‘Let’s get you in the bath, shall we?’

Yixing is sitting in the bathtub, playing with bubbles like a five-year-old. It’s adorable honestly, but kind of strange to see a grown man like this. I asked him if he wanted me to leave, but he said he didn’t know what to do so I had to stay. My head is resting on my hands, my elbows on the side of the tub as I admire him.
He’s so beautiful. How can anyone be this beautiful? I swear he’s an alien or angel or something, because no man can look that good and be this pure.
Yixing has some bubbles in his hand and tries to poke them to see what it does. He is quite shocked when they burst.
‘These are so beautiful,’ he exclaims, ‘how do you call them?’
‘Bubbles,’ I tell him. He smiles brightly and takes a lot of them in his hands.
‘That sounds funny. Bubbles,’ he repeats and suddenly bites into the bubbles. My mouth forms an ‘o’ shape when I see his face change. He looks so disappointed.
‘They don’t taste as good as they look,’ he says. I rush to the sink to get him a glass of water. He downs it quite quickly when I hand it to him. My hand runs through his hair as he still looks a bit disgusted from the taste.
‘We don’t eat bubbles. Bubbles are made from soap and you can’t eat soap,’ I explain. He nods and goes back to playing with the bubbles. ‘I’ll wash your hair.’
‘Why do you wash my hair?’ he asks.
‘To get it clean, just like your body is getting clean in the bath now,’ I say to explain. He looks so focussed, trying to understand everything. It almost looks like every fiber of his being is anticipating in learning new things.
‘All done,’ I tell him, ‘are you ready to get out?’ He nods and stands up, trying hard not to slip like he almost did when he got in. The water level lowers quite a bit as his body is removed from the tub. He steps out and I hand him a towel, he wraps it around his waist like he always does and almost wants to walk out the bathroom, but I stop him.
‘You need to dry yourself,’ I tell him. He looks confused. I pull the towel from his waist and start at his shoulders. The towel slowly gets damp as I work my way down, trying to damn hard to not focus on his features, or what’s between his legs, or his muscles, or the confused look on his face. Dammit, he’s so cute. I hand him a pair of boxers when I’m done, which he puts on. That’s all he sleeps in, but I’m happy I got him that far at least. Because he still gets me in the bed to cuddle me, no matter what I do.
‘You go brush your teeth, I’ll go get changed,’ I tell him. He nods. That’s something he can do on his own, and since he learns so easily he’ll probably be able to do everything on his own in a few weeks. For some reason I’m happy about it, but also kind of sad. Maybe it’s because I’m not sure if he’ll stay here with me since I am slowly starting to get used to having him around.
He’s starting to feel like home.

‘Say Jimin, are you going out with us tonight?’ one of my co-workers asks. I shake my head.
‘Aish, what’s your reason this time?’ another o