onho; fluff

Minho swiped at a small fire on the stove with a towel, eyes wide and horrified at what he had caused. Filming a commercial sure made the pasta cooking look fairly simple, but in real practice, and on a time crunch, Minho nearly burnt the kitchen down, maybe the whole dorm if he hadn’t stopped the small fire in time. He stared at the mess, spinning slowly in the small kitchen to find nearly every surface dirtied with his hurried preparations. The free bag of pasta on filming just went to waste on his cooking skills.

He had been so close, but now…

Minho wrinkled his nose at the burnt and crispy mess of a pot. It didn’t even look like tv. Reality . It’s not like he’d never cooked – Minho even liked to think he was good at it, so why this time turned out a failure, he couldn’t quite tell. Maybe he could blame exhaustion and a frazzled mind. Or maybe-

Minho cringed as the door of the apartment opened and Jinki stumbled in like he had been expecting. 

Well, homemade dinner for just the two with the short amount of time they had alone together at the dorm was ruined. Jinki left his shoes and bag at the entry before stepping up into his home and following a certain smell. “What died?” Jinki asked as he neared the kitchen.

“My whole existence..” was the younger’s over-dramatic reply.

Jinki found Minho standing in the middle of a messy kitchen, colorful apron snuggly on. He blinked and glanced around, taking in the sight of a once clean kitchen gone bad. Stepping in, Jinki poked a few scattered vegetables in his mouth from the counter, moving closer to Minho. “No dinner?”

“I had one job…” Minho mumbled, fingers flicking at the band-aids over several other fingers, showing the slightest injuries.

“Huh?” Jinki asked, confused. He had never told Minho to make dinner, it was just out of the kindness of the younger’s heart, honestly. Even if there were no dinner, it was still sweet that the younger had the thought to try, even did, though unsuccessful in this attempt. Jinki pulled at Minho’s hand to find the band-aids on long fingers, assuming the younger cut himself with all his hard and rushed effort. He really had put too much into something so silly, he though. Especially just for Jinki, who wasn’t that special, right?

Jinki couldn’t hold back his growing smile. He stepped back behind Minho, arms wrapping around his middle and face peeking around the taller’s shoulder. “I wasn’t hungry anyway,” Jinki lied, stomach even betraying him with a growl. Hoping to lighten the mood, Jinki began gently tipping back and forth, getting Minho to also, a slow comforting dance of sorts. 

“Besides,” Jinki whispered with a grin into Minho’s clothed shoulder, “With the time we have alone I can think of better things..”

Minho laughed finally, hands reaching for Jinki’s still wrapped around him. “No whining and dining, eh?”

“Who has time for that?”

Minho’s brows lifted. “Not us.”

Jinki laughed, “Correct answer.”

Minho loosened up in Jinki’s warm hold, feeling better about his failure. Jinki always did that for him, somehow. One of the many things he fell in love with about the older and his unassuming ways.

Minho pulled away to turn and face Jinki now. With only a smile he held Jinki’s face, pulling the older into a soft kiss, silently thanking him. Jinki laughed cutely into it, hands reaching for Minho’s to squeeze them affectionately. 

Minho leaned back, hands dropping as Jinki yanked on his hips, signaling for them to get the show going because their time frame was only so long. Minho helped himself to pulling Jinki’s jacket off then begin ing a shirt he’s sure belonged to Kibum. Once again, like so many times lately, Minho commented, “You look really good.”

“Wait until you see me out of my clothes,” Jinki joked with eyebrows lifting, leaving Minho in a fit of laughter. 

Jinki started on Minho’s pants, leaving Minho to ask, “Apron.”

Without glancing up, Jinki answered, “Leave it on~.”

Minho’s eyes widened, hands reaching for Jinki’s. “Are you being a ert?”

Head lifting finally, Jinki’s cheeky grin faded slightly, eyes falling and cheeks heating, now self-conscious. “Maybe.” His hand pulled away from Minho, lifting to help express himself with fingers, “Just a little..”

Minho grabbed hold of both Jinki’s wrists again, eyeing the older closely, even feeling a little embarrassed at the thought of what Jinki was imply they do. Before Minho could get a real word in, Jinki dipped, yanking away from Minho’s loose hold and attempting to throw Minho over his shoulder, like all those romantic comedies.

Their life was anything but, so Jinki only making it several steps with Minho’s longer body over his shoulder before taking them both to the floor wasn’t unexpected. 

Jinki laughed harder at himself than Minho did, younger’s face instead squished to the hard floors.

—

Later that day, Minho cleaned the kitchen without an apron, since he had gone with Jinki’s erted wishes of getting off and screwed with it on still. That dirtied apron now lived hidden under Minho’s bed forever, or until a good trash day. Minho focused on cleaning his mess before the other’s got home, not wanting to leave it for them to clean, or worse groan at him about it.

Jinki stepped out in pajamas, hair a mess and eyes half-open. He spoke still half-asleep, “I’m hungry…”

“Hyung..” Minho whined, tired himself obviously. Sometimes Minho wanted to tell the older the difficulty of taking his - it was no walk in the park - as if that would somehow show him. Show him what, really? Either way, sore and tired, Minho made Jinki something to eat before he crashed himself because he couldn’t find a real ‘no’ for Jinki.