Chapter Text
Minho told himself he’d get an early night.
It had been a hard day. He’d had three long classes, a project to finish, finances to sort out and he’d gotten barely any sleep the night before. So, once everything was finished, he told himself he’d skip dance for the night and go straight to bed.
So how, at 5 to midnight at night, he was letting himself in to the dance studio, Minho didn’t know.
All he knew was that now that he was there, he may as well make the most of it.
The studio was practically falling apart, the wallpaper peeling off the walls and the lights flickering and no running water available for the thirsty dancers who now had to make sure to bring their own drinks. The owner of the place had found another job and had been rich enough to not bother selling the studio or bother prosecuting the broke college kids who continued to break in to train somewhere that wouldn’t cost them any money. It was a perfect system, really.
Minho was shameless to admit that he was one of those trespassers and, although he had run in to a few other dancers in the place, he rarely ever talked to them.
However, it was absolutely unheard of to run into someone this late into the night, but Minho soon discovered that maybe he wasn’t the only one deciding to skip out on sleep because as he carefully pushed open the rusty front door, he could hear the faint sound of music playing from someone’s phone in one of the rooms.
The mystery dancer was moving to Home by Seventeen, a song that Minho had to admit was very beautiful, one that he had simultaneously tried to learn the dance to and make up his own choreography for many a time. Which meant that, as Minho quietly made his way down the corridor, he could tell that the sounds of the kicks and leaps the person was executing did not line up with the original choreography of the song, and so whoever it was had made their own dance up. A talented dancer indeed.
Any other time, Minho never would have done it. He knew how special dance time was to a person and he was all too aware how intimate and precious practicing alone could make a person feel, so he had no intention of ever interrupting that for someone. But Minho couldn’t help how curious he was, couldn’t help how he desperately wanted to see the skills and technique this mystery person was hiding.
So, it was with baited breaths that Minho slinked into the doorway of the studio the person was dancing in, leaning quietly against the doorframe to watch what he could only describe as one of the most beautiful performances he had ever seen.
The first thing Minho noticed was the moonlight. It shone gorgeously through the window, bathing the room in a soft white glow that stretched from wall to wall, elegantly casting the room with enough light for Minho to see. Which was probably why the person inside the room had chosen to keep the lights off, instead enjoying twirling inside the glittery twinkles that were sparkling from the windows, infinitely prettier than the broken studio lightbulbs that had a habit of flickering and breaking at the worst possible times.
But nothing was prettier than the person currently leaping gracefully across the floor.
The dancer was a boy, a young boy, probably a few years younger than Minho himself, but he moved with such grace and power that Minho couldn’t help but be in awe. He had blonde hair that bounced as he danced, following a beat behind his head and fluttering occasionally back down to its original position, framing a young but somehow sharp face that had fallen into an expression of complete calm, of complete serenity as the boy lost himself to the music and let his body do the talking, his arms outstretched and his legs pulling him around the room.
His movements were utterly fluid, leading perfectly into one another with a force of power that was hard to replicate, requiring skill and stamina that Minho knew was hard to come by. It was a beautiful sight, the perfect technique glowing within the moonlight, and Minho was too wrapped up in it to realise he was basically spying on someone who had no idea he was there.
The last beats of the song ended with a soft flourish and the boy relaxed into his ending position, holding it still for a couple of seconds before sighing and looking into the mirror, catching his own eyes for a moment before a look of surprise adorned his features and he looked up to catch Minho’s.
For a second, the two just stared at each other in the mirror. Minho froze in a complete deer-in-the-headlights moment, unused to the tension that made his body rigid. Usually, Minho was confident in moments like these, choosing to smirk instead of freeze when he was caught doing something he shouldn’t be. But there was something about this boy, something about his soft eyes and youthful features that made Minho want to drop the act and be sincere with him.
A couple more moments passed before the boy cleared his throat and swivelled round, staring at Minho full-on instead of just through the mirror.
“Ummm… hello?” the boy sounded nervous, a slight accent lilting his words as he tilted his head, staring up at Minho with slightly guarded eyes.
“Oh… hi,” Minho cleared his throat, trying to work a friendly smile onto his features, his hidden shy-side suddenly taking the wheel in his mind, “Sorry about that, I promise I’m not a creep or anything. I just recognised the song and wanted to see who was dancing to it and then I saw it was you and… and that was… that was amazing. You’re really talented.”
Minho finished talking with a slightly bigger smile, butterflies erupting in his stomach when the boy blushed and looked to the floor, fiddling with his sweater paws as he shuffled a little closer to Minho, still bathed in the glorious starlight beaming down from the window.
“Oh… thanks,” the boy was obviously trying to hide his embarrassment, clearly unused to being complimented, “I’m really not that great, though. I’ve never had any training or anything and I just made that up myself, it’s nothing special.”
“Nothing special?” Minho felt his confidence spike as he took a step into the room and tried to catch the boy’s eyes, never one to let people think down on themselves, “That was incredible, especially considering you’ve never had any training. You’re entirely self-taught?”
“Yeah,” the boy shrugged, “My parents never liked the idea of dance classes, so I used videos and stuff to learn. Then when I came over here to actually train I realised I didn’t have the money. One of my friends goes to the university nearby and told me about this place, so I could keep teaching myself.”
“Oh, that must be the same uni I go to,” Minho responded, instantly thinking of the crowded university he went to with the dance practice rooms that got so busy so fast and weren’t allowed to be used past 8pm, “There’s not a single performing arts student who doesn’t know about this place. Who’s your friend? I might know them.”
“Kim Seungmin,” the boy’s eyes crinkled at the mention of his friend, a slight smile adorning his features that made Minho swoon, “He’s the same age as me, studying music and law.”
“Oh, I do know him,” Minho nodded as he pictured the mentioned boy in his head, a cute little nerd with messy hair and sharp eyes, “He’s a vocalist, pretty good friend of mine actually.”
“Yeah, same,” the boy said, now no longer fiddling with his sleeves, apparently a lot more at ease as the conversation shifted to familiar areas, Minho glad to see he was relaxing, “He was the one who told me about this place, which is apparently common knowledge.”
“It is,” Minho grinned, taking another step into the room and placing his backpack onto the floor, “So, it seems we have some mutual friends and a shared love for dance. It’d be rude of me not to introduce myself, I’m Minho.”
With that, Minho carefully closed the distance between him and the boy, smiling to himself as the boy’s eyes widened a little in surprise. He stood there a couple for seconds, clearly unsure of what to say before quickly relaxing, face softening in a way that had Minho noticing the gorgeous freckles dancing across his cheeks.
“I’m Felix,” the boy responded, only a little bit shyly, “It’s great to meet you.”
“And you,” Minho said, studying Felix for a few more moments before turning to pull his phone out his pocket, quickly finding a song he had been working on lately, eager to see the different types of choreography Felix could pull off, “I’ve been trying to perfect this dance lately if you’d like to join in.”
Less than a second later, Beautiful by Monsta X was playing from Minho’s phone, Minho biting his lip to refrain from making a comment about how the title of the song matched perfectly with Felix’s aura and appearance, not wanting to scare him off just yet.
Felix’s eyes narrowed slightly before opening in recognition, watching as Minho slid his phone towards the mirror before gliding into the first move, body immediately falling into the rhythm and limbs moving in the familiar way he loved.
One more note played from the song before Felix was doing the same, arms moving exactly the way Minho’s did, legs twirling in the same direction Minho’s did, head turning in the same motions as Minho’s. The same music was flowing through his veins, his body bringing the song to life and spreading it throughout the room, Minho falling into the same motion and pumping with each note, lyrics twirling gorgeously across his skin as the two moved in sync.
The moonlight continued to watch them from the window, coating them in way that had their moves powered by electricity, small sparks of light shimmering at their fingertips and falling from their arms as they swirled, the entire world fading away as the night sky stared humbly down at their little studio.
The two couldn’t help but watch each other in the mirror, Minho in awe of Felix’s fluidity whilst Felix lost all breath at Minho’s conciseness, the dancer hitting all beats and finishing every move like it was his last, every inch of his body from his fingertips to his toes executing each step to perfection.
It was similar choreography to what Felix had constructed for Home, but also a lot more intense. Felix no longer looked like the soft lyrical dancer who flew like a butterfly, lost in a world of serenity. He was now sharp like a needle, clearly still lost in the music, but this time high on power and control rather than the calm he had exuded before. A whole different person to who he had been five minutes ago.
It was a strong talent, being able to morph yourself into different genres so easily, one that Minho had also enjoyed being able to master. But it was a whole different experience watching it being displayed by Felix, someone who had learnt the skill himself and had clearly picked it up from all the music videos and choreographies he had watched, making it more raw and open compared to someone who had it taught to them.
The rest of the song floated melodically throughout the room, the two dancers swirling in sync as the last notes filtered out of their ears. A second of silence twisted around them, disturbed only by their fast breaths as they locked eyes in the mirror, an inexplicable sense of peace washing over them as they lost themselves in each other’s beauty.
But then the next song started playing, Bomb Bomb by KARD, and Minho was about to press pause when Felix’s body swooped, falling naturally into the first few beats of choreography. He immediately settled into the female version of the dance, wrists twisting and head turning as he gestured at Minho to take the male. And who was Minho to decline such an offer?
It wasn’t your average partner dance, it was supposed to be for four members, not two, and involved very little interaction between the dancers. But it still required Minho and Felix to dance around one another, executing different moves that somehow complimented each other so well, both their bodies aligning perfectly to one another in a way that was undeniably flawless.
It was hard to explain, but they fit so well together. Like puzzle pieces, different jagged edges but the same parts in the middle, forming a picture that the eyes couldn’t be torn away from. Whilst Felix was soft, Minho was sharp. Whilst Felix was fluid, Minho was concise. Whilst Felix was elegant, Minho was powerful. It somehow worked, one could not be without the other, like different ends of magnets drawing to one another, opposites attracting in a way that was undeniably beautiful.
(Minho also couldn’t deny that watching Felix’s hip shake and back arch in what was supposedly female choreography was a whole new level of blessing, but that was beSIDES the point.)
Eventually, the song faded to its end and Felix couldn’t stop the wide smile from breaking out on his face, feeling more relaxed and calmer than he had in a long time.
“Wow,” he grinned, flicking away sweaty bangs to look at Minho, “That was so good. You’re really talented… um… hyung?”
“You can call me hyung if you want,” Minho reassured, pushing his own hair away from his eyes, “And thanks, you’re really talented too. You also have pretty good taste judging by what choreographies you know.”
Felix couldn’t help but giggle at that, the sound ringing like music in Minho’s ears, music that he wished he could dance to for the rest of his life.
“I know quite a few other dances,” Felix said, lowering his eyes a little as a faint blush started to creep up his ears, “Maybe… maybe we could do this again some time? Like dance to a few other songs? But only if you want too, I don’t know how often you come here or if dancing at midnight is really a healthy thing but I had fun, I guess, and I’d love to do it again, but only if you’re comfortable and-“
“Felix,” Minho interrupted the boy’s rambling with his signature flirty smileTM, “I’d love to.”
A look of relief broke out on Felix’s face, the moonlight still shining off his freckles and highlighting the beauty in his smile, “Great,” he said, “You said you go to the university, right? I usually hang out with my friends near there, and I also do shifts at some of the cafes and the bars, so maybe I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah definitely,” Minho said, “I’m studying engineering, but I’m also in the dance club and have a lot of performance arts friends, so I’m usually around there.”
“Wow,” Felix’s eyes widened, “Engineering?! You must be crazy smart.”
“Not really,” it was Minho’s turn to blush and rub at the back of his neck, still humble about his ability to excel at the course and get in to the uni without having to sit any entrance exams, “I just… understand it, I guess.”
“Definitely smart,” Felix’s eyes twinkled as he grinned, a whole constellation living within the beautiful orbs on his face, “But as much as I’d like to keep telling you how talented you are,” Felix shifted slightly on his feet, eyes falling briefly to the floor as his confidence seemed to diminish a little, “I have a morning coffee shift starting at 5am, so I should probably head home and try and get a couple of hours of sleep in.”
“What?” Minho exclaimed, his own worries all suddenly flying out the window as his mind inexplicably started fussing over this boy he’d only just met, “That’s barely a few hours! Go and get some sleep or I’ll follow you home and tuck you into bed myself.”
At this point, Minho didn’t know if he was trying to be threatening or flirty, probably both, but he did know that he felt inexplicably drawn to the boy, that dancing with him and talking to him had taken a weight off his shoulders that he’d forgotten was there. Felix just had this light about him, this sunshine energy attached to his movements that made Minho want to see him again. It didn’t really make any sense, but that didn’t mean Minho would run away from it.
Minho was running away from too many things these days; his hard uni course that he was beginning to hate, his future career path that was beginning to loom uncertainly over him begging to be decided on, his well-meaning friends who were telling him it was okay to be stressed and that he could choose dance if he wanted. If this moonlit boy with the starry freckles was going to make him happy, then who would Minho be to deny himself of that? He didn’t need to add something else to the lists of things he was trying to avoid.
And Minho didn’t know how he knew, but Felix seemed to feel the same way. There were doubts and uncertainties swimming dangerously in Felix’s eyes, a certain lining of his posture that gave away how tense he was, a claw squeezing at his neck that made it hard to breathe until he turned on the music and danced again, losing himself in the music, losing himself in Minho’s movements and deep brown eyes.
Both boys had worries chasing after them, worries that had somehow gotten lost when they’d found each other, all stress replaced with calm melodies and soft moonlight.
“Okay hyung,” Felix said quietly, face locked softly but intensely with Minho’s, “I’ll sleep. Make sure you do as well.”
“I will,” Minho promised, somehow knowing that he might actually be able keep that promise this time, “Goodnight, Felix.”
“Goodnight, hyung,” Felix smiled, turning and going to grab his bag before walking slowly towards the exit, all too aware of the eyes that followed him the entire time.
“And Felix?” Minho’s words caught the boy just before he disappeared out the doorway, “If you need me, I’ll be here.”
Felix’s face appeared briefly back in the doorway for one last second, a tender look playing against his features, “I know, hyung. I know where to find you.”
. . .
Turns out Felix hadn’t been wrong about knowing where to find Minho.
It was two days later when Felix walked into the studio at 1am, feet taking him to the tune of NCT 127’s Cherry Bomb sounding from a familiar phone. It was a fun song, and Felix smiled as he listened to someone dancing to it, his good mood getting even better as he slinked into the doorway to find Minho smirking at himself in the mirror, the choreography pulsing through his limbs.
Felix had instantly joined in, exactly as Minho did three days after that when he found a fond Felix dancing to Fancy by Twice at 12:30am.
It became a routine, meeting up at ridiculous times on uncertain nights to dance together, Minho and Felix getting to know each other through dance quicker than they ever would have through conversation.
But that didn’t mean the conversation didn’t flow. It had been two weeks of on-and-off nightly practices when Minho and Felix found themselves lying on their backs next to each other on the studio floor, directly in the middle of a bright patch of moonlight.
They’d just danced to Save Me by Bts and emotions were high. Felix had come in straight from a shift, completely exhausted, and Minho’s mind had been driving him crazy all day, neither of them helped by the emotional song that had brought everything to the forefront, brains screaming about how they really did need someone to save them.
Maybe, that was why they reached out to each other.
Minho couldn’t help the way he felt like he was drowning, couldn’t help the way all the stress in his mind was building to the point he couldn’t even breathe, couldn’t help the way every inch of his skin had begun to feel like it was being pulled in every single direction.
But he also couldn’t help the way all these feelings seemed to go away whenever he danced around Felix, how Felix’s touch on his skin was enough to make all the pain disappear, how Felix’s quiet understanding and tired breaths were enough to push away all the water in his mind.
Minho, for the first time in what felt like forever, felt like he could be his true self around Felix, could be exactly who he wanted to be. It had creeped him out at first, after all they’d only known each other for two weeks, but then Felix would look at Minho with his ever-lasting eyes, so deep and full of emotion it was enough to still an entire room, and Minho realised exactly why he was so comfortable around him.
Minho didn’t know it if was contentment or vulnerability, but he was somehow drawn to it all the same.
“Felix,” Minho’s whisper was soft, barely disturbing the peace of the room as they slowly turned to face each other, the moonlight casting a soft glow on each other’s faces, “Thank you.”
Felix looked confused at first, eyebrows drawing together and questions replacing the stars in his eyes, messy hair slowly flopping over his forehead, “For what, hyung?”
“For this,” Minho answered, gesturing slightly at the studio around them, “For dancing with me and never asking questions, for giving me a way of escape.”
“Hyung,” Felix’s voice was shaky, Minho having to look away at the sad look playing against the boy’s features, “What do you mean?”
Minho didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to unload his burden on this beautiful, innocent boy next to him. But before he knew it a sob was twisting against his throat and forcing its way past his lips, racking through his entire chest as it echoed throughout the room. A hand slapped its way over Minho’s mouth, Minho trying to force the sounds away before Felix heard. But traitor tears had started collecting in his eyes, falling down the side of his face and landing on the floor next to him, staining the dance room with the horrible emotion stressed dancers too often tried to hide.
Another sob stuttered through Minho’s body as he tried to turn away, curling up on his side so Felix wouldn’t see his face, desperately hoping Felix had somehow not caught on to any of his breakdown.
But Felix knew Minho’s body a lot better than he probably realised, knew how it flowed and danced and rippled, how the limbs and nerves fluttered to create gorgeous, irreplaceable movements. But there was nothing gorgeous about this, nothing irreplaceable about the way Minho’s frame was racked with devastation, and all Felix knew, as he watched the sadness take over Minho’s body, was that this type of emotion didn’t belong on the boy.
So, Felix carefully slid himself closer, sitting up and ever-so-gently pulling Minho’s head onto his lap, one of his hands tangling itself in Minho’s hair whilst the other stroked tenderly along his shoulder.
“Shhh, hyung, it’s okay,” Felix started to whisper, his voice calm and gentle despite the way his heart had started to race, “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here.”
Minho tried to hide his face in Felix’s legs and Felix let him, knowing all too well the embarrassment that often-invaded moments like this, wanting Minho to know that he was there, but also that he didn’t have to do anything he was uncomfortable with.
“Just remember to breathe, hyung,” Felix tried to reassure, his fingertips stroking lightly through Minho’s soft locks, “Just remember I’m here. I’m here when you’re ready to talk. I’m always here.”
The words somehow managed to break through the walls in Minho’s mind, smashing effortlessly through the barriers he had spent so long trying to construct. Minho wanted to hate the feeling, wanted to hate how easily Felix had wormed his way into his mind. But he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t stop the words flowing from his mouth, couldn’t stop his worries from floating through the air despite how goddamn hard he’d worked at trying to suppress them.
“I just feel so lost,” Minho sobbed, talking about how he always put up a confident front, how he always tried to seem like he knew what he was doing, how he played the role of someone who was so sure of themselves. But deep down… deep deep down… he was so unsure.
Minho knew he loved to dance and he knew he was good at it, but he had no idea if he could make a future of it, if he was capable of entering a world that was so fast-paced and so competitive and so gruelling with its endless standards and demands.
He knew he enjoyed engineering and he knew he excelled at it, but he couldn’t see himself doing it for the rest of his life, couldn’t see himself continuing to love it. It was getting harder and harder and with every passing day he wanted more and more to drop out.
He knew he wanted to drop out, but he couldn’t shake the fear of not having anywhere to go, of not having any way to live, of dropping out a mere year before it was supposed to end and wasting all the time that led to this moment, all because he couldn’t handle a little bit of stress.
He felt cowardly. He felt useless. He felt stupid.
Yet, somehow, he felt loved. He felt loved because he was being cradled so lovingly in Felix’s arms, because someone was finally taking the time to listen, because for the first time ever, he actually felt comfortable sharing all that was weighing on his heart.
And Felix didn’t tell Minho to stop, he didn’t tell him his worries were invalid, he didn’t tell him he was being unreasonable and over-emotional. Instead, he just pulled Minho closer, whispering reassurances into his ears, whispering that he could work it out, whispering that they could talk about it but only when Minho had calmed down because he didn’t want Minho making any rash, panicked decisions.
It felt so good, it felt so goddamn good to hear those words. Because it taught Minho that he wasn’t alone in his struggles, that it wasn’t unnatural to have second thoughts and then third thoughts and then fourth thoughts, and so long as he didn’t use these to rush into anything, it was okay to breakdown and let it all out into his friend’s chest.
Felix just continued to hold him, running his small hands through Minho’s hair and stroking light fingertips over his back, accepting all the tears that soaked his chest.
“I know you love music, hyung,” Felix whispered, Minho’s ears heating up under the younger’s thoughtful words, “And one of my friends makes music with a couple of other guys, and they always talk about how the most important lesson in life is to run at your own pace, to dance at the speed of your own song and run at the speed of your own race rather than everyone else’s. If you’re not yet ready to decide on your career, then that’s okay. If you need longer to make these decisions, then that’s okay. So, don’t pressure yourself about it all now, hyung, give yourself time to think and to learn, and that way you’ll know that when you do make a decision, it will be the best one possible.”
The words floated effortlessly into Minho’s heart, lodging themselves into his brain and hugging gently around his thoughts as he started to calm, Felix’s voice still ringing soft in his ear. He couldn’t deny that Felix had somehow managed to say everything he needed to hear, and he was saying it in a way Minho couldn’t help but melt at, his tense muscles and rigid bones all loosening and melting into a puddle on the floor where Felix was waiting to catch him.
“You’re so clever hyung,” Felix kept on going, now rocking Minho back and forth as Minho gradually started to calm, “You’re so goddamn clever, and so goddamn talented. You’ve got so much going for you, you’ll figure it out in the end.”
“Th-thank you, Felix,” Minho’s breathed hitched as he spoke, his voice still laden with tears, “Thank you so much.”
“Don’t thank me, hyung,” Felix said, his lips softly grazing over Minho’s hair in a small kiss that had Minho’s heart short-circuiting for an entirely different reason, “I’m always going to be here.”
It didn’t take long for Minho to calm down after that. His chest was still stuttering and the tear-tracks were still glistening against his cheeks, but he found himself feeling a lot lighter as Felix carefully helped him into a sitting position, his small hands rubbing along Minho’s shoulders.
“I know you come across all flirty and fun, which you definitely are,” Felix said, slowly looping his fingers under Minho’s chin to pull his eyes over to him, “But it’s okay to be worried too, it’s okay to let your feelings show. I’ll always talk to you about them.”
“Thank you, Lix,” Minho allowed himself to smile, his eyes pulling up into little crescents that reflected the white glow shining in from outside, “You’re an angel.”
“Nooooo stooooooooop,” Felix blushed, smacking Minho lightly in the shoulder as he hid his hands in his face, “I’m not an angel.”
“You’re my angel,” Minho cooed, pulling Felix’s into his arms as the younger giggled, “And you give the best hugs.”
“Well, my hugs are always available when you need them,” Felix replied, voice muffled from where his face had somehow gotten pressed into Minho’s shirt, “No matter what you’re feeling, the hugs are always here.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Minho whispered, leaning down to press a small kiss against Felix’s cheek, “You angel.”
“Stop calling me that!” Felix squirmed with a shout, cheeks a lot redder than he probably realised, Minho unable to hold back another smile at the sight.
He was about to open his mouth to tease Felix again when Felix pressed a finger against his lips, pinning Minho with a glare that was probably supposed to be intimidating but actually just made him look like a kitten.
“Stop teasing me, hyung,” Felix said, voice laced with an unexpected level of conviction, “I know you’re just trying to make me forget about what just happened and, as much as I understand, I’m not going to let you do that.”
Minho’s eyes widened at the comment, surprised at how Felix was spot-on with his words, giving Minho a second to process them before he was speaking again.
“So, now I’m going to walk you home and tuck you into bed and you’re going to actually sleep, because you need it and it’ll make you feel better,” Felix sounded serious as he spoke and Minho could only nod. Felix merely smiled in response and helped Minho off the floor, clasping Minho’s fingers with one hand and picking up both his and Minho’s bags with the other.
“Wait, you don’t need to carry tha-“ Minho tried to argue but Felix was turning around and glaring at him before he’d even gotten the words out, still looking like a kitten but a kitten that Minho decided he most definitely didn’t want to argue with as Felix narrowed his eyes in a stern look that almost matched his voice.
The night air was cold as they stepped out into it, and Minho was suddenly glad Felix was still next to him as they began their quiet walk home. The sky was looming over them and the streets were deadly silent, Minho all too aware of how horrible his thoughts would have been if he’d been left to walk home alone after his breakdown. The silence seemed so much easier to deal with when he could drown it out with music and dance, the light source being glorious moonlit windows rather than dying cigarette ends and flickering lampposts.
Maybe, that was why Felix had decided to stay by Minho’s side, maybe he knew how Minho felt all along, maybe he just didn’t want to be alone himself.
But no matter what the reason was, Minho knew he was grateful.
It only took them another 10 minutes to reach Minho’s dorm room, Felix pulling the key out Minho’s bag and opening the door for them, gently pulling them both inside.
Minho was both relieved and surprised to find that his roommates were asleep, knowing just how bad their sleeping habits could be at times and how tired they must have been if they were asleep already. He couldn’t help but smile proudly at the thought as he pulled Felix towards his room, gesturing at the door and letting Felix lead him inside.
Felix’s fingers were soft as they helped Minho out of his shirt, sending lightning sparking up his skin as he allowed himself to be taken care of. He was made to drink a couple of sips of water and a soft tissue was wiped softly over his tear-stained face before he was carefully laid down in the bed, Felix pulling the covers over him with a gentle smile.
“There you go, hyung,” Felix whispered as he leaned over the bed to card his fingers through Minho’s hair a couple of times, waiting until Minho’s eyes closed in contentment before he grazed his lips lightly over his forehead, “Sleep well.”
Felix had been about to turn around to leave when a warm hand grabbed his wrist, fingertips rubbing lightly over his veins and sending electricity sparking up his arm as he whipped round. He found Minho staring up at him with tired doe eyes, hair falling messily over his forehead and making him look so young and innocent as he looked at Felix from the bed.
“Stay.”
It was a single word, a single word laced with so many different requests that Felix heard loud and clear as they echoed through his mind.
Stay with me, so it’ll be warm again.
Stay with me, so you can chase the bad dreams away.
Stay with me, so I won’t be alone anymore.
Felix wouldn’t… couldn’t… ever deny anyone like that, so he felt every drop of tension melt away from him as he nodded, shedding his own shirt and lifting the covers to crawl into the bed with Minho. Minho responded with a happy sigh, burying his face in Felix’s chest and letting him wrap his arms around him as they melted against one another, all worries fading away as they relished in the skin-to-skin contact.
“Goodnight, hyung,” Felix whispered into Minho’s hair, shivering warmly when Minho whispered his response into Felix’s bare chest.
“Goodnight angel.”