Work Text:
The decision to go to IKEA on a Saturday afternoon was, in retrospect, not one of Seungmin’s finest. However, they were here now, so they would just have to make the most of it. A small child appeared out of nowhere and bumped hard into his leg, immediately dropping to the ground and screaming bloody murder. Which seemed unfair to Seungmin – after all, it was his leg that was hurting now. Minho helped the child back to his feet, looking round for a parent to hand him over to. A harried looking man hurried over, apologizing to Seungmin and Minho whilst also gently berating the child, and they bumbled off hand in hand, the father still talking soothingly to his sniffling son.
Seungmin sighed deeply.
“How much do we really need a new bookcase?” he asked. Minho fixed him with a glare.
“Well, if someone would stop buying books…”
“That’s a good point, well presented!” Seungmin grinned. “Shall we keep going, then?”
They followed the arrows on the floor, dodging families carting squalling infants around, and young couples getting starry eyed over Poang armchairs. Minho wanted to look at the ovens, he had been muttering something about a self-cleaning function, so they ambled through the kitchen section. Seungmin ran his hands across every surface and every textile they passed. He then had to stand there like a lemon whilst Minho debated the pros and cons of three virtually identical ovens and looked very closely at the shelf layout in each one. Seungmin resisted the urge to yawn. Minho looked up from the oven display.
“You’re starting to get that look.”
“What look?”
“The one where you either need caffeine or a lie down.”
Seungmin gave him a toothy grin.
Eventually, even Minho tired of discussing pyrolytic settings and steam functions, and they continued round the shop. Their route took them through the children’s section, and Seungmin’s eye fell on a huge pile of stuffed toy golden retriever dogs. He couldn’t help himself; he picked one up and began to tease Minho with it. He held it up in front of his face, and waving one of its paws in his hand he put on a high-pitched voice.
“Hello Minho-ssi! Can I come home with you? I’m house trained!”
Minho smiled and snorted softly.
“Christ. Just what a man approaching thirty needs.”
Seungmin laughed and lowered the toy.
“Alright, alright.”
“Where exactly were you planning to put it anyway?”
“I wasn’t planning anything,” Seungmin said quickly, dropping the dog back onto the pile a little too fast. Minho was already walking towards the shelving section again. Seungmin gave the plushie retriever one last mournful look before hurrying after him.
The bookshelf chosen, they headed to the café for a plate of meatballs of dubious origin.
“I swear these things haven’t even met an animal before. There’s no meat that tastes like this.” Seungmin said through a mouthful of them.
“Oh no, they are definitely meat of some sort.” Minho looked thoughtful. “Rat, probably.” Seungmin laughed. They finished their meals in a comfortable silence, the peaceful eye in a hurricane of noise. A child walked past clutching one of the toy dogs to his chest. Seungmin watched it disappear between the tables before dragging his attention firmly back to his meatballs.
Honestly. He was nearly thirty.
“Right, shall we?” Minho said, stacking their empty plates and standing. He took the tray with their used plates back to the rack, and Seungmin got to his feet too. They continued to the warehouse section of the shop, collecting their new bookcase in flatpack form. Seungmin bent to grab the larger of the two boxes, but Minho got there first with a small frown.
“You’ll put your back out.”
“I’m not ninety.”
“Give it another five years.”
Minho hefted the heavier box into the trolley before Seungmin could argue further.
Changbin had generously allowed them the use of his work van, borrowed for the sole purpose of avoiding delivery fees, and they loaded up the boxes together.
“I’m just going to take the trolley back and nip to the toilet, are you ok waiting in the van?” Minho asked. Seungmin got out the paperback he had in his coat pocket and waved it at him.
“Sure, take your time, I’m only halfway through!” He smiled and opened the book as Minho headed back to the shop with the empty trolley.
Back home, they struggled to manhandle the heavy boxes up the stairs to their flat, arriving at the door sweating and clammy. Between them though, they managed to get it into the flat – without letting the cat escape – and into the spare room, which doubled up as Minho’s office.
“Right, coffee first, then shelves?” Minho asked, rubbing his hands together.
“I can start getting it ready whilst you put the kettle on.” Seungmin offered, his hands itching to open the boxes and get the screws, nuts, and Allen keys out. For all of Minho’s proficiency in almost everything he tried, he really was not keen on putting furniture together, whereas Seungmin loved the logic of the flimsy paper instruction manuals.
While Minho went off to sort out the coffee, Seungmin set to work with methodical joy. He lined up the dowels like miniature soldiers and sorted the cam locks into neat metallic piles. The room quickly filled with the smell of laminated chipboard and polystyrene. He began to assemble the bookcase, bracing a heavy side panel with his knee while balancing the top beam into perfect alignment.
Seungmin squinted down at the instruction booklet again, trying to work out whether the tiny faceless person in the diagram was warning him about the shelf orientation or mourning beside a coffin. At that exact moment, Minho returned, the soft clink of the mugs announcing his arrival. He set the coffee on a nearby windowsill, safely away from the danger zone of loose screws, and immediately dropped to his knees on the carpet beside Seungmin.
"Alright, instruct me," Minho said, offering a resigned but fond smile as he picked up a stray dowel.
For the next twenty minutes, they fell into an easy, familiar rhythm. Seungmin called out the steps like a captain directing a ship, and Minho carried them out with careful, if slightly hesitant, precision. They braced the heavy frame together, their shoulders brushing as they tightened the final bolts.
It wasn't until Seungmin stood back to admire their handiwork that he noticed the issue. The middle shelf was entirely backwards, its raw particleboard edge facing proudly outward against the otherwise pristine white laminate. He let out a sudden bark of laughter, pointing at the mistake. Minho looked from the shelf to Seungmin, a look of comical despair washing over his face.
"Please tell me we don't have to take the whole thing apart."
"Just the top half," Seungmin grinned, handing Minho the Allen key. "Drink your coffee first."
They finally got the bookshelf made and upright and shuffled it into position against the wall. Seungmin grinned at Minho.
“Right, now I can get all my books onto it!” He turned and left the room, heading to the storage cupboard by the front door, where he had been keeping his books nice and tidy in boxes. Stopping to pet the cat, he managed to pick up two boxes of books and nudged the cupboard door shut with his hip. The boxes were perhaps a little bit too heavy, the cat a little bit too in the way, and he tripped over her as he returned to the spare room, swearing as he crumpled to the ground and banged his head on the box.
“Good grief, what on earth are you up to?” Minho emerged from the room and helped him to his feet. He inspected Seungmin for injuries, spotting a large egg forming on his forehead.
“Honestly, Seungmin. Come on, let’s get some ice on that.” Minho led him to the kitchen, sitting him down at the table and found a compress in the freezer, which he deftly applied to Seungmin’s head.
“Next time you’re trying to be superman, let me know, yeah?” Minho brushed Seungmin’s head with a kiss as he held the ice pack in place.
“Sorry. I was just excited. Those books have been hidden away for too long!” Seungmin said, wincing as the headache began to hit him.
“I think you need to sit down for a bit, ok? I’ll get the books through. Do you want me to get them onto the shelves too?” Minho asked him.
“Um, would you mind if I did that bit myself?” Seungmin replied. He had ideas about arranging his books in either colour or title order, and whilst he knew Minho would do a good job, it was really the bit of the new bookcase he was most excited about.
“Sure. You sit here and hold the ice pack in place; I’ll sort the boxes out.”
Minho left the room, and Seungmin could hear him marching back and forth until all the boxes were through.
Eventually, Minho fell silent, and as Seungmin’s head felt less throbbing, he wandered through to see what was going on.
He stopped in the doorway, mouth open. The stuffed dog sat squarely in the middle of the new bookshelf, slightly crooked between the empty shelves, its floppy ears hanging unevenly at either side of its head. Seungmin stared at it.
“You bought him?”
Minho, still crouched on the floor surrounded by spare screws and cardboard, didn’t look up.
“You were clearly emotionally attached.”
“You said I was too old for stuffed animals.”
“I said you were nearly 30. Which probably means your back is going to give out at any moment and you should take comfort where you can get it.”
The dog was objectively absurd. Its paws were too big, its expression unsettlingly vacant. Seungmin loved him immediately.
Minho finally glanced up.
“Oh good,” he said dryly. “You’ve bonded.”
Seungmin reached out and straightened one of the dog’s floppy ears.
“He needs a name,” he said quietly.
Minho snorted. “Of course he does.”
He turned back to the cardboard and spare screws on the floor while Seungmin stood there holding the ridiculous dog against his chest like something fragile.