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Summary
"Chan hyung," Minho murmurs, his breath hitting Chan's lips. "What are you doing?"
In his drunken haze, Chan must have bridged the little gap between them, because their lips are only a breath away from kissing and their faces are half smushed together. This close, he can see each individual eyelash and spec of gold-brown eye glitter. This close, he can just about see the mole on his nose. Chan wants to brush off the concealer in its spot completely, but he finds, more than that, that he really wants to kiss him.
He doesn't panic. He doesn't spring backwards and fall over the armrest of the sofa, like he might have done if he were completely sober.
Instead, while very careful not to move forward, Chan does not move any further back either, and whispers dumbly, "You smell of pizza."
Minho hisses back, "You smell of pizza too!"
"It's okay," Chan says, nosing at Minho's cheek. "I like pizza."
Minho huffs and bumps back into his nose with his own. "Now, you haven't answered my question. What are you doing, Chan hyung?"
or the one where best friends Chan and Minho spend Valentine's night together, and get a little closer than usual.