Work Text:
Lee Minho is a man who appreciates his 7 to 8 hours of sleep. His friends know that, his family members know that. Everyone knows to not wake him up unless they want to deal with a grumpy Minho for the first few hours of being woken up.
He supposes that he never got to share this information with whoever it’s knocking desperately against his window at–he turns around, one eye barely open to check the time–2:09 in the fucking morning. At first he thought it could be a bird, a rat maybe even a raccoon that decided to climb a little too high through the fire scape ladders, that it would go away eventually. But it’s 2:13, and the tapping although less intense, it's still going–definitely it’s someone out there, someone who doesn’t know how much Minho appreciates his sleep, someone who’s about to be cursed out. So. Minho sits up with a loud groan, rubs his eyes with his fists and blinks maybe twenty times in less than half a minute to try and wake up enough to be able to stand up and go investigate.
Cursing under his breath, he doesn’t even bother by turning on any light. He just goes to his window and opens the curtain. And that’s when Minho, once again has to blink multiple times and rub his eyes to ensure he’s not hallucinating somehow because, the taping is coming from none other than one pale looking Han Jisung, with half his clothes torn to shreds, and big claw marks all over his fucking chest.
He’s smiling sideways, a bit wobbly, and he stops the taping to wave weakly at Minho, who is frozen in place, a million thoughts run through his brain about how on earth did Jisung get those injuries. The man in question takes a deep breath in with difficulty and speaks: “Lino-hyung, can you let me in? Please…” His whole face scrunches up in pain.
Minho doesn’t really hear him, just reads his lips. He’s moving after that, that single expression of pain enough to throw him into his ER nurse mode. He’s quick on opening the window, the chill air enters and sends shivers down his spine, but he stays focused on Jisung. Scans him up and down. The man is shivering, clearly in pain, bleeding–but smiling his pretty smile, just for Minho. It’s weak, but still as beautiful as the first time he smiled his way.
Minho takes a deep breath, eyes back on Jisung’s. What the fuck is my life, he thinks, sighing loudly.
Jisung clicks his tongue, “you’re not… gonna let me… come in?” His breaths are laboured and he can barely speak louder than a mumble.
“Hannie what the fuck,” he curses and goes to grab him, one hand on his lower back to help him steadying. He slowly turns from where he was sitting with his legs facing outward his window, and with his free hand Minho helps him put both legs inside his small studio apartment. “Fuck, okay. Can you walk?” Jisung just nods. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” A bit reluctantly, Minho lets go.
As soon as he does, he’s moving fast towards his bathroom where he keeps all the supplies he accidentally takes home after his shifts. Some are not accidents, and he’s glad for that because what the hell is he supposed to do with just some saline solution and a few gauzes? Thank god he’s got a few stitching kits with him.
He sneaks a glance to the mirror and cringes when he sees himself with bed hair and some pillow wrinkles indents on his right cheek. He thinks for a second to comb his hair quickly, but a stumble and a loud groan have him zooming outside his bathroom, turning the light off on his way out.
Jisung has moved successfully to Minho’s L shaped couch. His chest is still moving in a way he doesn’t like, but the bleeding seems to be slowing down. He puts on some gloves, sits down on the floor to get a better look. Thankfully, the moon has decided to shine bright tonight.
He starts by grabbing Jisung’s hands and actually applying pressure to the wounds, because Jisung is holding the blood drenched… fabrics (he can’t tell what piece of clothing it is) against his injuries too weakly. After a whiny groan, Jisung pouts at him. Minho ignores that, even if it's adorable. He doesn’t want Jisung to bleed out on his couch, after all. “Keep the pressure like this, okay? What happened.” He demands, removing his hands from the bloody fabric and opening his kits, his gauzes, and a big vial of saline. He had half the mind to bring a few towels, and that’s what he puts wherever he can to catch the blood and avoid getting it on the couch or the floor.
“Lizard man… got angry at me,” he shrugs. Then winces.
“Of course, that explains a lot. Thanks, Jisung.” He shakes his head, fondly, trying to hide a smile.
“What! Is the… is the truth.” He sees his little cheeky smile and has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his own in check.
“Why was he angry at you?” He asks and takes a deep breath. He slowly removes the ruined clothes to reveal the injuries and fuck. The scratches look… bad. Deep enough for stitches, and there’s six in total. Somehow, Jisung got lucky enough and none of them touch his tattoos. He’s secretly glad about that, for some reason. “Jesus, Han-ah, what the hell happened? Did you get into a Spider-man crossfire again?”
“S-sort of.” The small smile is gone, and Minho is frowning now.
“What the fuck. You’ll need stitches.” He says, getting up and sitting down on the couch, besides Jisung’s body. He whines and starts shaking his head, but Minho ignores that. “Isn’t this like the third time? Han-ah you need to be more careful, forget about getting those pictures of him, you’re gonna get yourself killed.” He hopes Jisung is too out of it to hear the desperate tone of his voice.
He still remembers the first time they met. Minho was working a crazy shift, and just two hours before he was due to clock out, a fight between Spider-man and whoever villain was on due that day broke out close to his hospital. A bunch of civilians got caught in the crossfire, amongst those many, Han Jisung. He looked worse, somehow, than all the others. A bad concussion to his head paired with a black eye and a broken arm.
He had smiled that lovely smile at Minho, tried to wink with his good eye and say, “no worries, nurse Minho! I heal fast!”
True to his word, Jisung did heal faster than average. At the time, Minho just thought: good for him, specially after Jisung told him about his job as a photographer and how he was determined to be the best and only when it came to photographing Spider-man. He thought that would be it: take care of him for the remaining two hours of his shift, and he’d never see Han Jisung in person again, that he would only think of him every time a he’d see picture of Spider-man with credits to his name on the news or on papers, a simple thought of ‘ha, I helped this man once’.
But then, Jisung kept showing up to bring him coffee or pastries, and he would bring extra for other nurses to snack on too. He’d ask around about when Minho was on shift, all his colleagues making fun of him. Felix (his favorite new grad nurse) even got the doctors on the gossip. “He’s clearly flirting, hyung.” He’d say, with a mischievous look and dancing eyebrows. Minho would just roll his eyes and mouth “Dr. Bang.” Felix would turn so red so fast, that he’d leave him alone for at least a few hours.
Minho can’t say he wasn’t charmed by the photographer–he fell from that very first smile and being called nurse Minho multiple times until he told him he could just call him Lino, Minho or hyung.
The second time it happened, Minho wasn’t on shift yet. But he got a call from Felix. A simple, “Hannie got himself in a crossfire again.” By that time, they were on nickname levels–Felix and Jisung had become good friends as well, calling each other twins and having a bunch of stuff in common they’d bonded over. He remembers clocking in earlier just to make sure he would get Jisung as a patient, hoping that he’d still be at the ER by the time of the shift change.
The next few months were quiet, for Spider-man, to Minho’s own peace of mind. Jisung had become someone in his life without him even realizing it. They’d see each other at least twice a week, go out to eat or for walks, share interests on anime and movies, going to the other’s places... and he’d been refusing to call their outings dates because Jisung never asked him properly, and neither did Minho. So it’s been floating there, the tension between them, never named, not acted on for the few months they’ve known each other.
He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Jisung gets himself killed, though.
“I… I won’t get myself killed, d-don’t worry, baby.” Minho stops his movements for half a second, and then continues on pouring the saline. Jisung has never called him baby before–at least, not in a serious way. It's very uncalled for, how his stomach fills with butterflies and his heart skips a beat. “And-and I don’t… I don’t need stitches.” To that, Minho snorts.
“Like hell you do. Now shut up and let me work.” He carefully starts damping the gauze on each scratch, making sure to keep applying pressure while he cleans them. It seems like it’s mostly slowed down, and he releases a long breath when he’s sure Jisung isn’t actively bleeding anymore.
He discards the last stained gauze, and reaches for the stitching kit when he’s stopped mid movement again by a cold, bloody hand, against his cheek. He can’t do anything else but look straight into those big, doe eyes that stare back intensely. A beautiful half smile, and he seems to be breathing more normally.
“I went to find you… at the ER first.” He swallows.
Minho feels his eye twitch. “And you didn’t stay there?”
Jisung shakes his head, and his fingers caress his cheek gently, barely there. It still makes him shiver, and he doesn’t really try to hide it. “I wanted to see you.” He mumbles, and tries to sit up to get closer. He hisses in pain and Minho is right there to catch him.
“Stop, don’t move–” he gets cut off by Jisung’s nose almost bumping his own. His breath hitches and he pulls back, clearing his throat softly. “Don’t– I have to stitch you up. Keep still.”
But Jisung stops him once again, this time he tightens his hold on his cheek, forcing him to keep looking down at him. He’s resting all his weight on his elbow and Minho hates how attractive he looks even when he’s all whiny and wounded. He has no right.
“I heal fast, nurse Minho, remember?”
That makes him chuckle and shake his head. “Jisung-ah, those cuts are deep.”
“It’s okay–”
“They won’t close on their own without stitches,” Minho insists.
“They will, trust me, okay?” He’s still smiling, and Minho has to make an outstanding effort to keep his eyes up, not let them wander lower to his bit swollen lips or lower, to his toned abdomen or how big his biceps are…
So he rolls his eyes and pulls away, Jisung’s hand dropping slowly to rest on his belly, away from his cuts thankfully. Minho doesn’t want to clean them again.
“I’m the nurse and you’re the patient.” He says, amused, reaching again for the open kit. Jisung is now pouting. “Don’t pout. I don’t have local anesthetics here so you’ll have to suck it up.”
“I don’t need stitches!” He insists, and if Minho is honest, he does look a little bit better than when he arrived. Less pale, and no active bleeding which is… a bit odd. “I need a bandage at most and my Lino-hyung’s wonderful cooking maybe, because I’m starving…”
“Han-ah, I won’t leave these cuts with just a bandage–” Jisung just whines and plops down on the couch, head turning away from Minho. “They’ve could’ve done this in the ER much more simple and quicker, I don’t get why you just didn’t stay there–”
“Because I wanted you to heal me and you weren’t there!” He whines, voice muffled by the cushions, but Minho’s heart still backflips on his chest.
He pretends the words didn’t affect him. “And God knows how bad these got on your way here, because you decided to not get them checked out at the ER but instead you got here and climbed the fire escape ladder instead of knocking on my door like a normal human being!” He keeps rambling, trying to pull the stitch needle out of his little package, but his fingers are trembling a bit much for his liking.
He doesn’t like stitching, but he’ll do it for Jisung. Once he finally has the needle attached and secured on his clamp, Jisung decides to speak again.
“I didn’t climb…” he mumbles, face still facing the couch.
“What.” Minho feels his eye start to twitch again, and his hold on the clamp is so strong he’s sure his knuckles are white underneath his blood stained glove.
Jisung pulls away from the couch and sits up, hissing lightly this time. Minho’s hands tremble with the need to go help him, but he’s holding a needle so he needs to be careful. Jisung stares at him for long seconds. Then, he scoots closer, putting Minho’s hand down and back to the small plastic sterile container. The clamp with the needle hit it with a small thump. Minho is about to tell him he’s got another kit and that he won’t save himself from getting properly patched up, but Jisung beats him to it.
“I swung here.”
Minho stares at him. He seems completely serious, and it clicks that he probably got hit in the head. Because, what? “You swung here.”
“Yep.” He nods, his bottom lip shining as he pouts yet again. “With my webs.”
“Your webs? Okay–” Minho chuckles and stands up. He pulls his gloves out and throws the ball in the general direction of his trash can, as well as grabbing the used kit and putting it down on his kitchen counter/dinner table. “Someone hit his head pretty badly, huh?” He goes to ruffle Jisung’s messy curls and starts feeling for bumps or scratches along his scalp, anything really, when he speaks again.
“I did! Because I’m Spider-man!” He groans, frustrated. And Minho straight out laughs this time, even if he feels his belly drop to the floor, for some reason.
“Okay Spider-man.” He keeps chuckling, and when he walks a few steps away, Jisung’s eyes are big and round and his face is dead serious. Minho falters, just for one second. “I’m getting another stitch kit, and a new pair of gloves.”
He’s barely turned around when something attaches to his hand. He looks and it’s a white kind of string? And then a pull, that makes him face the couch again. And it's Jisung, with his arm stretched out and the string coming from his wrist and he’s pulling with his other hand to make Minho walk back to him. His muscles are strained as he pulls and pulls, until Minho is sitting right beside him again.
Silence. Jisung’s big doe eyes on him. He’s studying him, his reactions to what just happened. But Minho’s brain is short-circuiting. He’s probably blinking wide eyed, his mouth open in surprise and stuck like that.
Because, suddenly, it all makes sense. Why Jisung is always caught in crossfires and injured worst than the other civilians. Why his pictures of Spider-man are so good. Why he heals faster than the average adult.
Why he showed up in the middle of the night to his apartment window instead of his front door.
He could say a million things. Ask how, ask why, ask since when, ask why didn’t he tell him sooner. But he goes with: “d-does this stuff come out of your body?”
Jisung’s cheeks puff and then he’s exhaling a surprised laugh. It’s a beautiful sound, and it makes Minho smile even if he’s still a little shocked. “Is that really the first question that came to your mind?” He asks between giggles, and he’s getting closer again, and maybe Minho won’t stop him this time.
“Yeah. Does it?” He chuckles, and Jisung is biting his lip. Minho allows his eyes to drop and stare.
Something shifted, between them, just right now. Maybe knowing all of Jisung makes him not want to hold back any longer, maybe for Jisung it’s the same. Minho isn’t hiding any secret identity, though.
“No, it doesn’t.” That’s when Minho notices there’s been a zip up hoodie surrounding Jisung’s back and sleeves all this time. He pulls up one of the sleeves and there's a small, metal… thingy attached to it, like a bracelet but bigger, wider. “It comes from my web shooter that I invented, along with the web fluid.” He’s smiling so proudly, and he looks so cute and adorable and Minho wants to take a bite out of him.
But, since he can’t just bite him, he teases. “Web fluid?” His cheeks immediately turn pink and he’s hitting his chest with no force behind it.
“Hyung!”
Minho just giggles and ruffles his hair again. “Let me bandage you, okay?”
“No stitches?” He smiles, wide and hopeful.
“No stitches, Spider-man.”
“Thank god, I hate needles.” It makes Minho giggle again.
“So a lizard man it’s fine but you draw the line at needles?”
“Yeah!”
“You’re ridiculous.” He sighs, smiling and not trying to hide the affection on his eyes, his smile, his voice. He gets up, “strip, I’ll get you clean clothes.”
He nods. A beat, and he starts walking towards his closet to get a cotton shirt, some underwear and sweatpants when Jisung’s voice calls him quietly. “Lino-hyung…”
“Yes?” he turns around to find him standing, his hoodie already off.
“You’re okay with this?”
“With what?” He asks, perfectly knowing why, but for some reason wanting Jisung to say it out loud again.
“Me. Being Spider-man…” Minho smiles and walks back to the couch to leave the clothes there. He scoots down to grab what he assumes used to be Jisung’s shirt and his hoodie, the towels he put down that thankfully caught all the blood, effectively saving his floor and coach from getting stained. He tries to catch all of it with the clean parts of the towel, but some of his fingers still get a bit bloody.
“Yes, Hannie.” He looks at him until Jisung sighs and nods. Then he turns around to give him privacy and hurries to get to the bathroom. “Don’t put the shirt just yet! I still need to bandage you.”
“As you wish, nurse Minho!”
He smiles to himself when he gets to his bathroom, and throws all the stained stuff on his bath. He plugs it in and runs the cold water while he washes his hands. Once he’s blood-free, he runs his wet hands through his hair and face. His reflection in the mirror looks a bit more put together, and he sighs, a permanent small smile glued to his lips ever since Jisung trapped him with one of his webs.
And it hits him that he’s had a crush on Spider-man all these months. What even is my life. He gathers all the supplies he has, and a new pair of gloves. When he returns, Jisung is in the same position he’s been almost all this time, resting on his couch, head against the cushions of the L shape. Without a shirt, his web shooters clearly visible now, a hazy look on his face. Right, it probably still hurts a lot, even if it's getting better.
He sits down, and smiles down at this lovely man that brings him coffee and pastries, this man who is freaking Spider-man. “Alright bug boy. Stay still,” he mumbles, a ghost of a smile while he sees Jisung’s eyes widen, his cheeks darkening to the prettiest cherry pink.
He sits up, completely ignoring how Minho just asked him to stay still. They’re close again, noses just a few centimeters away from touching. He has the brightest smile on, but Minho can see the strain around his doe eyes, trying to push down the pain. “What did you just call me.”
“Bug.” A beat where both of them just stare. He swallows, another beat passes. Then: “Please, let me wrap you up so I can reheat some food, and you can take something for the pain, alright?”
Jisung nods, so close, his nose almost, almost bumping into Minho’s. For a few seconds, Minho thinks he’s gonna kiss him, but then he sits back, and Minho gets to work immediately, ignoring the heat he feels on his own cheeks, on his own belly. He uses all the gauze left he had plus two rolls of bandages, but Jisung’s wound wrappings look good and clean.
“All good?” Jisung asks. Minho nods, gets his gloves off and goes for the shirt, helping Jisung putting it on. “Thank you, Lino-hyung.”
“Of course, bug.”
“Are you gonna call me that forever now?” Jisung chuckles, and they’re still in the same position, none of them making any effort to move just yet.
This time, Minho leans just a tad bit closer. “Maybe. You don’t like it?” His hand comes up to pull Jisung’s hair behind his ear. It stays there, for some reason, his fingers massaging lightly and carefully.
Jisung closes his eyes and hums. “I do.” He whispers, leaning even closer. Minho can see him perfectly, even if they’re barely lightened by the cool moonbeams that sneak through the curtain Minho left open when he got Jisung inside.
The tension has risen between them, and maybe Minho should just… let go. Take the first step, it’d be so easy, with Jisung right there in front of him, so pliant and so trusting. Minho trusts him too, that’s why he leans closer and softly kisses the mole of his cheek. Jisung’s breath catches in his throat and his hands come up to fist at the collar of his shirt. He stays there for a few seconds nuzzling lightly with his nose, slowly drifting towards his lips.
When their noses bump and their lips brush, Minho gasps. “Sungie…”
“Baby,” he responds on the same breath, and that’s it. Their lips are crashing in what should be a desperate collide, but it’s not.
It’s soft, it’s sweet. It’s delicate, and it’s intimate, and it’s perfect. Everything about it is slow but passionate, they fit together like two puzzle pieces, and Minho moves his hand to pull Jisung closer by the back of his neck, and he responds with a whine right into his mouth. It’s the perfect opportunity to sneak his tongue inside, and Jisung opens beautifully for him with another whiny sigh. They kiss deeply and slow for a while, time stopping around them as they devour each other. They pull away to catch their breaths, but they never stray long from each other, pestering kisses all over the other or sneaking small pecks between breaths. When Jisung licks his bottom lip to ask for permission to kiss him with tongue, Minho feels like dying. He must be, because he’s never been kissed like this before. With so much care, with some much detail, his breathy sounds and grunts getting caught every time by the prettiest mouth. His head is spinning and he’s starting to feel lightheaded, when Jisung leaves a lingering peck and retreats just enough to have their foreheads touching. Minho can’t help himself, and he bumps his nose with Jisung, making the photographer chuckle breathlessly.
“Bug?”
“Hm?” When he opens his eyes, he finds Jisung already looking at him. Minho really can’t control himself and leans in to peck his swollen lips one, two, three times until he’s giggling. Now that he’s tasted him, he’ll never be able to hold back.
“All good?”
Now it’s Jisung who kisses his nose, his cheek, his lips. “Never been better, baby.”
Minho physically trembles and sucks in a sharp breath, closing his eyes. “I really like when you call me baby.”
“Oh, is that so?” Jisung asks, the words spoken right against his lips. Minho can only nod, as Jisung leans in to kiss him deeply again. He doesn’t know how long he’s at Jisung’s mercy, but he enjoys every last second of it. “God, your mouth, baby.” He sighs, and Minho should definitely put some distance between them right now. “It’s so pretty, it’s so perfect.”
“Fuck, Jisung. Bug. So it’s yours, so are you.”
“I like it too, that you decided to call me bug, by the way.” He smiles, and he seems to be a bit strained and oh shit, that's right. Jisung is severely injured and their little making out session probably just made it worse. “Even if I’m not a bug, I’m an arachnid.”
“You just said ‘I’m not a bug, I’m a bug’ to me.” He snorts, kissing him one last time before finally parting away. “Come on, let hyung properly take care of you, hm?”
He stands up and offers both his hands to help him get to his feet, which Jisung does, but then he circles both his muscular arms around Minho’s neck and jumps with a small hiss. He catches him, of course, and laughs when he realizes Jisung wants to be carried around the apartment.
“Can’t you just keep kissing me better?” He speaks right by the juncture of Minho’s neck and shoulder, the hot breath against his skin making him feel lightheaded all over again.
“After you eat and take some medicine, alright?”
“Alright.” He agrees, and then he plants a small kiss on his neck that makes Minho’s brain break for like the third time tonight. He stumbles, even, and Jisung’s sneaky laughter makes his heart bloom on his chest.
“Evil little bug,” he mumbles, depositing him carefully on the counter. “Want to kill me, don't you?”
“No!” He pouts. He’s sitting adorably while he waits for his food, his legs swinging against the counter softly. “Who’s gonna be my big baby if you die?”
“Shut up.” Minho shakes his head as Jisung laughs again, but remains quiet.
He gets a big bowl and opens his fridge, pulling out all the tappers and containers with his meal preps for the week. He manages to plate Jisung a decent meal with a little bit of everything, and he throws it in the microwave–too lazy to heat it properly on a pan. He’s putting everything away when Jisung sighs and speaks again.
“I can’t believe it took you this long to finally kiss me, I’ve been flirting with you for months.” When Minho turns around with a glass full of fresh water, he finds Jisung, the man who has, in deed, been flirting with him for months, freaking Spider-man, rolling his eyes at him, making grabby hands at the glass while he keeps swinging his legs against his kitchen counter. “I was starting to think you were immune to my cuteness!”
“Never.” He admits, shrugging.
“I took you on so many dates! And you never kissed me at the end of them,” he’s properly pouting again, taking small sips of water in between his words.
“You never kissed me either.” Minho points out, and the microwave beeps. He fishes a pair of chopsticks while Jisung sticks his tongue out at him. He hands him the plate and the chopsticks, and Jisung’s eyes widen comically for a second.
“Hyung! This is too much food–”
“Yes, and you are gonna eat all of it.”
“No! Share with me, here,” he grabs some pork and shoves it in Minho’s direction. He’s looking at him expectantly, so he takes the bite and can’t help but swallow around a smile when he sees the bright look feeding him put on Jisung’s face. They eat for a while in silence, Minho accepting every bite Jisung offers, sitting beside him on the counter, his head resting on Jisung’s shoulder.
He really likes the domesticity they share already, and well. If he considers all those outings as dates which is what they were, apparently, it shouldn’t surprise him. He’s decided to just… flow, with whatever happens. He knows he’s gonna worry himself sick, having a boyfriend that’s literally a superhero but–
Wait.
“Sungie.”
“Yes?”
“Be my boyfriend?”
The sound of the platter being put down catches his attention, and he lifts his head to sneak a glance and make sure Jisung ate it all (he did) when a hand is grabbing him by the chin and making him look straight into doe eyes. He turned on the warm light when they entered the kitchen, and he can see traces of tears and sweat and a bit of blood on his gorgeous face.
“Baby.”
“Hm?” The squeeze gets stronger.
“Yes.” He smiles, all squishy and sideways under Jisung’s grasp. “Obviously. I’ve wanted to date you since the first time I saw you.”
“That long?” Jisung just nods, letting go. “Hm. Well, we got here.”
“We got here,” he smiles that beautiful smile of his, and Minho kisses his mole again.
“I'll get you medicine, wait here.”
“Where would I go?” He hears him ask to himself while he does a quick trip to the bathroom cabinet. Minho just laughs and comes back with a pill that Jisung takes without question. After he swallows, he makes grabby hands at him once more, and Minho obligues. He ends up between Jisung’s legs, his face pressed to his chest. Minho’s hands come to start rubbing soothing slow circles at his back, which Jisung hums at, appreciative. “Don’t you have questions?”
“About what, bug?”
“About me? How I became Spider-man? The lizard man? Or.. I don’t know. Stuff.”
Minho kisses the crown of his head, and talks against it when he replies: “I do. But isn’t it a bit late right now? We should sleep. I have a night shift tomorrow, you can tell me all about it during the day. How does that sound?”
“That sounds perfect, except for the fact that I have work tomorrow.” He groans. Minho pulls back and stares.
“You’re not going to work tomorrow, are you insane? You have open wounds on your chest, Jisung-ah.”
“I heal fast, remember?” He asks, voice little, biting his lower lip. “And my closest coworkers, Innie and Minnie, know I’m Spider-man.”
“I don’t care, call in sick. I can tell Dr. Bang to give you a note.”
“Lixie’s doctor?” He perks up. Right, yes, Jisung is friends with Felix. Twins!
“That’s the one, and he owns me many favors, so don’t worry bug. Let's go to bed, alright?”
“Okay.” He koala-hugs Minho again, and attached like that, he carries them to his unmade bed. He doesn’t even spare a glance at the clock, he practically falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. “Thank you again, baby.” Is the last thing he hears after falling into the softness of sweet dreams full of doe eyes and cute bugs.