{ Chinese words that will be used in this fic:}
{ Gēgē = Older brother (like 'hyung') }
{ Wei = Hi / Hello (when answering the phone; same as "yeoboseyo" }
{ Xiao Hao Hao = Little Hao Hao (a nickname Jun gave to Minghao)}

This is for my best friend, who's as big of a Junhao shipper as I am.
Enjoy. ♡
 

Knock, knock.

Minghao quickly glanced towards the door before gently putting his pencil down besides his sketchbook. Lately, he had been drawing a lot; because of his back injury, he had to refrain activities with the group and stay home to rest. It’s when you stay at home all alone while the others are gone that you realize one thing: there’s too many things that could’ve been done in all that wasted time. He wished for his back to heal as quickly as possible so he can be back on track and continue promoting with the group.

Not only was he drawing a lot lately, but he wasn’t the only one. Mingyu was doing so, as well. Both were similar in some ways, but at the same time they were different. They would do a lot of things together but one could agree on something while the other disagrees. Despite their differences and little fights here and there, both were good friends and nothing could really change that.

“Yes?” Minghao spoke while moving his rolling chair back, gripping onto the sides to get up. Just as he was walking towards the door, he heard a voice mimicking his own, repeating the exact word Minghao said. He well knew that voice.

“Come in, loser,” he spoke in a dialect that only one person could understand: Junhui. The older snickered behind the door before walking in, carefully closing the door behind him.

“So mean,” Junhui replied in their native language, walking to Minghao’s bed. The younger noticed one thing: the bag of snacks the older was holding. Of course, he had to bring snacks with him.

“If I find one crumble in my bed, this will be the last time you’ll ever lie down in this bed,” Minghao tried to give the other a serious glare, only ending up smiling slightly as if he was defeated. “Seriously, though, do you know how not pleasant it is to lie down only to feel little crumbs on your back?” Junhui shrugged with a grin, looking down at his bag of snacks. He was already opening it. Minghao couldn’t believe him, sometimes.

The younger turned his head to the side to glance at his opened sketchbook. He reached for it and took a closer look at his sketch. His style was quite unique; realism wasn’t really his thing. Gently, his fingers slid down the paper to close the book but froze when he heard the older speak.

“Were you working on that just now?” Minghao nodded slightly, eyes still fixed on the paper. “Let’s see it, then.” Junhui’s tone was cute, warm. It’s like he never failed to make you feel safe, or reassured. And when he was curious? God, it was even cuter. Never failed to make Minghao warm inside, whatever mood he was in.

Minghao smiled softly, holding his sketchbook. He found it cute when the older asked him about his artwork. He never had to explain because Junhui made up his own thoughts and stories about it. He really liked the fact that two individuals could see things so differently.

He walked towards his bed and handed Junhui the sketchbook before sitting down beside him. While the older was looking at his sketch, Minghao moved a little to pull his soft blanket under Junhui’s back. He lifted his back nonchalantly, the corner of his lips curving a little into a smile at the same time Minghao wrapped himself with the blanket. He looked at the older after lying down comfortable, raising an eyebrow.

“What are you laughing at?” He spoke softly, causing Junhui to turn and look at him, the smile still very present on his face.

“Me? I’m just smiling. What are you saying?” The younger rolled his eyes and shook his head, ignoring his question. He remained silent and so did Junhui, who had already turned to look at the drawing once again. Minghao took a deep breath and closed his eyes, making the older look at him again before putting the sketchbook aside. “Tired?”

“Nah, you’re lame,” Minghao smiled up, the other smiling back. “And you eat too much.”

“But have you tried these? They’re tasty,” was the obvious response that he was expecting from him. He gave a chortle, moving his arm to snatch the bag from him. Junh