onho; fluff

Minho is still laughing at his own joke, because he’s incredibly funny after all, and even got everyone to laugh. He’s stretching out on the waiting room couch, still giving a fit of giggles, and overall hyped up on work and lack of sleep.

Jinki falls into the cushions next to Minho, smiling wide and laughing tiredly himself. “It wasn’t that funny,” Jinki says, knowing what all the laughter is really about, still caught giggling himself.

Minho drops his head back against the couch, head rolling to find Jinki with a small smile, proud smile. “Then why are you still laughing?”

Jinki tries to cover his mouth with a hand, but his eye-smile gives everything away.

Minho’s eyes twinkle, sure he’s on his way to being a full fledged comedian, with a little more practice. When the rest of the bandmates lounging around the room laugh and point, commenting on how the scene played out, Jinki falls towards Minho, hands grabbing his cheeks and head leaning close, body soon shaking with playfulness at the pretending kiss. Minho’s long fingers scrape at Jinki’s sleeves, voice a squeaking laugh. It grows suddenly silent though.

Once Jinki sits back comfortably, Minho sits up straighter, eyes wide, bulging even, a telling sign if anyone paid attention. His dry lips press closed, arms subconsciously crossing in a guarded manner, trying not to overreact to something silly again. Jinki laughs nervously, smile wide and lips brushed with a thumb, shoulders bouncing as a subconscious distraction.

“Hyung..” Minho lightly shoves at Jinki’s shoulder, trying to smile while biting his lip.

Jinki laughs hard, hiding the fact that he slipped, smashing his mouth to Minho’s when neither were supposed to actually meet, it was all pretend after all. Minho was far too familiar with the whole situation, causing him to fidget even more, somehow suddenly insecure. He forces a loud laugh, drawing attention to himself needlessly.

Both make distance between each other, playing off their fake kiss turned real. Still, if anyone watched, they would see all their side-eyeing of each other, flirting fingers brushing down arms and thighs, smiles and blushing faces directed at each other.

—

Surely no one saw when the two slipped away to privacy days later, trying again, lips pressing together, maybe experimentally, but still purposefully this time. And when they parted, lips or brushed, eyes averted with sudden shyness, both were left silently wandering if they were onto something new and exciting. Or maybe just too tried to think straight, that was another working theory.

Jinki and Minho laugh hysterically in exhaustion, not sure where to go from here or say for themselves.