OFF-ROAD. － b.c + l.mh

↺ 3: bloom

As silent and ominous as he had been, Chan let Minho stay with him inside the stationery for as long as he needed, abreast the small heater the worker had kept plugged in beneath his spot at the counter.

Chan didn't ask questions and Minho didn't mind, for instead the former attempted to start up conversation and make laughter bubble from between the taller's purple-tinted lips.

It was that day, so horrible in its beginning and much worse in its ending, but with such a lovely middle, that Minho fell for the boy in the blue sweater vest.

Both the same age, naïve and curious, the brunet in need of love and the brunet brimming with compassion to share. They spent countless afternoons together and each time Minho was sent to buy alcohol or cigarettes, he'd stop by that stationery and get lost in chatting with the part-timer.

He didn't care that his tardiness upset his father, and he didn't mind the colours his soft flesh morphed into each time the man expressed his rage.

As long as Chan was there, nothing else really mattered at all.

Christmas was soon to come and that meant days of not seeing his crush, the shop closing for the holidays.

Though the two of them didn't attend the same school, they lived relatively close, and so it was when Chan suggested they meet on Christmas eve at his home, that Minho felt a rush of excitement.

The boy tended to spend the feast alone in his room, and the idea of spending it with someone like Chan, someone he profoundly cared for, meant more than he could express.

That Christmas eve was the first night he snuck out of his house, the first night he sprinted to Chan's place with the address the other had given him repeating within his head, eyes wide and a grin of shock from the disbelief that he had actually just done such a thing as escape.

It was the first night he knocked on that polished wooden door, feet anxiously shuffling upon the snow and nose dripping, but an endless current of adrenaline running through his veins.

It was the first night Chan introduced him to his family as a friend, and it was the first night Minho felt as if they could become his own.

It was a night of many firsts, but most importantly the night of their first kiss, illuminated by a bedside lamp which radiated comfort with its warm yellow, within the disorderly bedroom.

Sharing one mattress and nestled beneath the hefty quilt and blankets, Minho stared at the boy laying on his side, facing him, who blinked back at him with a shimmer in his eyes not even stars could mimic.

The pillowcase smelled of Chan's shampoo and the heat they shared dazed the brunet's tired mind until the thumping of his enthusiastic heart slowed to a relaxed beat, and he leaned slowly closer, gaze alternating between the other's drooping eyes and puffy lips.

Chan didn't move away, rather he watched on with wonder until their mouths met in a chaste kiss, and they fell into a blissful state which went undisturbed until they parted, moments later.

Eyelids dragged open so that they could lock their irises in that same look as before, and Minho held his breath for he feared his friend's reaction to the kiss.

It was only when he heard the whispered words, lined with an almost pleading tone which left Chan's rose-coloured lips, that he eased.

"Kiss me again."

❅❂❅

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