Scenario: See request here :) This did not turn out as expected. I’m sorry, anon, if it’s not what you hoped for, I got a little bit carried away! It’s also a bit short but, happy reading~

You and Minho have been friends long before he confessed his feelings for you, and you for him. The friendship have helped you cope with the many times he’s been away since the two of you got together. There will be periods of time, months, where you won’t get to see him and you’ve braced yourself for this. It never got easier each time, but you’ve gotten used to it to some extent.

So it was only natural for you to squeal out of your chair, out of the blue, in your office at work, when he texts you that long awaited I’m coming home, see you soon baby.

No more late night calls from where he’s at because it’s just the right time from where you’re at,

“I’m sorry, this time difference thing is a pain isn’t it?” Guilt washes over you, barely seeing his face as he sat in the darkness of his hotel room.

“I don’t mind. Besides, I get to see you.” His eyes disappears as he pull out a smile.

“What time is it there?” You ask quietly.

“Uhm, just past two…” You see him squint, the camera moves as he settles his phone against something, a wall presumably. He moves to one side, resting his face on both hands.

“In the morning?”

“Tell me about your day.” He murmurs, ignoring your question.

No more interrupted phone calls after his shows,

“Is the camera working? Hold on-” You were in bed, trying to figure out why Minho can’t see you. And when he finally does,

“Good god, look at you.” He smiles sheepishly, and you see him zoomed further out as he pulls his phone away to look at you from a distance.

“Minho-ah, get a room!” A pillow smacks Minho by his side, and you hear him let out a peeved groan. Was that Seungyoon?

“Where are you?” As you see the screen flash into a sudden blur before settling to focus on him again.

“Away from those idiots, that is.” Minho laughs, rubbing his face with one hand. Little that you know he was crouched, leaning against their hotel room corridor, pulling his hoodie over his head as he mutters a soft I wish you were here.

Or any other hardships that come hand in hand when the two of you are separated.

“Babe…”

“Hm? Why aren’t you asleep yet, don’t you have an early-”

“I can’t.”

“What is it?”

“I’d sleep much better, if you’re here.”

“Soon, Minho-ah. Keep your hands off yourself, aren’t you sharing a room with Seunghoon?”

“- way to kill the mood, I hate you.”

“I love you too, Pabo.” 

It was eight in the evening, which means that he’ll be here any minute now. You were barely sitting on the sofa, eyes never leaving the main door of your apartment.

The clock ticked, and it seemed like it was the only thing that you could hear. You stood up, pacing the living room as you bit your nails in efforts to calm your jittery nerves.

Why isn’t he here yet?

And you remember that one time where he had insisted he’ll arrive at a certain time, only that he’d forgotten to consider the time difference in between. Leaving you to wait out for him for hours, restless, in the car park of the god damn airport.

It must’ve been an hour or so, when you hear the familiar rattling sound of his keys and in an instant you sprinted across the room, grinning from ear to ear. Minho didn’t even get chance to see you for himself, when you jumped on him the second he pushed the door open. Baffled, he grabs your thighs that you had clipped around him, keeping the both of you balanced.

“H-hey!“

You feel his chest against yours as he laughs, tightening his arms around you. Minho could feel your smile against his neck, and his skin buzzed at the touch of yours. Even if he reeks hours and hours of airplane scent, you breathe in every bit of him restoring those parts of you that had missed him terribly.

You hear the sound of his bag hitting the floor, and you clung onto him tighter as he lets one arm off you to roll in his suitcase. Minho shifts to close the door shut with one foot, turning his face slightly to kiss that space behind your ears. Smiling to himself, pleased, feeling you melt under his grip.

“You’re not letting go, are you?”. The sound of his laughter swallows you up, and you can’t help but giggle, shaking your head, still burried in the hook of his neck. You pull away to get a good look at him, and you stiffle a timid hi. He retorts by locking his lips to yours, kissing you and again and again. Smiling into the softness of your lips, smiling because it finally feels like home.

Your fingers grazed the nape of his firm neck, up to his hair and you realize that he’d shave the entire thing, except for the top part that he grew out. The last time you saw him, he was well… bald. Then he had left for his tour, only to be informed by photos of him online that he’d bleached it blonde. Honestly no one knew why, except Minho and the lord himself. Soon after, his roots had peeked in, prompting him to just get rid of the sides and left the remaining yellow clump at the top of his head alone. The helmet head joke went on for about a week by then. You let out a chuckle, because this one seemed the most civilized out of all.

“What’s so funny?” Settling you down as he looks at you, lost as a puppy.

“Your hair… I feel sorry for it. It must have gone through a lot, what a whole lotta ups and downs.” You say, patting his hair in sympathy. “Ya- just how did you sleep through that flight? How is it this puffy?” Minho couldn’t help but smile like a fool, hearing that laugh of yours he’d grown accustomed to.

“I’ve missed you too.”