Minho turned off the water and put the last dish to dry, bracing himself against the counter as he hung his head.

What now?

It had been a nice dinner and Minho had smiled more than he had this past week, warm and content and stress-free. Jinki hadn’t returned yet, and Jonghyun said he would stay until he did, but Minho really wished he wouldn’t leave even then. They could watch a movie or something. He just wanted to feel at peace for a little while longer.

He took a breath and straightened up. Then he pulled out a packet of cocoa powder and two cups, put them on the counter, and went to the living room, where he had forced Jonghyun to wait while he cleaned up. The TV was on but as he rounded the couch he found Jonghyun curled up in a corner, head on the armrest and chest rising and falling in the telltale deep breaths of sleep.

He paused, watching the way Jonghyun's soft looking hair glowed a little in the dim light, how his fingers twitched lightly and his legs pulled in closer too keep him warm, and shook his head, not realising he had a small smile on his lips until he sighed. The hot chocolate would have to wait then, he thought as he made his way over to his room, found a quilt in the closet and went back to the living room to lay it over Jonghyun. Then he carefully sat down in the other corner of the couch, put the TV on mute and flipped through channels until he found a program he could tolerate, settling deeper into the cushions.

The even breaths of Jonghyun coming from the other end of the couch quickly lulled him closer to sleep and it didn’t take long before his eyelids drooped. Minho hadn’t even realized he was as tired as he suddenly felt, but he guessed he should have known. He hadn’t slept well ever since Taemin's accident. The last time he could remember actually sleeping for at least seven hours straight – as compared to two or three – was…

His closed eyes snapped open again and he looked at Jonghyun's curled up form.

The last time was that night Jonghyun had showed up on his doorstep, damp, hesitant, warm, soft. His guardian angel.

Minho swallowed and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling.

He knew what the little spark in his chest was. He’d felt it years ago for the first time when he looked at a laughing Taemin trying to eat melting ice cream, his hair sun bleached and his skin tanned.

His eyes closed again.

Yet, this spark was something completely different. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but instinctively he knew there was a difference in his love for Taemin and this interest in Jonghyun. It irked him he couldn’t figure it out as he fought not to doze off.

Soft fingers in his hair woke him up. He didn’t remembering having fallen asleep. It felt as if he had simply closed his eyes for a second and then suddenly he was in a completely different position, lying on his back with his head in what he could only assume was Jonghyun's lap.

He opened his eyes slowly to peer up at Jonghyun, whose gaze was stuck on the mute TV. He must have felt Minho looking because his eyes dropped down to meet his, surprise registering in them, and his fingers stilled.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said softly, his cheeks turning pink. “Y-you tipped over in my lap while sleeping and I just didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”

Minho made a noncommittal sound and closed his eyes again, the same peace, which had filled him the first time he’d woken up with Jonghyun beside him, blooming in his chest.

“I-I’ll move… if you want,” Jonghyun said, voice small and uncertain as he shifted underneath him to stand up.

“I like this,” Minho found himself mumbling and heard Jonghyun in a breath, freezing to his spot.

He should probably not have said that, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care enough to correct it at the moment. Because, really, it was true.

“Uh… okay, then…” Jonghyun answered and settled back into the cushions. It took a few long seconds before his fingers found Minho's hair again.

It should feel wrong, Minho thought as he opened his eyes to stare up at him again, watching him concentrate on the TV screen. Should being the operative word; because it felt like nothing other than the way it was meant to be. As if the Big Bang, stars taking form, galaxies and solar systems coming together and planets aligning all led up to this moment, this short, little timeframe in the small bubble that held Jonghyun and Minho in the present, ready to burst and send them scattering with its mist if anyone dared to poke it.

Minho didn’t.

Jonghyun glanced back down at him and their eyes caught. For a second Minho could see his own thoughts reflected back at him and was enthralled by the warm fondness in his gaze. He was almost certain Jonghyun was seconds away from leaning down and kissing him, and he found he had no desire to move away. This was their little bubble. Everything inside it was okay. Nothing hurt. They were safe.

Then the door opened and Jinki announced his arrival, popping the bubble and breaking the moment.

Minho shot up and scooted back to his end of the couch, leaving a blushing Jonghyun on the other end as dread washed over him.

He had just thought about kissing Jonghyun. He shouldn’t want to kiss Jonghyun. He wanted to kiss Taemin. He loved Taemin.

“Hey guys!” Jinki greeted cheerfully, interrupting his inner turmoil as he appeared in the doorway to the living room. “Is there any dinner left for me or did you eat it all?”

They both squirmed a little in their seats, not looking at each other.

“Uh, w-we saved some for you,” Jonghyun stammered and Jinki paused, a confused frown creasing his forehead as he glanced between them.

“Right,” he said slowly, looking suspicious. “Well, I’m starving so I’ll just… eat.”

Minho quickly got to his feet. He needed to get away from Jonghyun. He couldn’t let himself be dragged back into their bubble.

No, not their bubble. There was nothing about Jonghyun and him that was their, or they, or them.

“I’ll keep you company,” he said a little too hastily.

Jinki raised his eyebrows at him, but thankfully refrained from making a comment on it as he shrugged and turned towards the kitchen, Minho at his heels. Jonghyun was seconds behind them, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt nervously, not looking at either of them as he cleared his throat.

“I need to go,” he announced, giving them both a quick glance. “I need to get back to the hospital.”

Minho swallowed and nodded, making no move to see him to the door. Jinki shot him an unreadable look before turning to Jonghyun.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” he said. “Thank you for tonight, though.”

Jonghyun nodded and sent him a small smile.

“I’ll see myself out,” he said, still refusing to look at Minho. “I hope you like what we made.”

Then he left, the door falling shut with a soft ‘click’ after some shuffling in the hall.

“Is it just me,” Jinki started as Minho went to bring the food out of the fridge, “or are you two acting like I just caught you in the act or something?”

Minho's face grew hot and his chest tightened. He shot Jinki a scowl over his shoulder, trying to hide the spark of panic in his stomach.

“You didn’t catch us doing anything,” he muttered. “I just woke up from falling asleep.”

Jinki hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the two cups and packet of cocoa powder, but remained silent for the rest of the evening, continuing to send contemplative looks in Minho's direction.

During the week that followed, Minho tried to keep a distance from Jonghyun. It wasn’t working so well, however, and he found himself unable to stop looking at him whenever they were in the same room – which, thanks to Jinki, was a lot, since he decided Jonghyun should eat dinner with them every night. It scared him that Jonghyun had such an impact on him. It wasn’t right. He’d only known Jonghyun for about two weeks and he’d loved Taemin for years.

And yet, he couldn’t stop the warm, softness that spread through his chest whenever he was close to Jonghyun, and he couldn’t stop wondering why he had never felt it so strongly with Taemin either. Because he did love Taemin. More than anything.

So why was this thing with Jonghyun so different?

Why did Minho suddenly find himself telling Taemin all about him whenever he visited instead of talking about unimportant things like he used to? Why was he thinking about him when he lay in bed at night?

Why did Jonghyun have to be Minho's guardian angel?

~*~

Something had happened that night last week at Minho's. Jonghyun was sure of it, because Minho had become more hesitant and withdrawn than usual, watching Jonghyun as soon as they were in the same room as if he could explode at any moment. He still talked to him at least, but there was something in his eyes that was different. Sometimes his expression would be thoughtful and intense, and other times it would be completely unreadable And sometimes he even looked afraid. Maybe it was because Jonghyun had nearly given into the urge to kiss him and scared him away.

Yeah, that sounded like the problem.

But he had been so comfortable and relaxed. It had been as if they were in their own little bubble, safe from the world where nothing could hurt them as long as they had each other. He was almost sure Minho had felt the same way, but the more time passed and the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if he might have been wrong.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, stopping outside the entrance to Minho's apartment building.

It had become a thing that Jonghyun ate dinner with Jinki and Minho over the past week. Jinki had learned he always ate alone – if he did at all – and had somehow managed to coax him into eating dinner with them every night. It was kind of nice, being with people his age, and his grandmother had encouraged him to do it once he told her, stating he needed to stop wasting his time in the hospital.

Jinki's invitation had even extended to Kibum, who Jonghyun had yet to introduce to them.

Kibum had been a little suspicious, but agreed to come when he found the time, if only to keep an eye on Jonghyun. This was actually the first night he would be able to join them for dinner, and Jonghyun couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. His friend had made it clear exactly what he thought of Minho – which was a manipulative, selfish jerk – and Jonghyun could only hope he would at least be somewhat friendly. Knowing Kibum, though, it was more likely he would speak his mind rather than keep his mouth shut.

He sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening that the night wouldn’t end up crashing and burning and made his way up the stairs, glad that at least he would have some time without worrying before Kibum came, since he hadn’t finished his shift yet.

Just as he was about to press the doorbell the door opened and both he and Jinki jumped, choking on a gasp.

“Oh, Jonghyun!” Jinki laughed once he’d caught his breath. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Jonghyun grinned at him.

“It’s fine,” he chuckled. “I scared you too.”

Jinki stepped aside to let him in before exiting.

“I have to go buy some lettuce since Minho forgot to put it on the shopping list.” He rolled his eyes. “There’s a pot of stew boiling on the stove and Minho's supposed to watch it, but he’s caught up in some papers from work.”

“I’ll watch it,” Jonghyun reassured.

“Thank you,” Jinki sighed. “I’ll be right back.”

They gave each other a wave and the door closed. Jonghyun took a deep breath, toeing off his shoes and pulling off his knitted beanie. He needed to steel himself for a moment to gather enough courage to face Minho before he rounded the corner to the kitchen.

Minho sat at the table, one hand buried in his hair and the other tapping a bullpen against a paper. There were documents scattered across the table and markers in different colours strewn here and there.

Jonghyun smiled a little.

“Hey,” he murmured and Minho's head shot up.

He looked at him for a moment, the expression that had been present for the past week and that Jonghyun couldn’t quite name on his face. Jonghyun wasn’t sure what to make of it, and he didn’t dare ask. He was still quite sure it had to do with the almost kiss, though.

“Hi,” Minho answered, voice rough.

Jonghyun swallowed and resisted the urge to pull his fingers through Minho's hair to smooth out the places where it stuck up, widening his smile.

“You’re supposed to watch the stew, you know,” he teased.

Minho frowned and looked over his shoulder at the pot.

“Right,” he muttered, turning back with a worried look. “It’s not burnt, is it?”

Jonghyun laughed and shrugged, making his way over to lift the lid and check.

“It’s fine,” he informed him, picking up the spoon laying by the stove and stirring.

He glanced back over at Minho and chuckled at his relieved expression.

“Jinki would have killed me if I’d let it burn since your friend’s coming over,” Minho sighed. “He wants to make a good first impression.”

Jonghyun bit his lip and grimaced at the pot. Jinki might make a good first impression on Kibum, but he was still unsure what would happen with his friend and Minho.

Silence fell as Minho returned to doing whatever he was doing and Jonghyun deemed it safe to leave the stew for a while to bring out plates, bowls, and glasses, and place them on the kitchen island. Minho looked up at the clatter and Jonghyun had to suppress a laugh.

“What?” Minho asked.

“You have a mark on your forehead,” Jonghyun couldn’t help but chuckle.

Minho's frown deepened and he grumbled, trying to rub at the ink on his forehead. Jonghyun failed to keep his laughter down as he completely missed the mark, and tried to direct him on where it was.

The ink didn’t want to come off, however, it only smeared into a bigger blot. Jonghyun resorted to grabbing a kitchen towel and wetting it before approaching Minho. Minho's eyes widened when Jonghyun reached out to cup his jaw and lift his face up towards the light, taking another step closer.

“Here,” he said softly, all laughter leaving him as butterflies filled his stomach, sending tingles through his nerves.

Minho stiffened for a few seconds while Jonghyun tried to rub away the ink, continuing to stare up at him with wide eyes. Jonghyun couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze and the butterflies intensified as he leaned in closer to inspect if the ink was coming off. He knew he was crossing a line – like that night when he’d let Minho continue sleeping on his lap – what with him standing between Minho's open knees, so close he could feel their body heat mingling.

His face grew hotter the more time passed – the ink was very persistent – but he pretended that nothing was out of order. Minho's gaze never left his face and Jonghyun was too scared he would do something he couldn’t undo if he met his eyes.

When the mark was gone, he reluctantly pulled back to check the rest of Minho’s stupidly handsome face for more ink marks.

He forgot all about it when his eyes accidentally locked with Minho's piercing gaze and he stilled, staring back in silence.

Time slowed as he saw the same emotion in Minho's eyes he had that night he’d almost kissed him. It was as if they both were thinking the exact same thing again. As if they were in their bubble and nothing mattered or existed, except them.

And nothing stopped him this time as he leaned in slowly and tentatively to press his lips against Minho's in a soft kiss.

To his relief Minho didn’t pull back or even flinch, which Jonghyun had half expected. He just simply continued to sit in his chair, kissing back hesitantly. Jonghyun's heart beat faster in his chest and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, not one to deny a chance given to him.

A muffled, surprised noise escaped him as Minho's warm hands came up to rest on his hips, pulling him in closer so that they now were pressed against each other. Jonghyun gasped against his lips, his arms resting on Minho's shoulders lightly as his hands moved up into his hair. Minho made a small noise – out of content or something else, Jonghyun didn’t know – and pressed his fingers into the small of his back, hugging him even closer as his lips parted a little. Jonghyun gave him a soft peck, his arms moving down to wrap around Minho's neck, and he shivered as fingertips grazed his skin just beneath the hem of his shirt.

Jonghyun thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest, his hands starting to tremble and his legs turning to jelly. He couldn’t believe what was happening. He had wanted to do this for so long and it was better than anything he could have imagined. A small voice in the back of his head warned him that this was a mistake, Minho loved Taemin, but Jonghyun was too gone to give it any consideration.

The sound of keys rattling in the lock forced them to spring apart. Jonghyun stumbled as he moved out of Minho's embrace, cold at the loss of his touch. They stared at each other blankly as the door opened and Jinki's cheerful voice announced his return.

Jonghyun quickly gathered himself, drying his moist lips with the back of his hand, and took a deep breath, trying to make the blush creeping up his face go away. Minho swallowed harshly and smoothed down his hair – which Jonghyun's fingers had messed up even more – just as Jinki entered the kitchen. He stopped in his steps, looking between the two of them curiously.

“Is the stew okay?” he asked after a moment of heavy silence and Jonghyun let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, throwing a nervous glance at Minho who refused to meet his eyes. “I think so.”

Jonghyun swallowed as Jinki glanced between them again, thoughtful. But apparently he decided not to comment since he shrugged and went to rinse the lettuce he’d bought.

Jonghyun looked at Minho again, who was now staring intently at his papers, and a painful pang hit his chest. He took a small, shuddering breath and returned to the stove to check the stew again, the silence in the kitchen heavy as no one really knew what to say.

Minho excused himself after a few, long minutes, gathering his papers and pens, and bolted from the kitchen. Jinki gave Jonghyun another thoughtful look, looking like he wanted to ask but unsure how to even begin.

“So, how’s your grandmother?” he said after opening and closing his mouth a few times.

“Uhm,” Jonghyun cleared his throat, staring down at the pot. “I’m not sure. She’s had a cold for almost two weeks and the doctors keep telling me she’ll be fine, but…”

“You never know,” Jinki filled in and Jonghyun nodded.

Silence fell again and Jonghyun thought he’d get away with what had happened until Jinki stopped rinsing the lettuce and sighed deeply.

“Jonghyun,” he started gravely. “Minho, he… might not be thinking straight right now.”

Jonghyun bit his lip and dread fell like a heavy stone in his stomach.

“I know,” he murmured. “I know he loves Taemin. But I can’t stop myself.” He laughed humourlessly. “I’m such an idiot.”

Jinki smiled sadly, starting to say something else but was interrupted by the doorbell.

“That’s probably Kibum,” Jonghyun said, trying not to sound relieved at the interruption. “Should I go get it?”

Jinki nodded and Jonghyun wasted no time getting out of the kitchen.

He was sure it was going to be a long night.

A/N: I'm not sure about this chapter, it feels like crap ;__; I don't know what it is, I'm just not feeling confident about it

I hope you liked it at least?

Love<3