Chapter Text
“Hyung, have you seen Dori?” Minho cries from the kitchen, his voice laced with unmistakable distress. (Unmistakable, because this is Lee Minho. He’s rarely, if ever, distressed).
Yet Chan is too sleepy to pay him proper attention. He rolls in their bed instead, taking a look at the clock on the nightstand and tangling himself in the comforter in the process. When his eyes land on the time, an involuntary groan escapes his throat. It’s barely 7 a.m. - way too early for either of them to be awake on a weekend. Or for a cat to have gone missing in the first place.
“He’s not in our bedroom,” Chan supplies after throwing a glance at every corner of the room, not even bothering to change his current position. He’s not quick to panic despite Minho sounding obviously worried - Dori’s always been keen on hiding, to the point where his disappearance isn’t all that surprising.
To Chan at least. Minho’s relationship with their (his) cats is… way more complicated.
“Get your ass here and help me!” Minho shouts, clearly unsatisfied with Chan’s response.
Chan sighs and sits up in the bed, taking a moment to stretch before heading towards the possibly angry Minho. He then walks to the kitchen, dragging his legs on the floor and rubbing his eyes demonstratively, just in case Minho gets annoyed with how slowly he is moving and comes to scold him. (And Chan confesses - Minho can be scary when scolding, but thankfully, he is a total softie when it comes to his sleepy boyfriend. Chan won’t hesitate to use that to his advantage).
In the corridor, Chan passes by their full-length mirror and catches a glimpse of himself - his hair curly and sticking in all directions, cheeks donning pillow marks. He almost misses it, but a second look at his reflection reveals Doongie, ever so slightly rubbing his body against Chan’s legs. Chan huffs out a laugh when the cat notices him, hisses and proceeds his patter to their shoe rack. Doongie has always felt more at home there than in his own cat basket.
“He is indeed very cute,” Minho draws Chan’s attention again. He is leaning on the kitchen’s door frame, hands crossed in front of his chest in a casual manner. His appearance isn’t much different from Chan’s own, blond locks unruly and clothes wrinkly from the good night’s sleep. Chan can barely control the urge to go to Minho and hold him in his arms, using his shoulder to continue his interrupted morning slumber. But the cloud over Minho’s face, in stark contrast to his body language, tells Chan that he probably shouldn’t.
“How are you?” Chan gets straight to the point, knowing Minho wouldn’t appreciate him beating around the bush.
“I’m fine,” Minho clearly lies, not letting Chan protest before adding: “You know who isn’t fine, though? Dori.”
Chan sighs. “Let’s not assume the worst and get upset this early in the morning, okay?” He says, taking a step forward and reaching out to run his fingers through Minho’s hair reassuringly.
Minho swats his hand away.
Chan exhales deeply and closes his eyes. When he opens them, Minho is looking at him apologetically. “When and where did you last see Dori?” Chan continues just as calmly as he’d started.
Minho’s somewhat cocky expression morphs back to the one of apprehension from earlier. “Yesterday in the bedroom,” he responds, “before we…” Is this blush covering his cheeks? “Yeah.”
“Minho,” Chan deadpans, putting his hands on Minho’s shoulders. Minho’s eyes widen. “We’ve been together for almost six years,” Chan points out, as if Minho could’ve randomly forgotten. “Why are you deflecting? That’s usually my thing.”
The thing about Minho is that even if you catch him off-guard, it doesn’t last long. “Because there’s obviously something more important than what we did last night!” He snaps and pushes past Chan, heading towards their bedroom. “Besides, I am not deflecting!” Minho shouts, his voice getting more indistinct as he walks further away.
“Yes, you normally don’t!” Chan agrees, trailing behind him. “That’s how I can tell you’re doing it now,” he adds to himself in a quieter voice.
Minho stops in his tracks, clearly having heard that. “For fuck’s sake,” he groans, turning to face Chan. “I saw him last night before we had sex. Happy?” He rolls his eyes, obviously not in the mood for banter. “Will you stop teasing me now?”
“I didn’t mean to tease you at all,” Chan replies, fully aware that this is a lie.
Because if their six-year relationship has taught him anything, it is that Minho becomes a shell of himself in dire situations, consumed with panic and irrational thoughts. And since Chan’s physical contact hadn’t really helped Minho get his mind off the fear of Dori missing, teasing him seemed like the next best thing. (That, and it’s funny to witness just how riled up Minho gets because of it sometimes).
Like now, for example. “Well congratulations,” Minho says dryly, grazing his cheeks with the back of his fingers. Chan shoots him a toothy grin. “You succeeded. How does it feel to be one of the two people who’ve ever made me flustered?”
“Who’s the other one?” Chan perks up involuntarily. “No, wait, sorry,” he retracts after seeing Minho do a cutthroat gesture at him. “Right, Dori. We were talking about Dori. Our bedroom then.” Chan knits his brows. “Why are you looking there again?”
“Because I don’t trust you,” Minho states casually despite busting the door in an almost frantic manner. “And I am really starting to get worried, I looked everywhere but there myself because you were sleep-”
The door swings open, revealing Dori licking his butthole right in front of them.
A beat passes.
Then Minho surges forward and seizes Dori with a swoop. The cat doesn’t seem to mind. “Dori-yah!” He chides, “don’t scare hyung like that again!” And then, much softer: “Why didn’t you come out for breakfast with Soonie and Doongie?”
Chan doesn’t even have the capacity to feel guilty for not properly searching their room. The sight of Minho coddling Dori on his way to the kitchen makes Chan’s heart so warm he doesn’t know what to do with himself. And the fact Minho initially didn’t want to wake Chan up (even if he ended up doing so anyway)... it’s too much. Everything about Minho is too much and it’s absurd just how fond of him Chan actually is.
He suddenly knows what to do with himself.
“Oof!” Minho yelps after Chan runs up to him and envelops him (and Dori) in a tight hug from behind. “What’s that for?” Minho asks through giggles, his tension from earlier completely resolving as he sinks into Chan’s embrace.
“For making you worry,” Chan apologizes, placing his head in the crook of Minho’s neck.
“It’s okay,” Minho whispers in this soft voice of his that Chan rarely gets to hear. “It’s okay,” he repeats, patting Chan’s hand on his waist while somehow still holding Dori.
“But if I'd made an effort to look for Dori, we could’ve been cuddling in bed right now,” Chan whines, and much to his displeasure, that’s when Minho frees himself from his grasp.
“You might sleep through our kids’ cries in the morning,” he begins, squatting to release Dori and guide him to his food bowl, “but I cannot. They were starving !”
“Our kids?” Chan hovers over Minho, propping his right arm onto the kitchen counter. “Weren’t you their hyung just a minute earlier?”
Minho stands up, his face ending up mere centimetres away from Chan’s. With the way Chan’s positioned right now, he could easily trap Minho between himself and the counter and kiss him silly.
“I’m their everything,” Minho responds to Chan’s question, bringing him back to reality. He seems to have caught up on Chan’s ideas, because he proceeds to painfully slowly slip past him, smiling mischievously all the while.
When Chan turns around, Minho’s already on his way to the living room. At the doorway, he stops and turns his head briefly in Chan’s direction, winking at him with both eyes.
Unbelievable , Chan shakes his head with a grin before following his boyfriend. He already has an inkling of what is about to follow (and it involves long overdue cuddles on their couch).
Except his suspicion turns out to be wrong. Because when he enters the living room, Minho is curled up around a sleeping Soonie ( God I wish that were me , Chan thinks), his eyes sparkling with affection and hand running circles over the cat’s rising and falling stomach.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” Chan whines, earning a satisfied chuckle from Minho.
“Why do you act like there’s not enough space on the couch?” Minho retorts.
“Because I’d have to crush Soonie in order to lay next to you.”
Minho smiles devilishly, his eyes on Soonie’s snout, but thoughts obviously elsewhere. “Who says you have to lay next to me?”
Chan doesn’t need a more explicit invitation.
Careful not to actually crush Soonie, he climbs onto the couch and lowers himself over Minho who has helpfully switched to laying on his stomach in the meantime. Chan doesn’t relax immediately, instead checking once again whether he’s pressing against the cat. Only after he’s reassured that Soonie’s nap hasn’t been interrupted does he allow himself to snuggle against Minho the way he’d wanted to earlier (well, kind of).
Minho hums pleasantly under Chan’s weight. “I love this feeling.”
“Me too,” Chan agrees, raising his head a little to steal a glance at Minho. His boyfriend’s eyes are closed with bliss and his left cheek is squished against the couch, which makes him look deceivingly innocent. Cute . “My back is a bit cold, but it’s only expected that you’d prefer Soonie’s comfort over mine,” Chan adds, not giving away his actual thoughts.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like having me trapped here,” Minho mumbles with no bite, his voice suddenly tired. “I saw what you wanted to do in the kitchen.”
“I didn’t even do anything?”
“But you thought about it.”
“You can read thoughts now?”
Minho giggles sweetly. “Only yours.”
Chan wants to kiss his stupid face, so he does. It’s only a simple peck (or more like a smooch), and Minho gags at the sound Chan (purposely) lets out, but it makes Chan giddier than most of the proper kisses they’ve shared (call him a sap, but… there’s actually no but. Chan would wear that label with pride).
After they stop bickering, Chan nuzzles his own cheek against Minho’s and exhales deeply. They stay quiet for a while, both looking at the snoring Soonie who is taking just as much space on the couch as them. His orange fur is catching the sunlight streaming through the veils in a way so beautiful that Chan can’t resist reaching out and petting the cat, fingers brushing against Minho’s in the process. The sensation reminds him of something distant, something precious - a memory Chan had carefully tucked away in his mind because recalling it is bittersweet and better done only from time to time. Because it brings waves of embarrassment, confusion and tenderness simultaneously.
“Do you remember when we started dating?” Chan voices out, even though he suspects Minho’s reaction won’t be as reminiscent as his own.
As anticipated, Minho groans. “Don’t.”
“Why?” Chan laughs and pokes Minho’s ribs, “you were so cute and angry.”
“And you were painfully oblivious!”
“I wasn’t!” Chan opposes despite knowing Minho’s right.
That’s why when Minho slaps him and accidentally chases Soonie away, Chan doesn’t fight back but takes the cat’s place and cuddles up to Minho. As he dozes off in his boyfriend’s embrace, his subconsciousness transports him to an eventful day almost six years ago, when Chan hadn’t seemed to have a single care in the world.
Well… except for one.