Rating: G
Words: 560

Minseok’s hair has been pink for a while now.

He dyed it for the most recent comeback, and somehow, through all the promotions and concerts and photoshoots, it hasn’t found time to become any other colour. Normally, by now, it would have been bleached and re-dyed a different shade, but here they are three weeks later and Minseok’s hair is still pink.

Luhan realises this one evening when Minseok’s head is pillowed in his lap, Luhan’s fingers absently combing themselves across the soft skin behind his ear and down over the back of his neck.

He scratches through Minseok’s hair and watches the way it parts, observes the flicker of individual strands over his fingers with each pass of his hand. The colour is more intense towards the base; it’s faded, he realises, at the tips. He his hand through again and watches the ripple of coral to magenta, and then the line where the pink abruptly stops and becomes black.

Luhan runs a fingertip along that line. It’s about as wide as his finger, which means it’s probably only a matter of days before the whole thing gets bleached out and turned purple or red or green. Luhan suddenly feels a little sad about that. There’s something about the gradient of Minseok’s hair that is so incredibly endearing. Luhan wishes he could take a picture of it, and in the same moment wishes he could explain why it feels important enough to capture.

“You’ve got regrowth,” he murmurs, in lieu of any of this.

Minseok does not respond.

“What colour do you think you’ll do next?” Luhan continues. “I thought you looked really good blonde. Maybe red or something?” Nothing will ever be as beautiful as this pink.

When Minseok still doesn’t answer, Luhan carefully leans forward to peer over at his face.

Minseok is fast asleep. His hand is sandwiched between his cheek and Luhan’s jeans, his mouth open, breathing softly as dreams flicker through his eyelashes. As Luhan watches, his lips purse, a frown creasing in between his eyebrows, and he gives a little snuffle.

Luhan smiles. With one careful finger, he brushes a spare strand of hair back off Minseok’s forehead so it won’t tickle him any more. Minseok’s nose twitches and he relaxes with a sigh, and Luhan’s heart gives a little throb.

“Come on,” he murmurs, “I think it’s bedtime.”

He gently slides out from under Minseok and scoops him up into his arms. Minseok mumbles and turns to press his face into Luhan’s shoulder, his hand coming up to grasp sleepily at the fabric of his shirt, and Luhan can’t resist ducking his head to kiss Minseok’s forehead. He creeps out of the living room and along the hall to Minseok’s bedroom.

Jongdae is already asleep in the other bed, so Luhan doesn’t turn on the light. He pulls off Minseok’s shoes and eases him in under the covers, and then, after a moment of hesitation, kicks off his own jeans and slides in beside him. He gathers Minseok into his arms and kisses the top of his head, delighting in the comfortable little murmur he receives in return.

Luhan closes his eyes and smiles. Nothing ever feels as safe as holding Minseok to his heart like this.

When Luhan falls asleep, it is with his lips pressed to Minseok’s pink hair.

-

A/N: What? Fluff? When have I ever done that before??

So when I say fifty shades... I mean fifty shades. Fifty chapters of this, my friends. Hold on to your hearts, it's gonna be fluffy and (inevitably) ty.

Enjoy! - JJY