You Never Do Until You Do It

by versity

Summary:

Chan's new neighbour gets up to all sorts of things. Rather questionable things, really. He decides the best course of action is to not get too involved, but was that ever really up to him?

Notes:

Written for MinChan Fest.
Title from LP's Tightrope. Only tangentially related to the story itself but I needed a title to publish.

***

 

It’s been… hard. Ending an almost ten year long relationship, no matter how certain he was that it wasn’t going to work out, is hard. Chan knows he needs to give himself time to get used to it, to get used to how dark and empty his apartment is when he gets home at night, and to how he still sometimes thinks he should send Youngmi whatever picture or video he comes across because he knows she’ll like it. There’s a relief to no longer having to keep up a conversation he long didn’t know how to entertain anymore, but there’s a certain sense of being lost in it as well.

He falls asleep on the couch more often now that he no longer has someone telling him to come to bed, because at least on the couch he can stare at the television until sleep pulls him under. It’s not going well, he can admit to himself, he’s definitely still acclimatising and trying to get used to life as it is going to be from here on out. It is, however, not going horribly either. He’s not missing any days at work, he’s not crying his heart out every night, he’s not feeling completely lost and alone. Only a little. Only sometimes. When there’s no one to pull closer at night when he’s cold, for example, or when there’s no little reminder notes on the fridge that food has been left for him on the nights he works late shifts.

It’s been hard, and Chan’s been trying his best, which he thinks is all that can be expected of him. Changbin agrees with him, of course, and because Changbin agrees, so does Jisung. To have his two best friends’ love and support is all he really needs for now, and their plentiful weekend visits keep him from turning completely into a rotting plant so he can’t complain. He doesn’t complain. He just hopes that the emptiness that sits somewhere right below his midriff will fill up again soon.

It’s an unassuming day like any other when his doorbell is rung on a random Wednesday. He looks up in confusion, wondering if perhaps he forgot he ordered food, but no. The empty containers sit on the coffee table in front of him and they’re definitely not yesterday’s leftovers, because he ate out last night. A quick check of his phone ensures that neither Jisung nor Changbin warned him they’d be coming over, so it is with a slight frown and a hint of confusion that he unlocks his front door and pulls it open.

There’s a man on the other side, a little taller than him, hair pushed up with a soft white panda-themed hairband, wearing sweatpants and slippers and an outrageously pink sweater that for a few long seconds is all Chan can see. Then he manages to drag his eyes back up, to take in the man’s face instead.

“Good evening,” the man says, seeming completely unbothered by any of Chan’s behaviour and offering him an easygoing smile. “My name is Lee Minho, I just moved into three-two-four last weekend.” He motions to the left and Chan briefly leans forward to look outside, trying to catch up to what he’s being told. Oh. The new tenant next door, right. He did see some of the moving boxes in the hallway when he came home Saturday night. They were gone on Sunday, so he didn’t really think of that again.

“Ah yes, hello,” he manages, a little hesitant because he’s still not sure what this is. Is Minho trying to introduce himself to his neighbours? Is this the outfit he picked for it? Sure, Chan didn’t expect him to dress up in a suit and tie, but perhaps no headband would have been a little more… Well, at least less like an auntie.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you so late in the evening, but I happen to have just locked myself out of my apartment and since our balconies are close together I was wondering if I could quickly go through there to get in. I left my balcony door unlocked, so it’ll be much faster than trying to reach my landlord.”

Oh. Oh!

“Oh, damn, that sucks. I mean, you’re welcome to try but it seems a little dangerous? Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Absolutely. No worries. I used to do this all the time at my previous apartment. I intend to give one of my friends a key this time around, but I’ve not yet been able to get a copy made.”

Lee Minho from three-two-four’s smile is natural, easy. He looks unbothered by the entire situation, the way he’s dressed, the no doubt incredulous look Chan is giving him and the fact he just admitted to climbing balconies more often. Giving the man one more brief once-over, Chan decides to step aside to let the man in.

“Well, come in then. But please be careful.”

Minho bows his gratitude, stepping into his apartment before lingering long enough for Chan to close the door and precede him further inside. He walks straight through to the balcony door, unlocking it and sliding it open in order to allow Minho to step outside. He follows along, if only because he feels responsible for making sure the man doesn’t just jump straight off his balcony, or something terrifying like that. They’re not super high up - third floor, of course - but they’re high enough that it wouldn’t end well, especially with all the concrete.

When they’re both standing outside, though, Chan can only eye the distance between the railing of both their balconies, staring at it with some trepidation. Minho luckily seems to have the same concerns, or similar ones at least, because he turns to look at him slowly. “You, uh, you don’t happen to have something sturdy that I could use to get across a little more easily?” He asks, and Chan goes through the mental list of things he owns.

“I’ve got an ironing board?” He offers eventually. “It’s pretty sturdy, I think. Let me go- Let’s check it out first.” He walks back inside and to his great relief, Minho follows. It’s not that hard to get the ironing board from its spot behind the bathroom door, and when he brings it out into the living room, Minho looks at it with as much consideration as Chan himself regards it with.

“Well,” his neighbour says eventually. “I’m not going to be balancing on it for an extended time, so I think it’ll do.” He flashes another one of those easygoing smiles at Chan, so he puts himself into motion again, taking the ironing board over to the balcony. He moves to put it over the gap between their balconies, as close to the wall as possible so Minho can use it for balance, and is glad to see it well crosses the distance. He makes sure to push on it as hard as he can to make sure it can hold some weight. When he’s done this check, he takes a step back, just enough to get out of the way more while still keeping a hold of his end of the ironing board.

His neighbour steps forward instantly, feeling out the sturdiness of the board for himself, looking at his own balcony and then looking down at his feet. After a moment’s contemplation, he steps out of his slippers.

“Well then,” he says when he looks back up. “Here I go. I’m terribly sorry if I bend your ironing board. I’ll reimburse you for the damages should that be the case.”

With those famous last words, Minho lifts a leg and climbs onto Chan’s balcony railing first, moving up until he’s standing upright. He seems to take a deep breath, and then suddenly he takes a step forward, bounces up off the ironing board and lands surprisingly lightly on his feet on the other balcony. Chan’s hands automatically grabbed on to the ironing board a little tighter, but it seems it’s sturdier than he feared, because it didn’t even bend all that much.

He can only watch, a little bit concerned, as his neighbour straightens up, wipes some dust off his clothes, straightens his slightly crooked headband and then turns around to look back at him. “All good,” he says, giving an easy thumbs up before dipping into another quick bow. “Thank you so much for your help.”

Chan slowly gathers his ironing board back to his side of the balcony gap, settling its legs onto the floor. “You’re welcome. Better get that spare key made tomorrow,” he suggests, though he offers a little bit of a smile. “Have a good evening for now.”

“Ah, mister neighbour sir,” Minho speaks up before he can fully turn away, and he realises he hasn’t told the man his name at all despite his earlier introduction.

“Chan,” is therefore what he offers. “Bang Chan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Bang Chan-ssi,” Minho states, clearly all too happy about being given a name. “Would you be so kind as to throw me my slippers?”

He looks down only to find the slippers indeed still on his balcony floor. Leaning the ironing board against the wall, he picks them up. It takes him a moment of considering, but then he gently throws each of them in a small arch over to the other side. Minho catches each of them in turn, holding them up like a proud father and then waving at Chan with the slippers.

“Thank you so much. Sorry again for bothering you. Have a good night!” He turns to head back inside, and Chan is left looking at his neighbour’s empty balcony. “Hello Soonie-yah,” he hears his neighbour still say, voice pitched a little higher than when he’d been talking to Chan. “Hyung briefly got caught outside, but he’s back now.” After that, the sliding door closes, and Chan startles at the sound, quickly picking up his ironing board to bring it back inside.

 

***

 

The events of that evening don’t quite leave his mind - he tells Changbin about them during their shared lunch the next day - but he does think that’ll be the end of it. Except when he comes home after his late shift that evening, there’s a tray on the floor in front of his door, covered with cellophane that reveals the neatly plated food beneath. He blinks down at it in confusion, until he stops in front of his door and finds a cat-shaped post-it note taped to the handle.

I wanted to thank you again for your help, Bang Chan-ssi. I apologise for disturbing your Wednesday evening, but I’m happy we got things sorted. I had the spare key made today, so I won’t be bothering you like that again! I made you some dinner that I hope you’ll enjoy.

He takes the note off his door handle and leans down to pick up the tray as well, heading inside of his apartment with both. He hadn’t decided yet what to order that night, so having a seemingly home-made dinner to reheat is actually delightful. Even more so when it turns out that either Minho is an amazing cook, or he knows someone who is an amazing cook. The meat in the stew practically melts on his tongue, the japchae is mixed just right and even the bowl of rice is better than anything he’s had in a while.

Since it’s much too late to try and thank his neighbour in person straight away, he simply washes the dishes when he’s done, stacks everything back on the tray and leaves it in sight so he’ll remember to take it over the next day.

He’s got an early shift on Friday, though, taking over for a sick colleague, and then dinner with his friends, followed by another early shift. The tray ends up staying on his kitchen counter until Sunday morning, when he decides he should go over, but he makes sure to wait until a more appropriate time than seven thirty in the morning.

It’s around ten when he decides he should go ring his neighbour’s doorbell, taking the tray with him. There’s no response after several long minutes of waiting, so he heads back to his own apartment to write a little note as well. When he comes back out a good ten minutes later, tray and note in hand, it’s only to see none other than Minho himself walk over from the elevator. He’s wearing sweatpants again, this time paired with a plain black shirt and a black cap pulled backwards over his hair. The different accessories especially turn him from the nondescript guy he was before into someone actually startlingly handsome.

“Oh!” His neighbour immediately says upon spotting him, eyes going over the tray and lighting up with recognition. Chan casually crumples the note in his hand, tucking it away into his pocket.

“Good morning,” he says instead. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to get around to returning this to you before, it’s been quite a busy week. But I wanted to thank you for the food, it was honestly delicious and came at a perfect time.”

Minho’s expression brightens even further. Instead of taking the tray from him, though, he simply steps forward to unlock his apartment door, pushing it open. He drops the grocery bag in his own hallway, before turning back and reaching for the tray. “I’m glad you liked it,” he says while moving, voice as easygoing and light as it had been last time as well, his smile when he turns back much of the same. “Thank you for returning these. I hope you get to rest a little today if your week was so busy,” he adds, dipping into another little bow that Chan quickly returns. The door closes behind his neighbour so fast that Chan is left standing in the hallway rather dumbly for a moment. He makes his way back inside his own apartment not too long after, though.

 

***

 

That’s that, one would say. Chan goes back to his usual life, with his early and late shifts, the occasional lunch meeting with Changbin, his best friends both crashing his apartment on Sunday afternoons and a not too unhealthy dose of takeout food. He’s got a new neighbour, sure, but Minho isn’t overly loud or annoying, and he definitely doesn’t ring Chan’s doorbell to climb the balcony again, so he doesn’t really think about him much anymore.

He spends his nights unable to sleep, though, and staring up at his ceiling as he thinks of the past eight years spent trying to make things work with Youngmi when she’d clearly clocked out at least three years ago, possibly more. Has he wasted his youth? He doesn’t necessarily want a partner, but he’s always wanted children down the road. Has he spent eight years trying to make life work only to end up in an apartment by himself with barely any more than he started with? All just because a woman didn’t want to be alone? All because she strung him along until she could find better - richer?

The thoughts haunt him in his waking hours as well, plaguing him in the supermarket, at work, on a random evening walk. They won’t leave him alone on the subway, nor during dinner. It seems like only Changbin’s loud, boisterous laughter and Jisung’s easy giggles can help quiet them down sometimes, when Chan’s mind is only filled with how much he loves his friends and how grateful he is to have them.

What also quiets them is the sight of Lee Minho next to a police car in front of their apartment, wrists cuffed behind his back. He looks entirely unbothered by his predicament, though his expression lights up when he spots Chan walking cautiously to the sidewalk.

“Bang Chan-ssi!” He calls out, and the two police officers look up at him as well. He walks closer a little cautiously, mainly confused. “I’m so glad to catch you here. Could you tell these two kind men–” He gets interrupted by one of the police officers motioning him to silence, and seems inclined to listen.

“Do you know this man?” The officer asks Chan, so he looks at Minho again before shrugging.

“Sort of? I helped him get back into his apartment when he accidentally locked himself out. Our balconies are next to each other. I’m in three-two-five, he’s in three-two-four.”

The police officer gives him a long look. “You’ve met him before that?”

“Well no, he’d moved in just a couple days earlier.”

“So you helped a stranger climb from your balcony to your neighbour’s balcony without knowing for sure that he was, in fact, your neighbour?”

The accusation is clear, and Chan feels himself flush a little. “Well he was in homewear, with a headband, clearly in the middle of getting ready for bed,” he defends himself. “I did see him again after that, because he made me food as a thank you and I returned the dishes to him.”

“So you’re certain this man is your neighbour?” The officer verifies and Chan frowns lightly.

“I’m not sure what he’s being accused of, but unless he also copied a key to unlock my neighbour’s apartment door with, and lives in our building illegally, I’m pretty sure he is my neighbour, yes.”

The officer seems to give him a long, searching look and Minho ends up sighing deeply. “Nevermind, officers,” he says, clearly resigned. “I’ll go to the station with you if you need me to. Bang Chan-ssi, would you be so kind as to feed my cats? I’d ask my friend to do it - he’s got the spare key - but he’s currently on holiday.”

“I don’t have a key to your house, though?” He replies, confused, but Minho shakes his head with his same, usual easygoing grin.

“I left the door open slightly. I was just throwing my trash out. The dry food is in the cupboard under the sink. You can pull the door closed behind yourself when you leave, I should be back tomorrow.”

Chan can’t help it, he looks at the two officers, trying to see if he’s allowed to do this. One of them shrugs, before they move to put Minho in their car so they can take him to the station, most likely.

“Sorry to bother you, sir, have a good day,” the other one tells him, and then they’re getting in the car as well. He watches them drive away, utterly baffled by what he just witnessed. The thought of Minho’s hungry cats is what startles him back into motion, causing him to turn around and head back upstairs.

Minho’s front door is indeed left ajar, for Chan to tentatively pull open further. He finds himself knocking on it cautiously, and trying to make sure no one else is in the apartment. When he enters the living area, all that greets him is an orange and white cat on the couch who eyes him with great disinterest before going back to sleep.

Not sure what else to do, he decides to look for the cat food. He finds the bag indeed under the sink, and the crinkling of its plastic seems to summon the cats from the darkest corners. There’s three of them in total, one weaving around his legs, one standing at the food bowls yowling loudly and one sitting on the armrest of the couch, staring him down.

He has no idea how much food cats usually get, but he also isn’t sure whether Minho will make it back from being arrested (or whatever that was), so he just fills each of the three bowls for about three fourths. He puts the bag of food back where he got it from after and then briefly checks their water fountain. Everything seems to be in order, their litter boxes seemingly recently cleaned as well, so his worries are settled.

Which means that when he looks around the room one last time, he notices other things. Like how the design of Minho’s interior is very nice, a sort of minimalist look to it in that there’s not a lot of trinkets around. It’s neat, though, not bare either, just enough picture frames and other memorabilia around. His kitchen possibly has the most going on, some dishes in the sink, a pot on the stove (turned off, luckily) and a few plastic containers cooling down on the counter. It’s a nice apartment, a sense of warmth to it despite the bareness, and several scratching posts and a cat tower proving the love for the three felines as well.

He realises when he’s about to walk over to one of the nearby doors how he’s practically snooping around in a near-stranger's house and almost immediately turns back to the door. He feels sort of bad leaving the cats by themselves, but he can hardly leave the door open and he doesn’t have a key to let himself back inside. So he heads over to the door anyway, double checks that all three cats are still eating and then leaves everything the way he found it on his way out.

Once outside, he pulls the door closed behind himself, turning to head to his own apartment again.

“Who are you?” Someone asks before he can take a single step. When he looks up, one of the prettiest people he’s ever seen is giving him one of the most judging looks he’s ever seen, and he immediately straightens up a little better. “And what were you doing in Minho hyung’s apartment?”

“Uh,” he says, smartly, before regaining his composure. “I’m his neighbour. I was feeding his cats.”

“Huh? Where’s hyung?”

“Well… Two police officers took him with them to the police station half an hour ago or so. I believe he was arrested, though I’m not sure for what.”

At those words, the unfairly pretty apparition lets out a series of not so pretty curses. “Not again!” He follows it up with, before promptly turning on his heels and striding over to the door that leads to the stairs, disappearing from Chan’s view.

He finds himself completely baffled for the second time that night, staring as the door to the stairwell falls closed again. After a moment of dumbly standing there, he shakes himself out of it and walks back into his own apartment.

For the rest of the night, his mind is filled with nothing but his neighbour, and the mystery of the pretty man Chan can only assume is one of Minho’s friends saying ‘not again’. Somehow his own bad decisions don’t seem quite so bad anymore, really.

 

***

 

“Bang Chan-ssi!”

His next encounter with Lee Minho happens that next Friday evening, when he’s returning home from work and the familiar yet disembodied voice reaches him as he walks up to the apartment door. He turns around to look for its owner, but doesn’t see his neighbour anywhere.

“Up here!” Minho calls, which he assumes means the man’s looking down at him from his balcony. Yet when he tilts his head upwards, Minho is not leaning over his balcony railing, rather he is dangling from the railing of a second floor balcony, both hands gripping it tightly.

“Good evening to you, Bang Chan-ssi,” he says as easygoing as ever, and Chan is starting to think that absolutely nothing could phase this man. “I hope work wasn’t too tiring for you this week.”

“Uh. No, it was… it was fine. What, um, what are you doing up there?”

“Oh, misses Kim asked me to fix her balcony railing, but I was screwing in the new bolt a little too hard because I kicked over the ladder in all my enthusiasm, so I’m just sort of waiting for mister Lee to put it back up for me.”

“Do you need help?” Chan can’t help but question, despite how unaffected Minho seems by the entire situation. He’s still dangling three stories above the ground, after all.

“That’s alright. Mrs Kim went to ring mister Lee’s doorbell to tell him to put the ladder back up. He’s a bit hard of hearing, though, so it might take a while.” Minho seems to not have any issue with that at all. “It’s a good workout, I guess,” he even says, laughing before he adds: “The view isn’t too bad either.”

Chan’s left speechless once again, with no idea how to respond to someone like this. “Oh!” Minho exclaims before he can think of something. “Thank you for feeding my siblings, by the way! Bokkie told me he saw you at my apartment on Wednesday.”

“Right,” Chan agrees. Bokkie, a strange nickname for the prettiest person alive. “You’re welcome. I checked their water and litter boxes too as I wasn’t sure how long you’d be gone. I hope you weren’t in too much trouble?”

“Oh no, don’t worry. The kind officers and I just had a slight disagreement about what I should be allowed to do on the street. It was fixed not too much later. Bokkie called up the lawyer puppy and I was out before my bedtime!”

Chan’s pretty sure anyone walking by will think Minho is insane. At this point, he’s not sure himself that his neighbour isn’t slightly crazy. ‘A slight disagreement about what he should be allowed?’ So he was breaking the law? Chan didn’t see anything unusual in Minho’s house, though, nothing that could point to any criminal activity. Then again, if he was released Wednesday evening already, it probably wasn’t anything too bad.

“So yes, thank you for taking care of my siblings. They seemed very happy about the care you provided. Are you home this weekend? You should let me make you food again as a thank you!”

Any thoughts of criminal activities leave his mind when he remembers the delicious, home-cooked meal Minho had provided him with last time. “I’m working tomorrow, but I’ll be home for dinner,” he finds himself saying, not a little bit confused yet somehow also intrigued.

“Wonderful! I’ll make sure to have dinner ready for you! You can come by when you get home, I’ll give you the food. Or you can eat it at my place, whatever you prefer!” Minho looks further down then, tilting his body slightly to the side, seemingly noticing something on the balcony below. “Ah, mister Lee!” He calls out, easygoing and delighted. “Quite the predicament I find myself in. Yes, the ladder would be helpful right now, thank you. Misses Kim, how lovely of you to get him!”

Chan keeps watching until he sees the ladder come up and Minho’s feet finding purchase on it. When the man lets go of the balcony railing to start climbing down, Chan shakes his head lightly and continues his walk to the building door, deciding there’s no need for him to meddle in his neighbour’s strange yet seemingly kind and helpful affairs.

Later that night, when Changbin calls him to try and convince him to join Jisung and him for their weekly date night, he finds himself bringing it up again. “I can’t, actually,” he offers, feeling a little silly because of it. “My neighbour, you know the one whose cats I fed when he got arrested, offered to make me dinner to thank me and I said I’d be home tomorrow.”

“The Lee Minho guy? So he was released?” Changbin asks, sounding highkey amused about the whole thing. Chan can’t blame him, honestly, it is a little funny.

“Yeah. He was dangling from a second floor balcony when I came home because the ladder he’d been using fell over. Had a whole conversation with me while just dangling by his hands until the first floor neighbour came to pick the ladder up.”

“Damn.” This time, Changbin sounds impressed. Chan is too, honestly. Pull-ups are hard, but just dangling from the bar trying to gain the courage for another one isn’t a walk in the park either. It’s possibly the only reason his back muscles exist. “You’ve been talking about this guy so much already I almost feel like he’s my neighbour, it’s crazy.”

There’s talking in the background and then Changbin relays: “Jisung says he keeps imagining the actor, but with his curls from Boys Before Flowers, so you really have to sneak a pic sometime so we can finally know who to imagine.”

There’s more talking in the background and then Changbin laughs. He doesn’t need to relay anything, though, because there’s some shuffling sounds and then it’s Jisung’s voice speaking into his ear. “Or we could have date night at your apartment so we can finally meet your new neighbour, hyung! Is he hot?”

“You’re taken,” Chan immediately counters and Jisung huffs.

“That’s a minor detail. I’m not married, my boyfriend is still up for change.”

“Hey!” Changbin yells in the background, followed by Jisung’s cackles that soon turn into screeches as he’s no doubt being pulled in to get tickled for his crimes. Not long after, Changbin seems to regain hold of the phone. “Hyung, we won’t camp out at your apartment tomorrow, but we’ll be there Sunday. Maybe you can invite him to movie night. Get to know him better. If he’s really crazy we just never invite him again.”

“Mhm. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“Don’t think too hard, we wouldn’t want it to hurt!” Jisung’s voice sounds up, a little muffled. Chan can perfectly imagine him strangled in one of Changbin’s loving punishment-hugs, still determined to be a pain in the ass despite it.

“Yeah, hyung,” Changbin agrees, because of course they’ll gang up on him no matter what. “Jisungie wants to try a new board game on Sunday as well, so try to keep your single brain cell intact until then!”

Rolling his eyes at the teasing, Chan can’t help the smile that forms on his face because of it. “Goodbye,” is all he says, grabbing his phone to turn off the call. It takes all of five seconds before a message hits their group chat. We love you Channie hyung!!!!!! See you on Sunday!!!!!!!! He’s pretty sure Jisung wrote it, but it could’ve just as well been Changbin.

They may tease him, they may bicker, but when it comes down to it, they really are the most important people in his life, and the ones who will have his back no matter what. It’s shown as well in how they’ve been unfailingly supporting him since the breakup, always trying to make sure he doesn’t feel too lonely and that he doesn’t let things get too bad.

With them by his side, he thinks it won’t be too hard to figure out his next move. Though if his neighbour keeps appearing quite so randomly in his life, his next move might be more unpredictable than he thinks.

 

***

 

Saturday evening comes around all too soon, though he’s glad to be done with work. He’s a little less sure about just walking up to his neighbour’s door and ringing the bell, but he knows that if he goes home first, he’ll sit down, and once he sits down he’ll never get up again. So he dutifully trudges from the elevator to three-two-four and presses the button.

It takes a minute, but then there’s the sound of the door unlocking before it’s pulled open. “Bang Chan-ssi!” Minho says upon spotting him, like he’s delighted or surprised, but the smile accompanying the word looks more like the first. “Come on in! You’re earlier than I expected, I just put dinner on. It’ll be done in twenty minutes. Come in. Close the door, please. Sit, sit, sit!”

Minho’s a whirlwind of motion and sound, barely giving him a chance to get a greeting in sideways before he’s moving further into the apartment to get back to his kitchen. Chan is waved over to either a chair or the couch, he’s not quite sure himself which of the options, but he makes sure to take off his shoes first before going anywhere. In the end, he walks into the kitchen, because he’s not sure he should stay.

“Minho-ssi, I think that if I sit down I won’t be able to get up again,” he says honestly, pulling Minho’s attention back to him. “I appreciate the offer of a meal, but I can come and pick it up some other time if you’ve made more for me. I’m super tired right now, so I don’t think I’ll even stay awake long enough for you to finish.” He offers an apologetic smile, but Minho’s easygoing attitude doesn’t falter even once.

“Oh don’t worry about it,” he says, waving off Chan’s apology. “I’ll drop it off at your door again when I’m done. I’ll give a little knock so you can eat it warm if you’re awake. You do look a little pale. Heavy day at work?”

“Something like it,” he agrees, not seeing the point of trying to explain his sleepless nights and the extra shifts he’s been taking at work to be able to afford the apartment by himself as well as all the extra costs splitting up apparently brought with it. It’s a temporary issue, but an issue nonetheless that he hopes to be done with soon.

“Better go get some rest. Make sure to sleep on time tonight. I have a great playlist and tea for sleepless nights if you need some help.” Minho’s mood seems unchanged, nothing but easygoing kindness and that tiny smile of his that makes Chan feel like it’s really okay, even if it might not be genuine. “I can’t leave the stove for long right now, so I can’t accompany you to the door, but you don’t have to stay if you’re tired. Just make sure to close the door again when you leave, Doongie has taken an interest in the hallway and tries to escape any chance he gets.”

It’s a clear and easy dismissal, so Chan nods his head and already starts backing away. “Thank you. And I’m sorry again.” He belatedly remembers Changbin’s words then, and briefly pauses. “My friends are coming over for some games and a movie tomorrow. We’ll probably order dinner and watch the movie then, if you want to join. Around six?”

Minho’s gaze comes back up to him, some surprise visible in his expression. “Oh. If I’m available I’d love to, but I’m not sure yet what my planning is for tomorrow. Can I let you know?”

“Sure,” he says immediately. “I’m home all day, so you can just pop by. I’ll for sure be awake after ten.”

“Sounds good. I’ll let you know. Thank you for the invitation, either way.” He’s offered an actual smile this time, wider and warmer than the usual one, though somehow not necessarily looking more genuine than the usual. Taking it as the end of the conversation, he dips into a quick bow of greeting before heading back into the hallway.

He makes it home fine, it’s not far after all, and he even remembers to make sure Minho’s door is closed all the way. Once he gets to his own apartment, though, he doesn’t remember much. He manages to get into his own bed, at least, but he’s asleep before his head hits the pillow.

 

***

 

“Channie hyung!” Changbin catapults himself from the hallway to the couch, luckily avoiding the coffee table, just to pounce on top of him. Jisung follows after his lover a little more slowly, but he doesn’t do any less pouncing. Where Changbin is leaning so heavily on his chest he’s barely able to breathe, Jisung makes sure to take residence on his legs and cut off all circulation to his feet.

“Hey guys,” he says, unable to keep from smiling. He briefly wraps Changbin up in a hug, then purses his lips and goes in for the kiss. Changbin shrieks and climbs off him in less than a second, settling on the floor. His next target is Jisung, who’s already puckering his own lips for a kiss, so Chan laughs and simply manhandles his friend off his legs and onto his chest to squish him in a full bodied hug, avoiding the lips aiming for his own.

“Hyung. Don’t damage my precious jewels, please!” Changbin calls out, and Chan checks to see if his foot is dangerously close - it wouldn’t be the first time. Before he can get a good look in, though, Jisung half-yells: “Yah! Hyung! It’s me! I’m the jewels!”

He laughs again, ruffling up Jisung’s hair as he goes to look at his best friend, but before he can make eye contact, Jisung’s hand is shoved in front of his face. It takes him a second, mainly because Jisung wears accessories often, but not on his ring finger, and definitely not any with a diamond woven in so intricately.

“What?” He manages, confused yet excited all at once. “When did that happen?”

“Last night,” Jisung divulges. “Binnie clearly felt threatened by your neighbour.”

Chan is already laughing again even while Changbin’s protesting that claim loudly. Yet when he thinks back to their conversation, he immediately sobers up. “Is that why you invited me? Did you want me to be there and I refused?” He asks, worried, but Changbin immediately shakes his head.

“No, no, don’t worry,” he reassures first, before explaining. “I didn’t plan to propose last night. The moment was just… right. So I asked. And then when we got home I got out the ring.”

“Mhm-mm,” Jisung agrees, beaming and nodding and seeming all too happy to be lying on Chan’s chest rather than holding his fiancé right now. “And then when he gave me his ring, I gave him mine.”

At that, Changbin dutifully holds up his own hand for Chan to see the simple band with white and yellow gold intertwining. Chan takes it in with due diligence, before shaking his head with a little laugh. “You were both planning to propose?” He asks, not a little amused.

“Actually I wasn’t,” Jisung says, “because I didn’t know if hyung wanted to get married at all. But when I saw the ring I knew that it could never be anything other than the ring I’d one day be putting on Bin’s ring finger, you know?”

Chan doesn’t know, actually, which probably should have clocked him in long ago that he wasn’t in the right relationship. Because he doesn’t mind marriage, actually looks forward to having a family and a house one day, but he’d never felt anything even remotely like what Jisung is saying about Youngmi. Not really.

“Damn. My best friends are growing up, huh?” He manages, and suddenly he’s tearing up a little, pulling Jisung closer to his chest and briefly hiding his face from view. There’s no point in trying to keep his difficult emotions from the two people who know him best, though, so it’s not long before Changbin has climbed up on the couch again as well and he’s being squished while squishing Jisung.

“Hyungie,” Jisung says, petting his sides comfortingly and burrowing even closer, while Changbin holds him in a half sort of headlock and squeezes his shoulder.

“Hyung-ah,” he says, fully serious and full of warmth. “ Thank you for being so happy for us. We love you. Our vows will include a part about promising to come by your place every Sunday to collectively make fun of you, don’t worry.”

It makes him laugh through all the other emotions. He lets go of Jisung with one arm so he can put it around Changbin’s body as well and pull them both into a consensual group hug.

They stay like that for a while, but eventually his legs really lose all feeling and he has to rub them to regain movement. They settle down with the game Jisung wants to try playing. When Chan tells them Minho might or might not join them for dinner and a movie, his friends’ excitement rises all over again and they spend a good hour trying to guess which famous actor he would look most alike.

“Sorry, but he’s still Gu Jun Pyo to me,” Jisung eventually claims with a shake of his head, and Chan laughs so hard at the thought of his neighbour with a perm that he ends up crying again.

After that they decide it’s time to bring the snacks out.

 

***

 

The doorbell rings at exactly one minute to six that evening. Changbin and Jisung both immediately perk up, turning to watch everything unfold as Chan gets up to open the door. He takes a steadying breath in the hallway, nervous somehow that adding Minho to the mix will change how relaxing this day is supposed to be for him.

“Bang Chan-ssi!” What greets him is Lee Minho’s striking eyes, perfectly lined, a hint of a shimmer on his cheekbones, soft lips pulling into a familiar smile and hands holding up an oven dish with a reusable cover. “I brought some food, I hope you don’t mind. I know we’ll order food tonight, but I was taught not to show up empty handed. It was freshly made today so you can have it for dinner tomorrow or Tuesday as well.”

Chan’s gaze is, embarrassingly, once again stuck on the warm smile before he manages to drag it back up to the perfectly lined eyes. Minho’s hair is stylishly ruffled and when he reaches out the dish, Chan notices his shirt. It’s definitely a nicer one than the plain black t-shirt. The pants are also…

He takes the oven dish as if on autopilot, swallowing once as he tries to remember what being a good host entails. “Thank you,” seems like a good start, one that also widens Minho’s smile, and he has to swallow again. “Uh, you can take the grey slippers.” He motions towards them with his foot, hands now occupied with the food.

When Minho has switched out of his outside slippers into Chan’s homewear ones, they walk further into the apartment. “So these are Jisung and Changbin, my friends. Guys, this is Minho, my neighbour.”

“Oh,” Jisung says, his lips slightly parted and a dazed look in his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” Changbin protests, just as Minho starts laughing.

“No, hyung, you’re totally hot, but look at him!” Jisung reinforces his earlier words. “Gu Jun Pyo is the ugliest man I’ve ever seen in comparison. I mean, the hairdo really doesn’t help his case, but… Damn. Minho-ssi, have you considered modelling?”

Chan’s glad that Minho seems to find Jisung amusing, his neighbour’s laughter delighted in its high-pitched sound. He watches Minho shake his head, shoulders settling into something that somehow looks a little more relaxed, though his ears seem particularly red.

“Thank you, but no. I feel like all those eyes and cameras on me are not something I’d enjoy,” he replies, and Jisung nods his understanding.

“No, yeah. I get that. I guess I’ll just enjoy your face in HD right here then.” He grins, before motioning briefly at himself. “I’m Jisung, 2000. This is Changbin, my fiancé. He’s from ‘99. What about you?”

“I’m from ‘98,” Minho says, and Chan stores the information away. Younger than him, then, but only by a year. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Nice to meet you too, Minho-ssi,” Changbin chimes in, clearly mollified by having been introduced as Jisung’s fiancé and ready to accept Minho in their midst now that he’s not going to have to compete with him. Not that Changbin ever has to compete, Jisung is head over heels, ass over knees, whatever other expression there may be.

“Please, call me hyung,” Minho counters, and Chan’s pretty sure that’s all it takes for his neighbour to have his two best friends wrapped around his finger. He shakes his head with a little smile as they both agree enthusiastically, and turns around to go put the food in the fridge.

“Would you like anything to drink, Minho-ssi?” He calls back once he’s at the fridge. There’s a brief silence, but then Minho appears in his kitchen doorway.

“Just some water is fine, actually,” he’s told, his neighbour’s speech still just as polite with him as before. He surprisingly doesn’t mind it that much, so he doesn’t make any moves to correct the use of formal speech. He simply takes a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water from the fridge. He reaches it out to his neighbour, smiling briefly. Only after making sure he’s got the food stored properly on one of his fridge’s shelves does he precede his guest back into the living room.

“So does that mean we’re ordering food?” Jisung pipes up the second they come back into view. “You’re not letting us try your neighbour’s home cooked food, hyung? Keeping it all to yourself?”

Chan rolls his eyes even if he’s smiling, motioning for Minho to take a seat and then sitting down himself as well. “I believe your exact words were ‘hyung if we don’t order pizza tonight, I will die’ and as a good hyung, I of course wouldn’t want my favourite friend to die, so. We’re ordering pizza, Sung-ah.”

Changbin laughs when it’s clear Jisung has no counter argument, reaching over to pull his fiancé into a headlock-hug combination that they both seem to love equally.

“Minho-ssi, what’s your favourite pizza?” He asks meanwhile, unbothered by Jisung halfheartedly trying to wriggle out of his grip.

“I usually try something new every time I get pizza, so I don’t really have a specific favourite. I love when there’s meat on my pizza, though.” Minho flashes one of his easygoing smiles. “On days when I’m not a vegetarian, that is.”

It comes out so deadpan, so matter of fact, that Chan’s not even sure himself whether it’s a joke or not, so he can’t really blame Changbin for asking: “You’re only vegetarian on certain days?”

Minho nods his head all seriously to that. “Sometimes I just need to get back in touch with my inner herbivore. Eat some grass, you know, when touching it isn’t enough to make me feel better.”

Chan’s not sure what to think, but Jisung promptly starts laughing, finally managing to get free from Changbin’s hold. “I like you, Minho hyung,” he decides. “Handsome and funny, there should be more men like you.” He grins and Minho’s face once again breaks open into a smile as well.

“Really?” Changbin huffs. “When Chan hyung and I are right here?”

“Binnie darling, I love you but hyung just isn’t funny. It’s the sad facts of life.”

“Hey!” Chan protests, even as Changbin’s already nodding his head in acceptant understanding. “I’m funny. I make you guys laugh all the time!”

“Those are pity laughs, hyung,” Jisung says solemnly, making Changbin laugh. It’s only when Chan offers some affronted sounds amidst his own laughter, making it clear that he’s not offended at all, that Minho chuckles softly as well.

“Anyway, pizza!” Changbin decides to bring them back to their subject once he’s done laughing. “Any kind with meat for Minho hyung. The one with potatoes for Chan hyung. Are you getting something different this time, Sungie, or also your usual?”

Chan decides to pretend he doesn’t see the surprised look Minho throws him at his choice of pizza and instead pulls out his phone to put the order in. He lets Minho look through the menu and pick a pizza before adding the three others from memory, paying and sending off the order.

Next up is the movie choice, which goes just as easily. At the sight of one of the more dramatic movie trailers, Changbin and Jisung tease him relentlessly for being a softhearted crybaby whenever there’s an emotional premise. Luckily they find a nice, easy comedy to watch in the end, so Chan escapes the fate of crying in front of his neighbour.

Minho doesn’t talk a lot, but he seems comfortable enough just watching them interact, and Chan makes sure to include him whenever the topic is light enough not to require too much thought. By the time the movie ends their pizzas are long gone and Minho is continuously smiling along with all of Jisung’s jokes, even seeming mainly amused by Changbin’s relentless attempts to make him give in to his cuteness.

When eventually Changbin tells Jisung they have to get home because despite getting engaged they still have to work in the morning (something Jisung whines at in protest), Minho’s presence isn’t even strange anymore. They all say goodbye at the door, Jisung even managing to make Minho promise he’ll join them again sometime soon.

Chan stays in his door opening, waving goodbye to his friends until the elevator doors eventually close behind them. When he looks over, Minho’s standing at his own apartment door. He dips into a small bow when he notices Chan’s gaze on him.

“I had a good time, Bang Chan-ssi,” he says. “Thank you for inviting me. You have lovely friends. They seem very happy together.”

Chan smiles softly as he looks towards the elevator again. “Yeah,” he says softly. “They are some of the best friends I could’ve asked for.” When he looks back at Minho, he remembers the food his neighbour brought. “Thank you again for the food, by the way. I’ll enjoy it tomorrow after work for sure.”

Minho bows again so Chan nods his head once more. “Have a good night, Minho-ssi,” he makes sure to say before stepping back into his own apartment and closing the door behind himself.

 

***

 

The food is once again delicious, because of course it is. He eats from it both Monday and Tuesday, and washes the dishes before returning them by leaving them on his neighbour’s doorstep Wednesday early morning.

It’s not the last he sees of Minho, of course not. It’s almost like he starts seeing the man everywhere. One Friday when he finds the time to go grocery shopping, his neighbour is there, pushing a cart full of nothing but pumpkins towards the register. He greets Chan as warmly as ever upon spotting him, but offers no explanation for his excessive pumpkin consumption. Chan doesn’t ask either.

Two weeks later, there’s police cars at the apartment again, and Chan can see from a distance how his neighbour’s being uncuffed this time. There’s an unfamiliar man next to him who seems to be in a heated conversation with one of the police officers. Chan makes a detour past the nearest e-market so he doesn’t have to get involved in any way this time.

The next time he sees his neighbour, Minho is sporting an obvious black eye and a few band aids on his face and neck. He once again offers no explanation, simply greets him as enthusiastically as ever and offers him another part of dinner if he wants it. Considering the two arrests and the looking like a fight broke out, Chan politely declines. Minho seems to take it in stride, wishing him a good weekend before continuing on his path.

They exchange greetings every time they see each other, but not much more than that. Pleasantries are fine on days when Chan has the energy for them, but Minho seems to not mind whether he talks or just stands there and nods to the end. Every time his greeting is just as enthusiastic as the last, and every time Chan wonders if Minho is this happy and bright with everyone.

Changbin and Jisung ask him if they’ll hang out with Minho again only once, because when Chan tells them about the second arrest and the bruises, they also seem to think some distance is the better choice. He doesn’t stop talking to his neighbour altogether, but simply limits the interactions. Not that it’s hard with the amount of hours he’s working and the very odd hours at that.

And then one Friday evening, when he’s barely been able to sleep more than three hours a night the whole week (insomnia’s fault, not work) he walks into the apartment’s laundry room only to come face to face with Minho attempting to stuff a larger than lifesize teddy bear into the biggest machine. At the sound of his arrival, Minho looks up and immediately breaks into his usual easygoing smile.

“Bang Chan-ssi!” He greets, warm and delighted as always.

Chan can only nod his head, still sort-of staring at the teddy bear’s one leg hanging over Minho’s shoulder, body squished while the head is half stuffed into the laundry machine. “Uh,” he starts, almost hesitant to learn the answer, “what… are you doing?”

“I’m attempting to wash this teddy bear. It belongs to my friend’s cousin and he accidentally stained it, so I treated the fabric but now I kind of need to run a slow cycle on it.”

It's not even the strangest thing he’s seen his neighbour do at this point, so Chan just nods a few times in acceptance of the explanation. Minho’s gaze runs a little questioningly over Chan’s entire self before he asks: “What about you, Bang Chan-ssi?”

“I was about to do my laundry,” he says, frowning a little because that’s quite obvious considering where he is and the fact that he brought his laundry bag. Except when he looks down, he’s not holding up his laundry bag at all. Instead, he’s got his trash bag in hand, that he belatedly remembers deciding to take out first before doing laundry.

“Oh,” he says smartly, and then all energy leaves him for a moment, arms dropping and a sigh leaving him before he runs a hand over his face. “Well,” he says when he feels a little less like just giving up entirely. “I am going to throw out this trash first and then I’ll be doing my laundry.”

He offers his neighbour a small smile, because what else is he supposed to do? “Do you need help with that?”

“I’ll be fine, actually, but thank you.” Minho offers a brief bow of gratitude and Chan nods his acceptance of it.

“Alright,” he says, “good luck.” With that, he walks out of the laundry room again, this time taking the elevator to the right floor to discard his trash. By the time he returns with his actual laundry bag, Minho is gone and the teddy bear’s face stares out from where it's turning slowly in the laundry machine.

He gets his own laundry going as well, then heads back upstairs so he can get a few more things cleaned at his apartment.

And then he wakes up on his couch in the middle of the night, his phone telling him it’s nearly three am. He’s about to drag himself to his bed when he remembers his laundry, cursing as he makes for his front door.

Yet when he opens it, he nearly trips over his laundry bag, full of his neatly folded clothes. He looks down at it in complete confusion for way too long, before he decides to look for any clue. On his door a cat-shaped post-it offers him what he’s looking for.

’Your laundry sat in the machine for a few hours being done. I recognised your hoodie, so I folded it for you since you looked tired earlier. I hope you’ll be able to catch up on sleep this weekend.
- Minho’

He feels mortified, but also grateful, lifting the laundry bag up from the floor and taking the post-it note off his door. He walks both back inside, where he takes a moment just to allow himself to feel whatever it is this is making him feel. A part of it is gratitude, but a part of him wonders why Minho is getting into his business. And then he scolds himself, thinking he should be grateful he’s got a neighbour who cares. Even if it’s a neighbour who also gets into fights and gets arrested twice in one month.

He’ll thank him properly for this later, he decides. For now he puts his clothes away in his wardrobe before spending the next four hours attempting to get some sleep in his actual bed and failing miserably yet again. In the end, he crawls out of bed grumpy and tired, deciding to make some breakfast. Only for there to be a soft knock on his door two seconds after he flicks on the living room light.

He walks over, confused, just for his neighbour to visibly startle when he pulls open the door, before straightening from where he’d been placing something down. “Bang Chan-ssi,” Minho says, less enthusiastic than usual and clearly confused. “You’re awake. I, uh, made you something to eat. You seemed really tired yesterday. Did you find your laundry well?”

He can’t help but stare for a long moment, processing the fact that Minho has once again cooked for him and that he’s delivering said cooking at not even ten minutes past seven in the morning. When his silence lasts, Minho lifts the tray in his hands a little. “It’s still warm if you’re hungry,” he offers, voice a little softer, and Chan blinks, then tries to shake himself out of his stupor.

“Ah, yes, thank you. I did- I did find my laundry. Thank you for that, too. You, um…” He pauses, blinks, reminds himself not to be rude. “Your face seems to be healing well.” Less bandaids, mainly. The black eye is now a combination of a vague mixture of yellow-purple-green. Minho’s smile breaks open again and suddenly Chan is reminded of how handsome he is, even at seven in the morning when Chan himself no doubt looks like a grumpy raccoon at best.

“Yes,” Minho says. “I’m glad it’s not scarring much. Jin gave me some cream for it. But even if it did scar, I wouldn’t have minded. I’m just happy I could help.”

“Help?” He echoes mindlessly. Minho seems up for conversation, though, because his stance relaxes as he nods.

“Yeah. There were some kittens stuck in the sewer. I had to lower myself down to get to them. Got some scrapes and bruises all over from it, but… worth it.” He looks proud as he says it. Or not proud, more like… satisfied. Happy to have been able to get them out.

“Oh.” Chan’s filter is shot this early in the morning, clearly, because the next thing he does is point up to his own eye. “What about…?”

“Hah!” Minho laughs, before glancing to the other doors in their hallway guiltily and quieting down a little. “Getting the sewer cover loose didn’t go all that smoothly either,” he admits then, and all of a sudden Chan has to change his idea of random bar fighter Minho to kitten rescuer Minho. It fits much better with the rest of his neighbour’s personality, except of course the part where he got arrested twice.

“You look like your perception of the world got turned upside down,” Minho comments not a little bit amused and Chan’s too tired to keep his expression in check in any way. Minho laughs again, but softer, though clearly much more amused. “Would it help if I said I regularly walk right in the path of the police when they’re trying to chase or fine homeless people just for sleeping somewhere warm they’re supposedly not allowed to be?”

Chan blinks. Blinks some more. It’s too early. He’s too tired. “That’s really nice of you, Minho,” he says, trying to grasp this reality with all of his might. “I’m sorry for assuming. Kinda hard not to when I see you get arrested twice in the span of two months, though.”

Minho’s laugh finally breaks through the fog in his head, pulling a smile from him as well. Their gazes lock again, Chan thinking of the nice shape of his neighbour’s nose so long he suddenly realises Minho’s smile has grown a bit wider since their eyes met. Instead of commenting on it, though, Minho simply hold up the tray towards him again.

“Food?” He seems to offer, and Chan can’t do anything but reach out and take it from him.

“Yes. Thank you. I actually wanted to thank you properly for folding my laundry, maybe by making you food, but it seems you beat me to it.” He admits. “Are you free somewhere this week?”

“You don’t have to thank me. I was waiting for the teddy bear to dry and it’s a really big one, so…” He trails off, shrugs. It’s impolite for Minho to tell him to use his free time to sleep, but Chan’s pretty sure that’s what his neighbour would say if they were friends. He doesn’t want to know how dead he looks despite being upright.

When the silence lasts, Minho seems to startle back into motion. “Anyway,” he says. “You can return the dishes when you’re done with them, there’s no haste required. Please enjoy the food, Bang Chan-ssi.”

“You can call me hyung if you want, Minho,” he finds himself offering. He’d motion with his hand - some vague indication of something - but he’s holding the tray of food, so he doesn’t. He’d feel terrible if he dropped it, after all.

“Mhm,” Minho says, looking at him for a long moment as if considering. “You look really tired, hyung. Maybe you should sleep some more.”

He can’t help the laugh he barks out, something too sarcastic and bitter for the genuine worry in Minho’s gaze. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he manages to say, keeping his tone light even though he’s so frustrated by his own body’s refusal to just let him sleep. Body, brain, whichever of the two is working against its own needs. He lifts the tray before he can be prompted to say anything else sharp like that. “I’ll eat this well, thank you. I hope you have a good day.”

He dips his head into a small nod of gratitude and then steps back into his own home, closing the door again. For a moment he just has to breathe there, reign his emotions back in, before he can walk to the kitchen and check out the contents of the tray. The food is indeed still warm, so he sits down to eat, serving himself a good portion. There’s clearly enough for several meals, and Chan wonders exactly how bad he must’ve looked for Minho to take care of him like this.

Or maybe Minho’s just like that. Helping homeless people, fixing old people’s balconies, rescuing kittens, making food for incapable neighbours. Maybe there’s nothing but kindness in his heart and somehow Chan is on the receiving end of it. He should really do something in return for his neighbour. But what could Minho possibly need that Chan can give to him? He can clearly cook better than Chan can, and the list of skills he’s got to boast about is rather short after that.

He eats the food in silence. As he sits there - exhausted, pitiful and alone - it’s not long before all the emotions suddenly work their way up his chest, along his throat until he feels like he can’t swallow air anymore, let alone food. For a long moment, he’s just staring down at his plate of food. Then he’s putting down his chopsticks, lowering his head into his hands and allowing the tears to run down his cheeks.

It’s pathetic, is what it is, the way he just sits there crying. It’s been months since his relationship ended, but at the same time it feels like this is the first time he lets himself feel anything about it. Really feel how he hates that it’s over. Not because he still wanted Youngmi, but because he hates that he wasted all those years. He hates that he had so many plans and now there’s nothing. He can barely afford the apartment by himself, so it’d be better to move. He can’t keep doing this many irregular hours at work because it’ll ruin his sleep even more and he hardly has enough time to see his two best friends, let alone meet someone new. But he really likes the apartment, the neighbourhood, the familiarity of it all.

He’s a caricature of who he used to be, and he hates it. He wants to finally be able to let go of the future he’d thought he’d have, of the two kids and a dog type of family life he’d imagined for himself not too far down the line. He wants to be able to enjoy his life again, start over. Find someone or find himself. Whatever it takes to feel better. Whatever it takes for waking up in the morning not to feel like a chore.

What am I doing with my life, Bin? I feel like I’m struggling just to keep my head above water and for what? I don’t miss Youngmi or the relationship, but it feels like I’m mourning the future I could’ve had. I don’t want to move but I can’t afford this apartment. I don’t want to quit my job but I’ve barely slept and I’m still hardly capable of affording the rent. I’m tired. I’m so tired. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I’m better without her and I know it, but why doesn’t it feel better? I don’t mind being alone but I really don’t want to be. I just want to…

He never finishes the message because his doorbell rings loudly in the silence of his apartment. A glance at the clock tells him it’s nearly eight and he frowns as he quickly wipes his face with his sleeves. He clears his throat as he walks over to the intercom, pressing the button to make himself audible.

“Hello?”

“Hyung, open up, I’m drenched!” An unfamiliar voice says urgently, followed by the camera finally clicking on and showing an equally unfamiliar face. “Why on this godforsaken earth you want me to bring you these papers at eight in the morning I don't know, but if you don’t open up right now I’m letting you rot in jail next time.”

There’s a moment of silence in which Chan is quite literally too stunned to speak, but then he clears his throat again. “I’m sorry but… who are you?”

At the question, and perhaps also the sound of his voice, the unfamiliar man downstairs frowns at the camera lens, before peering more closely at the screen. “Is this not three-two-four?” He asks then, voice ten times more polite than it had been but a second ago.

“This is three-two-five,” he says. “Are you here for Minho?”

The expression on the stranger’s face clears entirely and he immediately bows deeply. “I’m so sorry, I must have pressed the wrong button. I hope I didn’t wake you, sir, my deepest apologies. I am indeed here for Minho. I do apologise for bothering you, it is my fault entirely.”

“You’re all good,” Chan says softly, not wanting the man to feel too bad since he was awake anyway. “I was just having breakfast. I’ll buzz you in.”

He presses the button to unlock the door and gets to watch the man bow several more times while expressing his gratitude. He watches as well the way the man enters the building before deciding he should probably give Minho a heads-up. So he sticks his feet into his outside slippers and heads over to his neighbour’s door, wiping his face a bit more thoroughly as he goes.

The door is opened not long after he knocks, Minho’s confused expression switching to his usual, easygoing smile. “Chan hyung, hi. Is everything okay? Something wrong with the food?”

“No, the food is delicious, actually. Thank you. I just wanted to let you know that I buzzed someone in for you. They got my doorbell by accident and needed you. I realise now that they could’ve made that up as a way to get into the building, however. Were you expecting someone?”

Minho laughs lightly, already nodding his head, so the sudden rush of fear that he’d made a mistake settles again easily. “Ah, yes, that was probably Kim Seungmin. He’s my lawyer. He was going to bring me the paperwork from the arrests. Thank you for letting him in, and for letting me know.”

He waves off the gratitude, shaking his head to indicate it’s unnecessary. “No worries. I’m glad he’s not a burglar.”

“Wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Minho replies cheerfully, though his grin indicates it’s a joke. Chan hopes it’s a joke at least. “The morning’s still young. He might change his mind about the purpose of his visit on the way up.”

Minho laughs, and Chan can’t help but smile at the sound. Before he can say anything else, though, the elevator dings its arrival on their floor, and the doors open to reveal the unfamiliar man from before, indeed quite a bit wetter than one would expect, and looking not a little perturbed by the adventure.

“Minho hyung,” he says when spotting the man, his eyes narrowing. “You owe me dry clothes and a good fucking coffee.” He only seems to notice Chan after he’s cursed already, because he dips into a bow straight away. “Oh, apologies. I’m Seungmin, an acquaintance of Minho’s.”

“Chan,” he offers, nodding his head vaguely over towards his door. “Three-two-five. I buzzed you in.”

“Ah, many thanks for that, Chan-ssi, and I apologise once again for bothering you. I don’t usually get the number wrong, but as you can see my glasses are terribly wet.”

They are indeed, fat drops no doubt making it hard to see. Chan waves off this apology as well. “It’s all good, Seungmin-ssi. I’ll leave you two to it so you can get dry.”

He nods his head and once again turns to walk away. “Hyung,” Minho says behind him, so he briefly glances back to see what else might be needed. “Have a nice weekend. I hope you enjoy the food.”

He can’t help the smile that creeps onto his features, softening the ache in his chest. “I will, thank you,” he says, nodding his head.

When he gets back inside and unlocks his phone again, the unfinished message stares back at him. He considers for a moment, but then simply deletes the last unfinished sentence and sends it as is.

 

***

 

Jisung and Changbin show up at his doorstep at a quarter to eleven. Jisung looks like he’s barely woken up, but they’re both there.

“Hyung,” Changbin immediately speaks as he marches in, pulling his fiancé along and dumping him onto the couch. “We’re here for hugs.”

“Hugs!” Jisung echoes sleepily, pumping his fist into the air with limited energy, while he’s already curling up around one of the couch pillows.

“I saw your message,” Changbin adds, and Jisung nods his head all seriously even though he looks two seconds from passing right back out. “You don’t have to be alone, you have us. We can figure it out.” Changbin’s not trying to pull him into a hug, but he’s not moving away either, clearly trying to assert his presence. “Sung and I will help you pay your rent for a few months, we still owe you from college anyway. Go see a doctor and take some sick leave from work. You need a break. You’ve been non-stop working since Youngmi left.”

There’s more silent, eyes-closed nodding from the couch. “We love you, hyungie,” Jisung mumbles. “Don’t be sad.”

It’s the last thing he does before he’s asleep, but somehow that makes the words only hit harder. Chan keeps his gaze on Jisung’s sleeping form rather than Changbin, because at least when asleep, Jisung won’t be able to see the tears pooling in his eyes again.

“We were up until three,” Changbin explains Jisung’s complete incapacity to stay awake. Chan doesn’t mind. He doesn’t care at all, only that they came. That they’re here. That they’re trying to help him. “He’s going to hug you from the moment he wakes up until he falls back asleep. We do love you, hyung. You know that right? I know it’s not the romance you were hoping for, but…” Changbin shrugs. “Sung can be your substitute child until you get a real one. I’ll nag you about the dishes you left in the sink if you want me to.” Chan huffs a laugh out of his very core and Changbin pauses briefly to grin before he turns serious again. “You’ll find someone again, hyung. You’re likeable and social. You just need to let go of this relationship fully first. But we’re here for you, yeah?”

He clears his throat, nodding, though he’s already turning away to wipe the stray tears from his cheeks.

“Hyung.” Changbin’s there, then. A hand on his shoulder, not trying to push closer than he’s allowed. Chan isn’t sure there’s a limit on how close he wants him right now, though. He turns into the touch, lifting an arm over his friend’s frame. When he goes in for the hug, Changbin leans into it easily, wrapping both arms around him and pulling him in close.

They don’t say anything, but Changbin holds him tightly and doesn’t let him go at all, squeezing perhaps even a little harder than is fully comfortable. Chan doesn’t mind. Not really. He stays in his best friend’s hold until the empty feeling inside seems like it’s squished into something much smaller. He takes a deep breath, then, and Changbin releases him easily when he straightens back up.

He avoids eye contact as he pulls away, embarrassed, but he lets his hand linger on Changbin’s arm. “Thanks. I- Thank you.” He sighs, runs a hand over his face and turns away. “Are you hungry? Minho made me enough food to last the whole weekend, I think.”

“Your neighbour?” Changbin asks, a little surprised. “The criminal? Are you sure we should be eating mobster food?” It’s mainly a joke, and it does make him laugh, but Chan still feels guilty for this image he put in his friend’s head.

“Yeah, about that… Apparently he got the scrapes and bruises from rescuing kittens from the sewer, and he gets arrested because he sort of… gets in the way of the police going after homeless people.”

“From criminal mastermind to protector of the less fortunate,” Changbin huffs out with a laugh. “Okay. It’ll take a minute to alter my perception, but I can see it more than I could see Korean mobster, honestly.”

Chan laughs again, a soft thing this time, but he nods his head briefly. “Same. He folded my laundry last night after I forgot it in the machine and fell asleep. Then he made me the food this morning. I must’ve really looked like a mess, huh?”

Changbin gives him a critical once-over, before humming. “You look tired, hyung,” he says, honest as ever. “Like you need time off to sleep and recentre yourself. Go nap on the couch with Sung, I’ll figure out lunch and wake you both up for it.”

The command is clear, and Chan’s too tired to argue. He walks over to the couch, gently nudging Jisung to stretch his legs and make space. His friend barely wakes up, just enough to scoot over and then wrap Chan up in his arms instead of the pillow, pressing half-asleep kisses to his hair before dozing right back off. Hoping to glean some of the same energy off of his friend, Chan closes his eyes and settles in with him.

It must’ve worked, because when Changbin comes to get them for lunch, Chan actually wakes up from a sort-of sleep. He’s always been better at sleeping when someone else is there, which is another part of the reason why the break-up is hitting him hard. But his friends help, of course, and once Jisung’s had something to eat and washed up properly after, he’s like a clingy koala, attaching himself to Chan’s side and not moving away for the rest of the day.

“We’re sleeping here tonight,” Changbin decides about halfway through the afternoon, and Jisung makes a pleased noise at it while holding Chan a little tighter. Minho’s food becomes their dinner, the tray and dishes neatly cleaned before they bring them over to the apartment nextdoor. He doesn’t knock or ring the doorbell, simply leaves them in front of the door like Minho does and heads back inside.

They watch a currently airing drama together and eventually end up going to sleep. Jisung insists they squeeze onto the bed with the three of them, and Chan doesn’t even want to argue. Blissfully, sleep takes him even before Changbin’s breathing evens out, tucked safely away between both his friends.

 

***

 

Sunday is better. Changbin and Jisung stay the rest of the day, making sure he schedules an appointment with his doctor and lets his boss know he won’t be around on Monday because he’s feeling under the weather. They take him out to get a nice brunch, convince him to go for a walk and then cuddle him on the couch when they order dinner for their usual movie night.

When the doorbell rings, Changbin gets up to bring in not just their dinner but also another tray of food for Chan to eat in the coming days and a bunny post-it note telling him to have a good week. The food goes into the fridge, forgotten for the rest of the night, until Changbin and Jisung go home and Chan opens the fridge for some water. He feels worse when he sees it, just a little, thinks he should really do something for his neighbour in turn.

But first he goes to the doctor on Monday. He gets a week off work and a bunch of medicine for his sleep. He passes by his workplace to drop off the doctor’s note and then heads back home. When he texts the news to Changbin and Jisung, they immediately send back celebratory emojis despite being in the middle of work themselves. Then he nearly walks into Minho on his floor because he’s too busy looking at his phone.

“Bang Chan s- hyung!” His neighbour says, sounding equally delighted as always. When Chan looks up, he’s temporarily stunned by the way his neighbour looks, clearly dressed to go out and so damn handsome. For a long moment he’s stuck not on the line of Minho’s nose but rather on the slope of his chest.

“Minho,” he says when he manages to snap out of it, lifting his gaze back up to his neighbour’s face. “Hi. Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“It’s alright!” Minho says, beaming him an easy smile the way he’s always done. “You’re not working?”

“I got a week off, actually,” he admits. “Needed to take some time to rest. Are you on your way to work?”

“Mhm?” Minho looks down at himself before looking back up. “Oh. No. Just- Meeting a friend briefly and then grabbing a drink. You want to join? They’ve got great coffee and juice.”

Chan’s initial instinct is to decline, but Minho looks almost hopeful for him to join, and it’s not like he’s got anything better to do. Maybe he can even pay for their drinks and start on paying his neighbour back.

“I might, actually, if you don’t mind. I just need to drop this off at my apartment and then I’m good to go.”

He doesn’t know his neighbour well enough to be sure, but Minho’s expression seems to shift to happiness at his acceptance. “You like coffee?” He asks, and Chan has to immediately backtrack and shake his head.

“No, not at all. Much too bitter for me. I like juice, though. And they’ll probably have some other things I like. Do they also have pastries?”

Minho nods his head, motioning for him to keep walking to his apartment door, and walking along once he does. “They do. Some really good ones and some slightly less. But I’ll tell you which is which, don’t worry.” He’s offered another easy grin before Minho comes to a stop and lets him unlock his door. He simply pushes it open to put his bag inside, double checks that he has his phone, wallet and keys and then pulls it closed again.

“Let’s go then,” he announces, and Minho nods, turns and precedes him back to the elevator.

The coffee shop isn’t too far, so they walk. Minho asks him about his time off, and Chan ends up telling him about his friends convincing him to take a break. “The goal is to try and get plenty of sleep, but well… I hope my body will listen.”

Minho offers him a smile and a nod, as well as a slightly more lingering look that he’s not sure what to think of. He quickly moves on from the topic, not really a fan of talking about his insomnia, and asks instead about the friend Minho has to meet.

“Oh, he works at the coffee shop,” Minho divulges easily. “So I’m just saying hi to him and then sitting down with a drink. If it’s not too busy he might come sit with us, but he might also use his break to text his boyfriend.”

Chan hums, and Minho seems to take it as encouragement enough to continue. “They’re kind of like your two friends. If they’d get engaged tomorrow I wouldn’t be surprised. I also wouldn’t be surprised if they just stay the way they are now forever. Jinnie- Ah, my friend. He’s very cuddly and touchy, but his boyfriend isn’t at all, so they’re constantly trying to convince each other to do what they like best. It’s funny to watch.”

Chan nods as he listens, entertained mainly by the way Minho speaks of them, a smile on his face that he clearly can’t repress. He motions with his hands a little, but mainly it’s the rising and falling of his voice that brings life to his words.

“Your friend’s name is Jin?” He asks, but Minho shakes his head.

“Just a nickname. It’s Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin. Anytime we disagree with him he claims it’s a royal name and we should listen to him since we’re just peasants. Also when he wants us to do something for him.” Minho laughs softly, shaking his head. “I’ve known him and Lix since university. We used to dance together. They’re good kids.”

Chan continues to nod his head, smiling softly as he thinks of how nice it is to have friends like that, friends that you keep even after you’re no longer spending every day in the same place. He thinks of Changbin and Jisung, of course, and finds himself suddenly hit with a bout of emotion about them.

“That’s lovely,” he says. “That you can keep your friends like that.”

Minho nods, offers him a wide smile and then motions at the crossroads ahead of them. “It’s just over there,” he says, and Chan looks towards the coffee shop’s front window.

“Oh,” he says, surprised. “I know this place, I’ve been here before. Just once, but. A customer recommended it to me. They do have really good juice.”

Minho’s smiling when their eyes meet again, looking almost proud. “Oh good,” he says, “then you won’t be disappointed.” He grins and Chan laughs lightly, nodding again.

They cross the road when the light turns green, entering the cafe. There’s a young man wiping down the counter, black hair down to his jawline and a face that would, Chan agrees, make him royalty in any land.

“Hyunjinnie,” Minho croons, voice lifted into a slightly higher tone than when he speaks normally. “I’m here for my payment. Also I brought my neighbour. This is Chan hyung. Hyung, this is Hyunjin. He’s younger than us.”

Hyunjin looks up, making a face at Minho as he speaks, but then looking over to Chan. As their eyes meet, Hyunjin’s expression briefly goes blank with surprise before he snaps out of it and immediately moves to pull out his phone.

“Jeongin’s never going to believe this,” he says, and then he snaps a picture of them. Chan blinks in surprise, briefly glancing down self-consciously to make sure he doesn’t look weird before looking back up, confused.

“Hyunjin,” Minho warns, and the man looks back up from his phone before seeming to realise he completely sidestepped the introductions and anything that is supposed to come after.

“Oh, sorry!” He pipes up, eyes wide as he dips into a bow. “It’s nice to meet you, Chan-ssi! Minho’s told me great things about you, so I feel like we’re friends already! I’m just sending a picture to my boyfriend, because he’s heard equally much about you through me and we were curious what you looked like!”

Chan can’t help but look over at Minho - for support or an explanation he’s not sure - but the man is doggedly staring his friend down, though his ears and neck are growing a surprisingly darker shade. “Hyunjin,” he warns again. “What did I tell you about pictures and consent?”

“Oh. Right.” Hyunjin’s enthusiasm has significantly lowered at this point as he turns a sheepish gaze Chan’s way. “Sorry, Chan-ssi. I already sent the picture, but only to my boyfriend, I didn’t post it or anything! Innie won’t send it to anyone else either!”

Chan waves off the apology, because it’s whatever, probably. “You’re okay,” he says, smiles and nods his head. “Tell your boyfriend hi from me too.”

Hyunjin looks down at his phone, beaming, and almost immediately snaps his head back up, beaming even wider. “You’re Channie hyung!” He exclaims, and Chan is only even more confused because wasn’t that established already! “Jeongin trains with you!”

“Jeongin?” He echoes, thinking of the bright-eyed youth who always seems to enjoy their sessions together. He never mentioned a boyfriend, but then that’s got nothing to do with his PT, of course. Boyfriend or no, he’ll still have to do the same amount of reps. “Yang Jeongin?”

“Yeah!” Hyunjin’s excitement is high now. “This is such a cool coincidence! I’ve heard even more about you now! It’s really nice to meet you, hyung! I mean- Chan-ssi.”

“Hyung’s fine,” Chan says easily, because clearly Hyunjin’s nice and also knows more about him already. Besides, a friend of a friend is a friend and all of that, probably. “It’s nice to meet you too, Hyunjin.”

“Are you guys staying for a drink? My break’s in about half an hour, I could join you for a bit then. If that’s okay?”

Chan checks with Minho again, who this time does catch his gaze, and raises his eyebrows in question. “Fine with me,” he says, so Minho nods and Hyunjin immediately does a little dance as if cheering his good fortune.

“Cool! What can I get you guys?”

They put their order in, Minho getting a tea infusion with a fruity name and Chan settling for the apple cranberry juice. Minho waves Hyunjin off to go make those things already before pointing at each pastry in the window and giving his honest opinion on them. By the time Hyunjin returns with their drinks, Chan is laughing uncontrollably at the story of how one particular pastry gave Minho a stomach ache for a week, while Minho is detailing the pain in ever more ridiculous ways.

They get one of the pastries that does not induce stomach aches to go with their drinks and then find a table to sit at, so they can continue their conversation. Though it’s mainly just trying the drinks and pastry and giving their honest opinion. The juice is really fresh and good, and Hyunjin being Jeongin’s boyfriend explains why the youth had recommended this place to Chan. Minho’s tea is actually also nice, a sweet and fruity blend that he thinks would be delicious iced as well.

When they get to the pastry, Chan can’t help but laugh again at the way Minho is staring down the bite he’s trying to eat, as if silently threatening it not to give him a stomach ache again. The shifty eyes and the furrowed brow immediately settle at the sound of his laughter, Minho looking up in surprise which turns to confusion when he can’t seem to pinpoint the reason for Chan’s laughter.

“I don’t think glaring at it will help protect your stomach any better,” he offers through giggles, before taking a breath. “But I won’t stop you from trying.”

Minho huffs out a smile, before making a bit of a face. It’s playful, Chan can tell, and he’s glad that his neighbour feels comfortable enough around him to joke around with him like that.

“You’re right, hyung. I’ll give it a stern talking to instead,” Minho decides a moment later, but then just pops the forkful of pastry into his mouth. Chan can only laugh more, amused and delighted both.

“Is it good, at least?” He asks after a few moments of him giggling and Minho carefully chewing. His delight seems to be the thing that his neighbour is after because a small, almost private smile appears on Minho’s face as he looks up, just before he swallows.

“It’s decent,” he agrees. “Hyunjin gets to live another day.”

“Hyung!” The named boy whines from behind him, where he’s walking over while there’s no one ready to order. “I only used the expired whipped cream once! I said I was sorry!” He pouts obnoxiously as he comes to a stop next to their table, looking every bit like a scolded puppy. Minho looks up at him and huffs, unimpressed.

“I couldn’t eat any dairy for three months because I kept tasting the bad cream, Hyunjinnie. Three months! Do you know how hard it was for me to go without any cream sauce? I had to reset my taste buds with the spiciest ramyeon they had on offer before I could eat normally again!”

Hyunjin clearly tries to keep looking regretful but he starts grinning a little as if remembering it perfectly, and then breaks out into happy giggles. “Hyung,” he says in between a few bursts of them. “You were crying. And so red you could’ve fit in with the tomatoes. It was so funny.”

Minho’s brow furrows and he leans over as if to reach out, but Hyunjin darts out of reach immediately, laughing more. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologises, raising his hands in surrender. “But it was just so funny, hyung!” He’s still laughing, now standing more on Chan’s side of the table. “Why would you even think that was a good idea?”

Minho’s glare looks ready to kill and Chan is a little worried that Hyunjin’s pushing too far, but the younger man just keeps giggling, moving back around the table to go hug his friend. Minho rolls his eyes, yet makes no protest against it and even lifts a hand to pat Hyunjin’s upper back. His ears are red, Chan notices, but he seems otherwise unaffected, letting Hyunjin go again when he pulls away.

“Go do your job, Hyunjinnie, leave us to eat in peace.” He nudges the younger man away, a pat on his butt for his troubles, it seems. Minho keeps looking after him until Hyunjin’s back behind the counter. Only then does he turn back to Chan, who welcomes his attention with another smile.

“Pastry’s good,” he offers. “Hyunjin is nice, too. Thank you for inviting me along.”

Minho waves off his gratitude and smiles with the same amount of delight he always shows. “I’m glad you like them. Good food helps make the day better, don’t you think?”

It’s said so easily, with so much conviction that Chan can only smile and agree. It’s quite easy, from there, to sit with Minho and chat. Casual talk, about his cats, about Chan’s job as a personal trainer, about Jeongin who comes walking in exactly when Hyunjin’s break starts. He comes to greet them, but then steers Hyunjin to a different table to sit down and have a drink together, clearly wanting some time with his boyfriend.

Time passes fast like that, so eventually they say goodbye to Hyunjin again and head back home. It’s quite nice to be able to continue their conversation on the way home, even nicer to only have to say goodbye at his literal doorstep. He thanks Minho yet again for the food in his fridge that’s still waiting to be eaten, only for his neighbour to tell him to leave it for tomorrow and have a freshly made dinner at his place that night.

For a moment, Chan feels torn between accepting the meal and guilt over not giving anything in return, but Minho waves off his unspoken worries immediately. “I really like making food, so you’re not inconveniencing me or anything. I also like hanging out with you, I’d love for the conversation to keep going.”

That last part is almost word for word how Chan himself feels, so the guilt filters away and he offers his neighbour a smile. “Alright,” he agrees, “but you’re really going to have to let me do something for you too in exchange. I feel like I’ve only been taking and I want to give you something as well. Is there anything I can do?”

“You can keep me company so I don’t have to eat dinner by myself,” Minho counters immediately. “If you feel really bad and are so inclined, you can also always take me on a date.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but then he does a double take, trying to pick up any signs that it’s a joke from Minho’s expression. His neighbour's still smiling, but he looks serious enough and Chan briefly short-circuits entirely.

“Do I give off gay vibes?” Are the first words he manages to get past his lips. They make Minho laugh, at least, though it’s a little bit of a nervous chuckle, maybe.

“Not at all, but I figured I’d shoot my shot anyway,” he replies with a shrug, and Chan breathes out a smile.

They’re just looking at each other in silence then. He knows the ball is in his camp, but he’s just sort of trying to imagine it, trying to check with himself whether he’d want to try taking his neighbour on a date.

“You seem like you could use someone taking care of you,” Minho breaks the silence again, his smile unwavering despite the redness of his ears. “And I figured it couldn’t hurt to offer myself up for the position.” The words haven’t fully sunken in yet when Minho adds: “It comes with a lot of benefits, too.”

Chan’s expression must show his confusion, because Minho’s ears grow redder still when he gives a brisk nod of his head. “Your face, for one. Good conversation. Nice smile.” Then the tension seems to seep from his frame as he grins and adds: “That ass.”

He’s not sure whether to be amused or mortified, but it seems amused wins out because suddenly he’s laughing, and Minho is grinning back at him happily. As his laughter peters out, something else takes its place; something daring. He’s not head over heels for his neighbour, but Minho is handsome, and funny, and Chan knows he’s spent more time than he usually would noticing both things about him equally much.

“Alright,” he says eventually. “Since you’ve apparently been looking at my ass. Go out with me, Lee Minho. I’ve got time the whole of this week. You can romance me tonight and I can take you out tomorrow. Or whenever you’re free.”

“Tomorrow’s good,” Minho immediately agrees, smiling even wider now. “Wednesday, too. Both are fine, too.”

“Let’s see how well the romancing goes tonight before we decide on two dates at once,” he half-jokes in response to that offer, putting a hand on his doorframe almost as if to steady himself. “What time should I be there?”

“Whenever you want, hyung. I’m not working today either and I went to the store yesterday so I’ve got everything I need at home. If you want to just come in with me now, I’m good with that, too.”

Minho looks like he’s serious, and Chan honestly really almost takes him up on it. But he’s got a lot of no sleep behind him and something to look forward to for the first time in a while so he gives a single shake of his head.

“There’s some things I still have to arrange today, but I’ll be over once I’m done. Should I-” He breaks off when he realises quite suddenly that what he was about to suggest isn’t even possible yet, and so he changes his sentence. “Can I get your number? I’ll text you an estimate of when I’ll be done once I know.”

Minho’s eyes don’t quite sparkle, but he’s moving closer immediately and quite expectantly waiting for Chan to have his phone ready. He puts Minho’s number in his contacts, double checking to make sure he got it right, and then looks up at his neighbour after. He’s not sure he can pinpoint Minho’s expressions well yet, but the smile he’s regarded with looks like held back excitement. It’s almost more flattering than the offer of going on a date itself. To know that not only does Minho want to spend time with him, but he even looks forward to it this much.

“Alright,” Minho says after a moment of silence. “I’ll see you later then.”

Chan answers with a nod, and a brief laugh. “Yeah. Later.”

Minho nods back, smile clearly trying to break through. He unlocks his door before it can, but doesn’t leave without adding a quick: “Bye, hyung.”

When the door clicks closed again behind his neighbour, Chan’s own smile stretches his cheeks wide. Then he turns to enter his own apartment as well.

 

***

 

“I asked Minho on a date.”

The stunned silence is enough confirmation of exactly how unexpected his decision is, but it’s not long before there’s questions thrown at him from both sides.

“Hyung, what!?” Is eventually the one that his friends both agree on and he can’t help but let out a little giddy laugh, that is part disbelief and awkwardness as well.

“He suggested it, honestly, but I thought… why not? He’s nice. He’s definitely handsome. I’ve seen his face. And his thighs. And his arms.”

“Beside the point, hyung,” Changbin reasons with him.

“But a very good point, though!” Jisung agrees instead. Chan can only laugh again.

“I don’t know! It’s just one date. Tomorrow, maybe, or Wednesday. But he also invited me over for dinner tonight.”

“And that’s not a date?” Changbin sounds incredulous at this point, as well as a little amused. He knows where the warmth comes from, and the look in his best friend’s eyes.

“Listen,” he starts his defence, but falters straight away. “It’s not if that means I won’t be stressed about it, but I already am, so I guess that’s out of the picture. I’m only calling you guys because I wanted to ask what I should wear. It’s just dinner, and I do want to be comfortable, but I don’t want to seem like I didn’t care at all.”

“Okay, okay, hyung,” Jisung immediately pipes up, his excitement palpable through the phone line. “You’ll be at home, basically, so just the usual homewear is fine, but put those black sweatpants on with the white on the side. Remember? The ones that make your ass look divine! Then pair them with your white tank top, the new one, and add that soft faux-leather jacket. You know which one. It’s going to make you look so good!”

He thinks over the combination as well as how comfortable he’ll be hanging around in those clothes and smiles at the picture they make in his head. “That does sound like a good idea,” he agrees after a moment and Jisung promptly scoffs.

“Of course it does, I styled it for you! Make sure your date tomorrow starts late enough that I can still come over and style you for that one too! Your gangster man won’t know what hit him!”

The words make Chan laugh, and he can hear Changbin’s delighted giggles come over the line as well. For a long moment he’s basking in the happiness and their happy faces, but then he sobers up a little. “Is this a really bad idea?” He asks slowly. “Should I have said no?”

As always, his friends pick up on his mood and immediately grow serious again as well. “Only if you feel uncomfortable at the thought of going on a date, or going on a date with your neighbour, specifically,” Changbin says. “But honestly, hyung? This is the most excited I’ve seen you about anything in a long while, so I don’t think so.”

The call falls silent briefly after those words, as if his friends are giving him the time to let that sink in. And it’s true, he realises, he is excited. He’s a little stressed, but only because he really wants it to go well. He’s thinking about taking Minho on a date and possibly getting to kiss him and-

He catches sight of his own smile on his phone screen and promptly realises exactly how excited he really is. It makes the sensation dim down a little, though that doesn’t stop him from smiling at his friends. “I am,” he agrees, and their return grins are bright from the get go.

“That’s great, hyung!” Jisung chimes, while Changbin offers a more subdued: “I’m really glad.”

Then Jisung glances behind him before looking back at his phone. “Sorry guys, duty calls. Send us a picture of your fit before you go, hyung! Binnie, love, I’ll see you after work. Love you! Muah!”

Chan’s laughing lightly as Jisung disconnects from the call and Changbin has a dopey little smile on his face that goes hand in hand with any interaction he has with his fiancé, really. Chan’s more than familiar with it by now, and long past the point where he’d tease his friend about it. Instead he waits for Changbin to be done adoring Jisung in silence patiently, and chuckles when he catches the shift in his friend’s gaze.

“Sorry,” Changbin says, but Chan shakes his head.

“All good. I love that you want to marry him so badly.”

Changbin laughs at his joke, but nods his head anyway. “I really do, hyung,” he agrees without a doubt, only to then nod at his phone screen. “You should go and get ready for your date-not-date, my break’s almost over too. Go and have fun, Channie hyung. I hope it’ll be whatever you hope it to be.”

“I mainly just hope it’ll be nice,” he admits quietly, before taking in a breath and admitting: “And maybe I’m a little excited about being flirted with. It’s been so long since someone was interested in me that way. He seemed interested, at least. I hope I didn’t read too much into it.”

“Hyung,” Changbin breathes out a smile. “You usually read too little into things. I’m sure he’s interested in that way if he suggested you ask him on a date. You can always try and flirt a little yourself, see where it takes you.”

He hums, nodding his head at his friend before sighing deeply. “Alright. Let me go put on a Jisung-approved outfit and take some pictures to satisfy his vanity.”

They laugh together at that, before Changbin tells him to have fun yet again and then hangs up. He decides to take a quick shower to freshen up and then follow both of his friends’ advice.

 

***

 

Minho’s changed into a different outfit as well when he opens the door and Chan can’t keep himself from taking it in. It’s not the first time he notices his neighbour’s handsomeness, but it is perhaps the first time he allows himself to linger on it; to let his gaze trail over the muscled arms and the almost flawlessly sculpted features. There’s a small scar right above Minho’s left eyebrow, he notices now, and an amused little smile toying at his lips.

“Like what you see, hyung?”

The teasing words send a blush to his cheeks, but he still meets Minho’s gaze. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome, but you are. I like this shirt on you a lot. Gives you something… manly. It’s really good.”

It’s most likely his honesty that silences Minho for a moment there, their gazes briefly linked before Minho huffs out a laugh and steps aside. “Thank you. I’m glad you like it. Come on in.”

He immediately leaves his shoes near the entrance, taking the slippers he’s offered. When he looks up again, Minho’s gaze is on him still, so he offers his neighbour a smile. It’s returned almost immediately, something in Minho’s features softening.

“Was there something in particular you wanted to do?” He asks, and Chan finds himself feeling a little awkward, because they’ve never done this before. What is he going to do in Minho’s apartment for almost a whole afternoon?

“Just spend time with you,” he admits. “Get to know you. Let you flirt with me a little if you’d like.”

His words make a grin tug at the corners of Minho’s mouth, though he schools his expression again not much later, bringing a hand to his chest. “Hyung!” He says, faux-scandalised. “How forward of you! I’m an innocent man!”

“If you’re an innocent man, I’m the queen of England. You called my ass a perk of dating me.”

“I believe it’s a perk of being you. And definitely perky. Come on, let’s go to the living room.” With that, Minho turns, places a very deliberate hand on his butt as he does and squeezes lightly before he precedes him into the apartment. Chan admittedly lets out a little sound of surprise at the feeling, yet can’t deny the way he follows without complaint.

“The more you speak, the more I feel like you only want me for one thing,” he jokes. When Minho looks back at him, his eyes seem to sparkle.

“Your money?”

It makes him laugh, not because it’s so funny but because he’s happy. Giddy even, almost. Delighted by the thought that someone’s into him like this.

“If you admit the truth I’ll let you touch it again,” he suggests and Minho promptly turns around and comes over, putting his hand back on Chan’s behind.

“I want you for your dimples, the sound of your laugh, your arms and your enticing buttocks. How about that?”

It makes Chan laugh again, yet he doesn’t pull away. Minho doesn’t either, which means they’re just looking at each other while Minho’s got a hand on his butt. Somehow, the longer they look at each other, the more the tension grows, until eventually Minho turns towards him fully.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he says before he starts to lean in. Slow enough that Chan could technically stop him, but he’s coming to find that the idea of kissing Minho sparks a pleasant fluttering in his stomach that he doesn’t want to deny. So instead of saying anything, he closes the last of the gap and kisses his neighbour.

They’re barely out of the entryway, is probably the funniest part about all of this. What’s not funny at all is how good of a kisser Minho is, and how much Chan feels like he could do this for the rest of his life. There’s a hand on his face, the other one still on his ass, and Minho’s lips are moving against his leisurely, like they’ve got all the time in the world, yet with an insistence that betrays how much he’s wanted this. Minho kisses purposeful and with ample knowledge of what he’s doing, completely quieting Chan’s mind until there’s nothing left but the thought of how to better fit their mouths together and how to coax Minho to part his lips.

It’s not a real struggle, because Minho seems to read his every thought and soon enough they’re exploring each other’s mouths. Still very much in the entryway, though luckily the door to the floor hallway is closed. When they break apart for air, Chan opens his eyes slowly, but one shared look is enough for them both to lean back in.

He doesn’t know how long they kiss like that, Minho’s one hand pulling him close with a handfull of butt, the other running leisurely through his hair, down the back of his head, over the side of his neck and face. One of his own hands is fisted into Minho’s shirt, almost desperate to keep him close, while the other has settled in Minho’s side, thumbing at the sliver of skin he’s revealed there.

It’s all-consuming, his thoughts focused solely on the kissing, the feeling of it, the excitement that runs through him because of it. When eventually they have to break apart again to breathe, Minho’s forehead comes to rest against his shoulder.

“Chan hyung,” he says, voice muffled by the angle of his face. “If I’d known you kiss like that I would have already proposed doing it the very first time I saw you.” There’s a pause and then a heartfelt: “Damn.”

It makes him laugh again, though he’s a little shy from the distinct praise. “Like what do I kiss?” He can’t help but ask, because he’s curious. Curious to know what someone else thinks of him. What Minho thinks of him. There’s no response for a while, until eventually Minho lifts his head again to look at him.

“Like you’re hungry for it,” he offers. It’s a little mortifying, or it could be, but all Chan can focus on is the hunger in Minho’s own eyes.

“You kiss like you know exactly what you’re doing,” he counters, speaking a little more slowly as he lets his hand slip entirely under Minho’s shirt, resting his fingers on warm, smooth skin, sliding them up and then slotting them between Minho’s ribs. “It’s nice. I like when my partners know what they’re doing.”

“Mhm.” Minho steps closer of his own volition, bringing them almost nose to nose again. “I like when mine are hungry for me.” There’s a hint of a smile playing at his lips that Chan catches in his periphery, unable to look way from the intensity of Minho’s gaze. “I guess we’re a great match.”

He wonders briefly then if it should be different, if he should take his time more, if he should be trying to bring them back to the topic of what they’ll do until dinner. It feels nice, though, kissing like this, flirting like this, letting the anticipation simmer in the air between them. It feels nice to know he’s wanted.

“Hyung,” Minho pulls him back from wherever his mind was wandering with a single tap of a finger to his chin. “Don’t think too much. We can do the thinking later. I’m not going anywhere until at least dinner and you still owe me a date tomorrow, too. There’ll be plenty of time for everything else.”

It’s said as a reassurance, Chan thinks, but somehow it also partly sounds like a plea. After all Minho’s done for him, he can’t find it in himself to reject a request he can so easily and willingly fulfil. So he breathes out the thoughts and the tension into a smile and nods. Then, without saying anything, he leans in again.

The mood has already changed, much less tension and anticipation, but the kissing is still nice. Minho puts them in motion as well, from the hallway to the living room and onto the couch, until Chan’s pressed against the backrest and Minho’s straddling him to keep him down. Then Minho’s hands start roaming his body, so he lets his own discover Minho as well, gentle strokes as he explores the warm skin and firm muscles equally.

They kiss, but in between Minho nips at the skin of his neck lightly, or sometimes they just breathe together while their hands roam. They kiss some more, but Chan’s also tilting his head back sometimes to catch his breath, Minho’s lips and tongue leaving a wet trail on his skin. They kiss, and Chan’s hands find Minho’s butt to pull him closer, to keep him from leaving and to make sure he knows Chan wants him right where he is.

Eventually the kissing slows down and ends, but Minho remains draped against his chest, cheek resting on his shoulder, fingers tracing patterns on his arms. One of his own hands rests on Minho’s lower back, pushing up his shirt. His other hand rests on Minho’s thigh, as if to keep it from slipping away and thereby unbalancing him. If he focuses a little, he becomes aware of how in sync they’re breathing. It requires no effort at all to feel how relaxed he is.

“Mhm.” The soft hum breaks him from his post-kissing daze and he briefly tightens his hold before humming back a question. The response is another little hum, and Minho stretching a little so he can reach the column of his neck to press another kiss to it. It sends a tiny shiver down his spine, pulling a soft sigh from his lips. Minho’s teeth find his skin not much later, pinching gently before releasing again. Chan can feel himself smile. About nothing at all and everything all at the same time.

“This is nice,” he admits, trying not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere they find themselves in. Minho hums again, the rumble of it brief and distracted, as if he’s dozing off. He’s not, though, because he’s pressing more kisses to Chan’s neck, sweet affection that warms him inside and out.

“Would it ruin things if I asked you to let me stick my hand in your pants?” Minho asks a few kisses later, so out of the blue that Chan can’t help but laugh.

“What things?” He asks while he’s still chuckling, circling his arm around Minho’s body a little better, anticipation curling tight in his gut. “The only thing that’ll get ruined if you do that are my boxers, probably.”

“Your boxers and my desire for anyone else,” Minho returns his joke, but he’s just serious enough that Chan can tell. He spares a brief thought for this not even being their first date, and then an even briefer thought for Changbin telling him to only say no if he’s uncomfortable. He’s not uncomfortable right now. On the contrary. So he bites his lip and catches Minho’s gaze when the man lifts his head to look at him.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, shifting a little in place at the mere thought. “We can do that.”

Minho’s smile is victorious, smug in the most attractive of ways. Yet he doesn’t do what he asked about straight away, instead he loops both arms around Chan’s neck first to kiss him soundly. Only once he’s properly breathless all over again does Minho’s hand start to wander.

 

***

 

By the time they’re actually having dinner together, they’re both wearing different underwear, and despite his slightly damp hair being a reminder of what transpired between them, it’s not strange at all.

Minho tells him about his cats with a smile on his face, pointing out each one as he gives more information about them. When the conversation moves to other things, it happens naturally and without any awkwardness. If not for the nearly thrumming buzz still lingering under his skin, Chan could even pretend it’s a totally innocent dinner where they’re getting to know each other.

Which it is. Of course. But now it’s an innocent dinner after they had their hands down each other’s pants and kissed for about an hour. He wonders if that changes things. At the same time he’s still so surprised by the clear interest Minho showed in him that he can’t fully grasp the reality of it all yet.

All of a sudden, he realises Minho’s just looking at him in silence. He meets his gaze and raises his eyebrows briefly. The eye contact brings a smile to Minho’s face, a soft thing that immediately seems to soften the rest of him as well yet again.

“Best outcome I could have hoped for, actually.” Minho’s voice is laced with amusement, but Chan can tell he’s serious. “I really hoped you weren’t straight, but I couldn’t tell.”

It pulls a huff of a laugh from him before he shakes his head briefly. “I had a girlfriend before,” he admits, “but a boyfriend before her. I don’t think I have a preference, really. I’m sure anyone would think you’re attractive, no?”

“Says the one all of my friends have been swooning over,” Minho counters with a little laugh, though Chan can spot his ears reddening again.

“Seems hardly likely,” he counters with a laugh of his own, but Minho’s expression darkens a little when he does.

“Stop doing that,” he says quietly, not in any way angry, but still serious. “Don’t put yourself down like that. You’re so attractive. Literally all of my friends took one look and knew exactly why I’ve been suffering since I moved here.”

“I make you suffer?” Is of course what Chan replies, mainly because his own ears are probably aflame right now, a bashful chuckle leaving his lips without his approval. He leans away a bit and Minho sighs but it’s done with a fond eyeroll.

“Because you’re so fucking attractive I malfunction, yes. I don’t think I’ve worn truly casual clothes since that first day you opened the door, just in case I was going to have a surprise meeting with my hot neighbour again. Please remember these words because I will never say them out loud again in my life.”

There’s a pained twist to Minho’s lips that makes Chan laugh, because hearing these things is crazy, but also lovely. Crazy lovely. Crazy. But he can tell they’re the truth to Minho. That they really met once and Minho’s been thinking so positively about him ever since.

“And you were always so kind,” Minho adds after a moment. “That first time and every time since. Even when you looked like Death walking sometimes. It was a triple murder, really. Handsome, kind and a great butt. I never stood a chance.”

Chan’s giggles are unstoppable now, though he does reach out to try and swat at Minho’s arm for talking like that. It’s clearly not an impressive attempt because Minho barely budges, but it still makes him smile as well. When the giggles subside, Chan finds himself filled with a sudden, almost overwhelming certainty.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” he finds himself saying, and it comes out like the truth, he knows because it is. “Do this for real. See if it could work in the long run. If that- If you’re up for that?”

Instead of replying, Minho pushes himself to stand, but rather than start gathering their dishes like Chan thought he would, he walks over and leans down to kiss him again. “So up for that,” he agrees after, his smile turning into an absolutely stupid grin. “Standing for it and everything. I practically asked you for it, so.” He shrugs, arms resting on Chan’s shoulders. In turn, Chan looks up at Minho a moment longer before moving his chair back a little. Luckily Minho gets the hint, immediately moving in to occupy the freed up space and sit down on his lap.

“Hi there,” he says once he’s seated, all bright and warm amusement. “Do you come here more often?”

Chan presses his lips together, feeling stupidly happy and happily stupid. “I would love to, yes.”

Minho’s answering laugh is all he needs to lean in for another kiss.