, and Jisung just chuckled and tucked his head in his neck. Normally, Minho would have exclaimed indignantly, but now he couldn't help but smile. He ran a hand through Jisung's short hair and was about to say something to break the awkward silence that fell between them before Jisung said:
"So what are we doing in the kitchen?”
* ･ ゜ • ゜ ･ *