an affinity for sweets

an affinity for sweets

(just a drabble)

Watching as Minseok stirs the whipped cream of his latte, Lu Han ponders to himself what is more enticing: the cuteness of Minseok's face/actions/everything or the fact that a bit of that whipped cream lashed out of the cup from Minseok stirring too fervently―which is weird yet too typical of the baby-faced elder, who usually seemed calm and cool except when it came to things like...food.

Before Minseok even has a chance to set down his cup and stirring straw to wipe at his face, Lu Han brushes the back of his index against the cheek, taking longer than necessary, as Lu Han enjoys the smooth, supple feel of Minseok's cheek, (and the touch feels even softer than the cream, Lu Han thinks) to clear off the dollop of cream that stuck there.

The man with a cup of coffee in his hands couldn't even give so much as a glance before Lu Han promptly stuck that very same finger in his mouth. When Minseok's eyes grew nearly twice their size, Lu Han smiled, observing the ridiculousness of Minseok's expression and how his eyebrows raise questioningly.

"Um―" Minseok starts to say, "what was―"

"Sweet," Lu Han cuts him off, "That was sweet."

Minseok blinks a few times before he says, "I know, but why did you―"

"I wasn't talking about the cream, " Lu Han hints, as he reaches over once again to caress the knuckles of his fingers against the soft of Minseok's cheek, who glances over to it, confused as to what Lu Han is doing. When Minseok regains enough comprehension to realize that Lu Han is touching him again (a habit that Lu Han found too natural for Minseok's liking), he sets down his cup of caramel latte to politely remove Lu Han's hand.

Blinking at Lu Han, Minseok tries to ask, "Was that the hand that you just―"

"Shh..." Lu Han silences him, gently pressing that very same finger against the middle of Minseok's lips, satisfied that they were the only two in the room, as Lu Han decided to wake up early for once to watch Minseok brew a fresh pot of coffee and thoroughly sanitize the mess of a kitchen after Kris' dinner experiment last night. (Most of the pots and dishes were cleared last night, but now in the daylight, Minseok could see random spots here and there, so he broke out his arsenal of cleaning supplies to finish the job.) "Baozi," Lu Han whispers into the curve of Minseok's tiny ear, and receives a sinful pleasure when the tip of that ear turns cherry pink.

Minseok pouts, because he hates when Lu Han calls him that to (which is usually always) and wants to remove the finger pressed onto his lips, irritated that Lu Han won't even let him finish a single sentence before hastily cutting him off with his own wor―

Yet even that thought can't complete itself as Lu Han leans down a little too far, a little too close, and (ever so) quickly slips away that finger just in time so that their lips meet for a brief moment, until Minseok realizes what is happening and retreats his head, nearly knocking the back against the wall behind him, covering the lower half of his face with the back of his palm, suddenly feeling how the blood begins rushing to his cheeks, how the heat resonating from them has now spread to the gentle creases of his forehead (how sweat must be in the process of forming at his brow), how the air choking at his throat must inevitably be hindering the oxygen to flow properly to his brain.

Disappointment is clearly clogging the pores of Lu Han's face as he frowns, pursing his lips, and regret soon joins the sentiment as he notices the alarm dancing around his Minseok's eyes (but he barely manages to notice the rosy tint surfacing on fair cheeks) while the smaller man is backed up into the opposite corner of the couch. He didn't mean to scare him―it was supposed to be playful.

Realizing his failure in capturing Minseok, Lu Han tilts his gazes down (Minseok starts feeling guilty for acting so harshly and sits up) and sighs before he says, "Sorry, I shouldn't have. It's just that―"

"No, don't apologize. I didn't mind. I was just―surprised is all." Minseok draws a weak smile, and Lu Han glances back up, mouth agape, wondering if those words were perhaps another way of inviting him to do it again.

Wanting to take the risk of the possibility of that invitation, the all-too-eager Lu Han edges himself closer to Minseok's face, and when the man with flushed cheeks closes his eyes (the flutter of Minseok's eyelashes makes Lu Han's heart skip a beat) and doesn't retreat his head even an inch, Lu Han can't control the urge to attack Minseok down to the cushions, slender arms tightly embracing the precious body as if it were to slip away at any given moment, mouth working persistently to choke out the protests from the other's to take it easy (which eventually worked because Minseok drowned into the caress of Lu Han's tongue).

Minseok doesn't open his eyes until after a couple of seconds have passed when Lu Han is finished, and his sight is greeted by the fall of blonde bangs perfectly framing that bright face along with expressive eyes that crinkled just a little at the side as they always did when paired with a smile of any type or size (this particular type was of loving satisfaction). As Minseok blinks prettily up at Lu Han, that smile grows wider as he gazes tenderly right back.

When Lu Han moves his hand to brush up against the plateau of Minseok's forehead, his eyelids find themselves closing once more, as Lu Han plants a kiss there before snuggling himself into the curve of Minseok's neck, gently kissing him there, too.

"The cream was actually very sweet," Lu Han finally says, after Minseok turned his attention back to the now-cooled cup of caramel latte. Upset about the matter with the drink (but he was still going to drink it anyway because Minseok is not wasteful), he merely side-eyes the other as he takes a sip.

"But," Lu Han waits until Minseok is finished taking a sip before dragging a finger along the underside of Minseok's chin (so that they now faced each other), "you taste much sweeter."

Lu Han only smiles and gently pats the other man's back when Minseok presses at his chest, fighting back the impulse to spit out the contents of his drink in response.

I just wanted to write a little fluff. ;u; Because I had a frappucino this evening, and it's still sitting there on my desk ominously expectantly (but I need to go to bed, so no.)