Prompt: “You don’t like snuggling or a lot of touching but when you’re asleep you’re a cuddler for better or for worse.”

Minho is a very affectionate person. Anyone that knows him would admit to this, no questions asked. Often times, you would see him clinging onto his friends, curled up on someone’s lap, or attached to their hip like gum. Basically he’s everywhere when he loves you and personal space is definitely not in his dictionary.

And so it was almost impossible for him to adjust his ways around you, since you hated unnecessary touching especially in public. It irritated him how he couldn’t show you off as much as he wanted to. Every time he reasons you with this, you’d snort in response because really, it was just to make it clear that you were off limits to anyone else but him.

Nevertheless, Minho insists on clamping you onto his lap whenever he sees the chance and you’d fight back discreetly with a forced smile on your face. His strength would be no match to yours which would lead to the both of you having a hushed scuffle. With you struggling to get off him and him casually pinning you down firmly on his thighs, arms around your waist.

“Minho, will you please–” You hiss under your breath, pushing your hands on his shoulders as you try to get up, “People are looking, Minho-ah.”

“My point exactly.” He grins cheekily, leaning in to rest his cheek on your arms. You feel him tense up after some time with a rather awkward smile on his face. “Will you stop moving so much?”

“Let me go then.” You glare at him, swatting his hand that gripped on your thighs.

“I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean–” You laugh dryly and you catch his clenched jaw, dropping his head down as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Minho–”

“I can’t.” He gulps, his playful tone disappearing in a flash as he looks at you, serious this time.  

“Why not?” You narrow your eyes at him still clueless to his sudden change of mood. Increasingly annoyed, you shift on his lap once more only to stop immediately once you feel what he had meant.

“Really– really?!” Out of all times, out of all situations– “Well, you asked for it.”

The two of you stayed that way throughout the entire time of that house party, glued to each other in all sorts of frustrations.

Since then Minho had pretty much learned his lesson and if he’d forgotten, you didn’t hesitate to remind him of it. He could bear the embarrassment but keeping his hands off you, when he needed you– was driving him crazy.

Yet there was an exception to this invisible rule and this was when you’re asleep, passed-out-completely-oblivious-to-everything type of asleep. This was because you were the complete opposite, all kinds of cuddly and Minho wonders if you were the same person. When the time finally comes, he’d always imagined to be the big spoon in the relationship but– wrong.  The first time it happened, it caught him so much by surprise he was convinced that he slept with the stupidest smile plastered on his face. He had felt the bed dip close to his side only to realize that you had rolled over to face him. Not long after, your arm s across his torso and your legs in between his followed after. His eyes flew open and he was frozen for a good minute or two, trying to sink in the fact that it wasn’t a dream.

Minho was never a morning person but surely this wasn’t the case when it’s you that he wakes up to. As if all the cuddling you were occupied with the entire night wasn’t enough, he finds you nuzzled on by his side, hair all over his face but he didn’t mind. Not when you’re practically stuck to him, tangled legs and warm skin.

He definitely was a morning person then. The complete denial on your face when he confronts you about your sleeping habits and what possessed you to be looking for him that way. He’d joked about spending time only when you’re asleep and skip the rest which earned him a smack to the side.

“Stop making things up, Minho!” You mutter peevishly as you brush past him and he still finds you adorable even with a bed head.

“I’m not! If anything, you’re much more lovable when you’re asleep.” A hoarse laugh escapes him, inching back as you turn back to him.

“And I hate you.”

“If that was you hating me last night, then hate me all you want.” He smiles sheepishly, “I can’t imagine how you’d love me then.”

~