There is non-explicit sexual content in this chapter, please do not read any further if this topic is sensitive to you.

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"What is this even about?" Han questions quietly, head leaning on Minho's shoulder, eyes focused on a movie that he could hardly grasp the concept of.

"It's a horror movie, Ji. Killer stalks people, people get murdered, blah blah." Minho had practically been begging Han to watch some sort of horror movie, and to his surprise, Han actually agreed.

"But why is the killer doing this?"

"Just watch the movie." Minho leaned comfortably into his couch, arms folded with his phone resting on his left thigh. Han was to his right, head pressed to his shoulder gently.

"But I have to know," Han whines, almost unable to focus on the plot of the movie as the screen renders uselessly in his brain.

He understood that it was a scary movie about some psycho killer, but he wanted to know the backstory and the precedent for killing these people. There had to be some sort of saga-like lifestory to this killer, otherwise, what was the point?

"Shh, Ji." Minho tries to soothe Han as they attempt to sit on the couch and soak in the movie's plot, but Han sighs. Minho looks over to him, watching Han's eyes focus on the movie, but he seemed so disinterested. "Do you really not want to watch it?"

"No, I do!" Han's voice trails into a mumble, hands touching one another in a nervous tick. "I just don't understand it."

"We can watch something else." Minho's voice soothes Han's sudden discomfort about the idea of switching, but Han still says no. Minho watches Han shift slightly, hands tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie with the intent of focusing, but his mind won't stop hounding him. Minho knew he felt bad for complaining, but Minho really didn't mind. He was just happy Han spoke up at all.

"Here," Minho unfolds his arms, hand falling to his thigh with his palm facing up. This was the same invitation Han found so much comfort in, one he grew to love openly. Han never admitted he was into physical affection, but something about Minho wanting to touch him made his heart race.

Han takes Minho's hand in his without hesitating, feeling Minho's fingers tangle with his own. Han wants to lean closer into Minho's warmth, but suddenly snaps back into his own anxious mind.

This was a lot of touching. A lot of closeness, a lot of warmth; all things Han loves but stirs his mind into attachment issues. He knew he was overly fond of Minho at this point, but he did his best to avoid feeling so needy towards him.

But now best friend-less and nearly homeless, Minho was all he had. His heart was fragile, but it wanted to be loved so, so badly. He wanted someone to love him, and if that someone was Minho, that was okay too. Minho was unknowingly kind and so considerate, something about the way he treated Han made him feel like he was the only person in Minho's universe.

But he holds onto Minho's hand a bit tighter, feeling the other's thumb run across his skin in loving, gentle motions. Han's heart wants to burst at this moment, leaning against Minho and feeling his shared warmth. He could die in this moment, feeling at peace for the final hour the movie plays before them. He quietly held onto Minho's hand the entire time without saying another word or moving an inch.

The credits roll and Han couldn't be happier to change the channel to something more interesting. Minho's hand reaches for the remote, pondering on a new channel or movie to watch for a moment before handing it over to the male beside him. Han, still attached to Minho, looks at the remote questionably, then reaches for it timidly.

"Pick what you want. We watched my movie, let's watch yours."

"Are you sure?" Han looks upwards at Minho, but Minho smiles at him.

"Yes, Hannie. Pick something, please. I'm going to get a drink though, do you want anything?"

"Whatever you're having is okay." Han leans upright, feeling Minho let go of his hand and rise from the couch. Han settles his focus onto the television, scrolling through some random streaming service, perusing through different movie titles until something sounded interesting.

Minho returns not a moment later, two bottles of juice in his hands as he rounds the corner of the couch, hand extending outwards towards Han. Han takes the bottle from him, setting the capped drink down on his lap while the other hand is occupied using the remote.

"Nothing sounds good," Han tilts his head, squinting at the television screen slightly as he reads various movie titles.

"Well what do you want to watch? Action? Romance? Comedy?"

"I don't know." Han groans. "Everything just sounds bad."

"You're just being picky," Minho looks at Han, twisting the cap off of his new drink to break the seal. "What's your favorite movie?"

"You're not going to want to watch a dramatic-ass movie, Minho."

"Says who?" Minho takes a long, satisfying drink, watching Han look over to him with a curious, smiling gaze. The drink falls from Minho's lips as he re-caps it, setting it down on the side table to his left, then looking back towards Han. Han can't help but smile at him, smitten almost; heart warm as he watches him.

"Play the movie. Let's watch it." Minho encourages lightly, allowing Han all of the freedom in the universe to play whatever 'dramatic' movie he loved so much. Minho raises his arm onto the back of the couch, almost accidentally letting his hand fall down onto Han's right shoulder. Han starts to unconsciously lean towards Minho, almost like he was being pulled towards him, but he wouldn't complain and neither would Minho.

"Okay," Han presses a button on the remote, watching the screen change as the movie begins to play. "No complaining."

"Hey," Minho smirks. "You complained nearly the entire first half of my movie. I am allowed to complain about what I want."

"Fine, fine." Han leans in a bit closer, head resting against Minho's jaw and on his shoulder again, body flush against his own.

Minho was surprisingly okay with this. He could feel himself changing slowly, but the progress he was making mentally was never enough. He wants to change for Han, he wants to be there and make Han feel needed, but the mental barricades he spent years developing are struggling to come down.

Something about Han made him vulnerable. Han always seemed like he was trying everyday, always wanted to better himself for Minho, but Minho felt like he could never do the same. He was terrified to be in love or to feel loved, but Han made him feel loved everyday. Every hug, every kiss, every single hold on his hand was turning his heart on fire, and he was struggling to put the fire out willingly.

The movie rolls through the beginning scenes and Minho seemingly pays whole-hearted attention despite his active mind, but he feels Han's breathing slow, head leaning a little further into him almost as if he was-

"Jisungie? Are you sleeping?" Minho quietly mutters, watching Han start to shift and move around, but his breaths remain unchanged as he rests against Minho. Minho gently kisses the top of Han's head, wanting nothing more than to be honest with himself at this very moment. He knew what he was feeling, heart nearly beating out of his chest as his heart swells with affection, but he knows when he's honest with himself in the dark of his room, his fear will come back and these feelings will subside.

"Minho'ah?" Han mumbles as he wakes slightly, rubbing his eyes as he tries to rise from Minho's side.

"You can go back to sleep if you want." Minho affirms quietly and Han smiles sleepily.

"Okay. Can I lay down though? My neck kinda hurts."

"Yeah, yeah." Minho helps Han lean the opposite direction, then lays down on the couch, sliding his feet behind Minho's back. He rests with his arms open, hoping Han will lay down in front of him and cuddle against his chest; and thankfully that's exactly what Han does.

His body is warm against Minho, heart beating calmly, breaths deepening as his eyes close and he finds peace within Minho's arms. Minho rests his head against the arm of the couch, slightly elevated so he could continue to watch the movie Han suggested, enthralled with the film the entire duration as Han rested.

A movie so simple, and yes, dramatic in nature, resonated with Minho as Han slept. It was a calm theme, a hint of impending doom sitting just on the edge of the movie's plot as it told the story, but Minho found himself actually caring about the characters and the story associated within the film. He wouldn't take Han for a sappy, drama movie goer, but something about this movie tasted just like Han did.

Though he's only really had a taste of Han Jisung, he could tell that he was one of the kindest people he's met despite everything he deals with. A bad home life has never stopped him from showing up to class and keeping in touch with his friends, always making everyone or everything else a priority rather than himself. He truly was a bit selfless, and that was something Minho really lo-

No.

"Did I sleep through the entire movie?" Han's groggy voice echoes into Minho's ears as he wakes, watching the film's end credits scroll by on the television.

"Yeah, you did." Minho sighs. "I wish you would've watched it with me."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't know I was that tired."

"No, I could tell." Minho pulls Han closer into him, burying his face into the back of Han's neck. "You've been through a lot the last couple of days. You really needed the rest."

"It has been a lot," Han admits sadly, thinking into the memory of fighting with Felix just the night prior. "I'm sorry I don't like to talk about my problems a lot."

"You don't have to say sorry to me about anything. I get it. I understand. I'm never going to be mad at you." Minho feels the urge swelling in his heart to kiss Han, but he settles for a kiss placed on the back of Han's neck. It was a bit more intimate than he wanted, but Han didn't seem to mind.

"Never?" Han teases and Minho just hums 'mhm' in response. "Okay. I'll remember that."

"What? Are you planning on making me mad?"

"No!" Han laughs quietly. "I just-. . . it sounds like you're becoming a bit of a simp, Minho."

"Oh come on," Minho's smile is felt on the back of Han's neck and Han can only smile at the comfort of their closeness at this present moment. Han wants to relish in it, understanding that this very well could only be temporary, but something about Minho's warm affection towards him in this quiet home was radiating something different.

"You've been really, I don't know-" Han struggles to find the word for a brief thirty seconds, but settles on something that will resonate with Minho for the rest of the evening. "Loving?"

"Really?" Minho's head rises from the warmth of Han's neck, looking down at him with a confused gaze. Loving?

"You're more affectionate than you think you are." Han takes a moment to turn onto his back, eyes looking upwards at Minho. "I've always been told that you're cold and unwilling, but you're neither of those things."

"I've had my reasons for coming off that way," Minho's hand moves to push a piece of hair away from his eyes, but he stops moving the moment he sees Han's hand appear first and gently push the strand to the side.

"Why?"

"I don't know if I'm ready to say that yet." Minho struggles to be honest about his past, but the moment Han's face falls in concern, Minho's words roll unconsciously from his tongue. "I do want to tell you, but I'm just not there yet. No one really knows that part of my life."

"That's okay." Han slightly smiles with reassurance. "I'll be here when you're ready."

"I'm sorry I can't open up yet. I know it has to be hard dealing with how closed off I am."

"I'm no better," Han scoffs. "I literally told you that I didn't want you getting attached to me because I have serious attachment issues and can't handle people, besides Felix, wanting me in their life."

"Wait, speaking of Felix-" Minho watches Han's eyes avoid his gaze. "Did you guys get into an argument?"

"Sort of. . ." Han's voice trails off. His body was suddenly rigid, hand falling away from Minho's face as it settled on his stomach.

"You and Felix are good friends right?"

"Yeah, he's-" Han cuts himself off and struggles to continue for a moment. The fear of the reality pertaining to his sentence was heart-breaking, and something he really did not want to admit. "Was my best friend."

"Don't think like that, Ji." Minho looks at Han sympathetically, eyes trailing down Han's features. He can spot the tears forming in his eyes, the sadness buried deep within them; Minho doesn't seem to think before he moves to kiss him.

Minho's hand finds Han's jaw as he moves his head back softly to face him, lips gently pressing to Han's in surprise, and Han doesn't bother to pull away.

The kiss tastes like the juice Minho had gotten from the fridge, sweet and slightly warm, something Han relishes in as his eyes close to avoid sudden tears. Minho doesn't feel the need to pull away, instead presses closer, leading Han to grab the collar of Minho's gray shirt and pull him into himself.

What starts as a slow kiss directed as an act of comfort, turns into something warmer and more intimate. Minho can feel himself slowly moving his body as Han scoots closer, kisses turning hot as Minho's body climbs over the younger's, leading Minho to straddle him.

Han isn't sure what the hell was happening, hands moving to Minho's waist when he shifted over, wanting nothing more than for Minho to never leave.

Minho's lips pull from Han's, only to press against his cheek, then to his jaw, then back again to the corner of his mouth before looking down at Han with a rapid warmth rising to his cheeks.

"Is this okay?"

"It's more than okay," Han replies, looking up at Minho while completely flushed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Minho leans back down, hands finding the bottom of Han's shirt, just barely poking underneath. He can feel Han slightly jump, but he quickly settles into Minho's touch as his hand slides up to his chest. Han envelops him in a kiss again, stealing the breath from Minho's lungs as he presses against him.

Minho, in honesty, doesn't know what he's doing. He set clear boundaries with Han just barely a week ago, insisting that he wasn't able to commit to anything due to his fears, but here he was, shockingly straddling the male he told he couldn't be in a relationship with.

But, for some reason, Minho loves this. His heart has been aching for some sort of comfort and closeness, but his past has a way of blocking everything he wanted. Minho barely allowed himself the presence of friends, using most of his free time to learn new dances and to practice his hobby, but when Felix asked him to come to his birthday party, he could hardly refuse.

They had known each other for nearly their entire lives, given that their parents were naturally very good friends. Though they weren't awfully close, Felix did what he could to stay in contact with Minho through the years. However, after a bad relationship experience, Minho closed himself off and strayed from any friendship he had with Felix, isolating himself and his ever changing emotions. But over the last year, he had been trying to repair the damage he inflicted from his lonely days, reaching out to Felix slowly, almost afraid to apologize. Felix was always so forgiving about anything, (it's just the kind of person he was), but he had explained to Minho that 'coming to his birthday party would be a great way to rekindle their friendship'.

On top of everything else, Felix, being best friends with Han, knew about the crush the younger had on Minho. Felix had asked once or twice if Minho was interested in anyone a few months ago, and to his surprise, Minho mentioned someone being 'cute' in his dance class. Minho never wanted to admit that the 'cute' dancer in his class was, in fact, Han Jisung, but somehow Felix always pestered him about it anyway.

However, he never pictured himself here, straddling Han on his lap and kissing him like a hungry animal, now struggling to leave.

"Minho-" Han's voice escapes rapid kisses, breaths barely able to escape the connection between the two.

"Mhm?" Minho nearly hums against Han's lips, feeling him smile in return. Han's hands find Minho's chest as he softly pushes him upwards, allowing him the chance to breathe and speak.

"We're not rushing this, are we?"

"What is there to rush?" Minho watches Han bite down on his lower lip subtly, trying to hide the smile pulling at his lips.

"I know we aren't exactly doing anything right now, but, I don't want us to do anything we'd regret if we decide to stop doing. . . whatever this is."

"Hannie," Minho's tone immediately seizes Han's heart. "If we're both comfortable, why would we regret it?"

Han feels shy suddenly, knowing that Minho has some sort of affection towards him that crazily stirred his mind. But he was right; what was there to regret if they both wanted it?

"I don't know."

"We agreed that if we're comfortable then this is all okay, right?"

"Yeah," Han smiles as Minho leans back down, his nose just barely touching his own.

"Then stop interrupting me," Minho smiles when Han giggles at him, pressing their lips together again, fueling the intense heat created between them.

Hands find waists and teeth bite lips as they press into one another, hands becoming anxious sitting outside of clothed skin. Minho's hands trail back to Han's bare skin, feeling his chest and abs, fingers trailing lightly against his stomach as they linger under his shirt.

Han's hands find Minho's back, sliding under his shirt and grazing his nails on the surface of Minho's skin also, both boys becoming comfortable touching naked skin as they breathe and taste one another.

Before they realize it, Minho is ripping the shirt from his back over his head, exposing his chest and muscular build once again, but Han isn't staring at him like a dumbfounded deer stuck in the headlights of an oncoming car; this time he's admiring him. Han doesn't bother to protest when Minho's hand slowly pulls at his shirt, pulling it almost the entire way up his chest before Han assists him and pulls it over his head.

The afternoon simmers into the evening, leaving both males alone in the house to explore the smooth textures of each other's bare skin. There is nothing more Han wants than this. It's careful and comfortable, something Han never knew he needed. He's been used time and time again, but this was different. Han knew he could trust Minho completely.

Afterall, he could feel himself falling for him.

The sun sets over the brink of the horizon as the moon threatens to take over the sky. Pastel colors rage through clouds and settle like a painting over the neighborhood, soft sunlight peaking into Minho's bedroom window.

Han was asleep in Minho's arms again, face nearly buried into his pillow as he breathed deeply in the comfort and warmth of the older's hold on him. Minho was awake, mind screaming at him as he internally wrestled with the memory of touching and feeling Han, knowing fully well what his intentions were. He still wants to try for Han, more than anything. He wants to let go of this fear and settle into something with Han, but his mind is fighting him every step of the way.

Minho was awake, resting his eyes more so, thinking too deeply into the thought of how fast their unlabeled relationship was moving. He knew that now, after today, things had changed. His mind and his heart had changed, something inside of his soul was reaching out and for some reason; his fear was subsiding.

After years of yearning for himself to heal, he had always thought he had to heal by himself. Time and time again he had pushed people away in fear of getting hurt even worse, but little did he know that he just needed someone to heal him and show him what actual love was like.

He felt like Han was his chance to heal and finally set that part of himself to rest, but he didn't want Han to be his scapegoat. It wasn't his intention to make Han 'fix' him, but all he needed was patience and understanding. There was this soft, fuzzy feeling that rose to the surface, almost subtly letting Minho know that Han would be patient with him, and suddenly, all doubts drowned below the tide of worry.

Han's body shifts as he rolls over, eyes just barely open as his mind begins to wake from the sudden nap, gaze searching Minho's face as his eyes part open too.

"Can I tell you something?" Han's voice is quiet and smooth, but still a bit hazy with sleep.

"Of course." Minho adjusts his head, looking Han directly in the eyes sleepily.

"I really like you." Han's normal, timid tone disappears, now laced with honey and affection.

"I really like you, too." To Han's surprise, Minho's response reaches his heart and holds it warmly.

"Really?" Minho laughs gently at Han's question, rolling his eyes amicably.

"Obviously, Ji." Minho's hands rest on Han's body still, feeling Han's hands rest in the space between them.

"I was scared to admit how attached I am to you." Han's eyes trail down towards his hands. "I know I told you that I have attachment issues and stuff, but I want to work on that part of myself for you. I just really want to be with you."

Minho, honestly, could cry at this moment if his heart wasn't so immune to sudden wills of emotion. He takes a long inhale, feeling a tinge of anxiety hanging on the back of his tongue. He knew what he wanted to say, just barely afraid to say it. But for one measly moment, Minho swallows his fear and says it anyway. "I really care about you. It all happened so fast and I think I was feeling something a long time ago when I first saw you in class. Because of the party, my heart has been torn to pieces. On one hand I was really afraid of trying to be open, but on the other, you made me want to believe it was worth trying."

Han feels Minho's hand suddenly move from his waist and to his hand, enveloping it in his own. "Spending time with you has made me realize that I want to be with you all the time. I really-"

Minho struggles as he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his lip as he swallows the rising anxiety in his throat.

"Take your time." Han reassures and Minho smiles at him.

The words seem to linger on his tongue, but he can't find the nerve to say it. Instead, he leans forwards, pressing his lips to Han's to melt away the remaining fear within his mind, listening to the chaotic anxiety dissipate into quiet nothingness.

Minho's lips part away from Han's, but linger an inch away. "I want to be with you too."