Work Text:
Chan was lying on the couch in his shared flat with Jeongin. It was evening, but he’d promised to come home earlier for once.
His laptop was still open on his lap though. No one had been able to beat that habit out of him yet.
He was deep into creating a new beat, trying to grasp the melody floating in his mind when he heard the front door open.
“Hyung, it’s me.”
A smile appeared on Chan’s lips. “Minho-yah!”
He sounded excited to his own ears. He discarded his laptop on the living room table and shot up to his feet to trot over to Minho who had entered the kitchen. The younger man was busy emptying bags of groceries.
“What are you doing here?”
“Heard you’ve been starving yourself again.”
Chan muttered that he hadn’t been starving himself, he’d just forgotten to eat. Again.
“Same thing. You should be ashamed it's to the point Innie has to take care of you. He was quite worried when he called me.”
Chan felt a pang of guilt hearing that. It wasn’t for lack of trying, though. He just got lost in the music and forgot about everything else entirely. He usually came out of his focused trance in the middle of the night, famished and more than ready to go to bed.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”
Minho sighed and his face softened. He washed a few vegetables and reached for a cutting knife. “I know, hyung. That’s why I’m here to help your sorry ass further. You should bow to my generosity.”
Chan's chest filled with warmth and he rounded the kitchen island to wrap his arms around Minho. “Thank you.” He smacked a kiss on the dancer’s cheek.
Minho made a face and waved the hand that wasn’t holding the knife at him. “Quit this or I’m going to end up poisoning you instead.”
Chan giggled and released Minho. “Can I help with anything?”
Minho pointed at the onions and started cutting the veggies he was holding.
Once Chan had gathered the needed supplies, he got to peeling and dicing the onions. They were silent. They danced around each other in the kitchen, adding oil to a pan, stirring the food and getting plates ready. They communicated with a few words, a few touches here and there. Some of them lingered more than others. Chan had missed simply existing with Minho like this. There was always an easy understanding between them. It was peaceful.
By the time they finished the meal prep, Chan felt all fuzzy inside. He was pretty sure his face had been stuck on a happy smile for the last ten minutes.
He didn’t notice the small looks Minho was stealing, a small smile hiding in the corner of his lips.
“Is Iyen-ah joining us?” Chan asked when they took their seats at the little kitchen table.
Minho shook his head. “He’s at Felix and Seungmin’s. Said he’d be back later.”
Chan tried not to linger on how happy the thought of spending the evening alone with Minho made him.
They ate in the same comfortable quiet as before, only exchanging a few questions and thoughts about their day here and there.
Once they were done, they made quick work of the dishes and conquered the living room couch. Chan was going to sit on his usual side when Minho clicked his tongue and said: “Come here, hyung.”
Ears suddenly burning, Chan let himself be pulled into Minho’s arms, chest to chest. He hid his face in Minho’s neck as the dancer wrapped his arms around him, cooing softly against his hair. “Aigo, our Chan-ah, you’ve been working so hard.”
For some reason, that brought tears to Chan’s eyes. He squeezed them tightly shut and burrowed closer to Minho, inhaling the sweet scent of his shampoo.
Minho was getting more comfortable by the day. He’d started to buff up lately, yet he was still soft and cuddly around all that muscle. It was like being wrapped in a warm and soft cloud. Not that Chan would ever tell him that.
Chan felt very small in Minho’s arms that day. It was oddly comforting.
“I love you, Minho-yah.”
Minho’s arms tightened around him. “I don’t.” He said, but Chan heard the soft smile in his voice.
One of Minho’s hands was resting on the back of his head, thumb drawing circles into his curls. The other rested against his side, warm and heavy. Before he knew it, Chan was dozing off. He faintly felt the kiss Minho pressed to his hair before his mind floated away to sleep.
When Jeongin came home that night, he was welcomed by the sight of his hyungs cuddled and asleep on the couch together. He’d deny that his heart squeezed at the sight, and would say the blanket that suddenly found itself covering the two sleeping men had arrived there by enchantment.
He hummed happily as he went back to his room, congratulating himself on a job well done.
All Chan needed to stop working was a cuddle after all.