Ship: Chansol

Prompt: Can I request Chansol with Chan being unintentionally adorable. Like, he points
out houses (Wouldn't it be nice to live there together?) and kids (That would be such a cute little kid to raise together.) to Hansol randomly.

Author’s note: it is literally the worst idea to keep writing at 11:30 why do i keep doing this

Also the title is from 20 like 'I wanna be your (morning baby)'

“Walk with me.”

They slip away from the rest of the group, hands intertwining as they leave the dorms. Hansol inhales the sweet scent of summer and smiles.

“It’s real nice out.”

“Mhm.” Mesmerized by the greenness of the trees, Chan stops and stares. “It’s pretty.”

“C’mon, silly.” Hansol bops him on the nose, laughing as Chan scrunches up his face. “Let’s keep walking.”

“Where are we going?” Chan asks, a slight bounce in his step.

“The park,” Hansol says. “The trees are even nicer there.”

“Hannie?”

“Yes?”

“Is there ice cream there?”

“Of course. We can get some if you want.”

“Hmm…”

“Chan,” Hansol says impatiently. “Why do you keep stopping?”

“Isn’t that house nice?”

“Erm.” Hansol stops trying to nudge Chan forwards. “Which one?”

“Mmm… that one!” Chan points at a quaint little two-story house. It’s beige-y and cozy-looking and is glowing with light.

“It looks pretty, dearest.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to live there in a few years?” There’s something strange and wistful about Chan’s voice. “When members start going solo and we have more time?”

“We?” Hansol swallows, heart beating a little quicker. “As in, you and me?”

“Who else would I live with?” Chan beams, teeth shining out in two cutely crooked little rows, and Hansol feels himself falling all over again. He wraps an arm around Chan, lips quirking pleasedly when Chan snuggles against his side.

“It would be very nice, dearest.” Hansol feels the nickname curling off his tongue naturally. “Now, let’s keep moving, yeah? We should make it to the park and back before sundown, and I have to show you something.”

Hansol starts walking again and Chan moves with him obediently, but not without reluctance.

“What are you going to show me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“How much farther is the park?”

“Not far. Why? Are you cold?”

“...Just a little,” Chan mumbles, and Hansol pulls him close, enjoying the height difference as Chan’s head comes to rest on his shoulder.

“C’mon. We can make it.”

Chan giggles. “You’re speaking English again.”

“Sorry.” Hansol grins. “Now, c’mon.”

They step into the park five minutes later. Chan’s eyes grow wide.

“Wow! That’s pretty!”

Hansol laughs and shushes him, and the two boys walk over to a pretty little sapling. Its leaves are golden but flushing green, and Chan’s expression fills with awe.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful, Hansol. Thank you.” Chan’s voice is sincere and sweet, and Hansol has to clear his throat and look away to stop the fluttering in his chest.

“Hey, where’d the honorifics go, brat?” Hansol tries to inject some sternness into the words, but it ends up coming out with a playful lilt.

“I thought we were close enough for that to not be a problem,” Chan teases right back.

“You’re right for once, brat,” Hansol chuckles. “Hey, we should be getting back soon.”

“Hansollie,” Chan pouts. “I want ice cream.”

“You were shivering a couple of minutes ago,” Hansol protests halfheartedly, resolve already crumbling under Chan’s pleading eyes. “I’m not letting you get sick.”

“Hansol-lie,” Chan whines softly, and Hansol gives in to his instinct.

“Fine. But if you get sick, don’t blame me!”

“Thank you~” Chan sings, nearly skipping to the ice cream booth. The lineup is almost empty, save for a mother and her little child.

“Taesun, what do you want?”

“Red bean, please!”

“Alright. One red bean popsicle, please, sir.”

“Here you go. Have a nice day.”

“Thank you. Taesun, darling, what do you say?”

“Thank you, mister ice cream guy!”

Hansol catches the soft smile on Chan’s face and the flicker of something in his eyes before it’s washed away.

“Two mango sorbets, please.”

“Here you go. Enjoy your treats.”

“Thank you.” Hansol pockets the change and takes both of the sorbets, passing one to Chan.

“Thank you,” Chan echoes absentmindedly, and somehow it feels like Chan isn’t there with Hansol as much as he was.

“What’s wrong?” Hansol asks softly as they walk away, coins jangling in the pocket of his jeans.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to raise a kid like that?” Chan murmurs.

“You mean…” Hansol’s heart does another weird flip. “Together?”

“Of course together,” Chan says, and suddenly he’s there again, bright smile breaking through the quickly darkening evening. “We’d live in that house. We’d raise a couple of kids. Doesn’t it sound nice?”

“It does, baby.” Hansol runs his hand through Chan’s hair, trying to stop his heart from thumping so loudly against his ribcage. “It sounds lovely. We’ll wait a few years first, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Chan giggles. “Your hand is cold.”

Hansol withdraws it with a playful scowl. “Brat.”

“You know you love me.”

“I do.”