Remember That I Love You

At Minho’s introduction to Thomas in narrative:

“…. Minho is silent, locking eyes with Thomas as he passes. Thomas stares after them”

Turns out Minho wasn’t kidding about ordering food from the hotel, and since they didn’t stay for the brunch part and didn’t have to pay out of pocket, Thomas didn’t protest too much. Minho skimmed through the menu on his own and picked up the phone to call reception.

“Yes, hello, I’d like to order some food—“

Thomas tuned out the rest, not even registering that he let Minho lead in so many of these situations. It was only after hearing the click of the phone being put down that he turned around and frankly wished he hadn’t.

“So you wanna kiss now?” Minho spoke and Thomas having already experienced around three mini heart attacks today alone, courtesy of this infuriatingly human, protested loudly.

“I was kidding!” he pouted. “Literally anything would have been better than seeing Gally again,”

“Aww, you’re saying you don’t enjoy my kisses?”

Minho was teasing. Thomas knew he was teasing, but it still left him speechless. How was he supposed to respond to that?!  “N-no, I-I mean yes. Uh..I—“ Minho snickered and Thomas glared at him, so so embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, I know you do,” he said and caught Thomas by surprise as he tilted Thomas’ face up, brushing the softest of kisses against his flaming cheek.

Thomas almost almost leaned up to deepen the kiss, but thank God his mind still possessed some self-preservation instincts as he stood still, not responding to his touch.

“You’re no fun,” Minho wasn’t deterred however, “You’re the one that wanted to practice before.”

“Like I said, I—“ Thomas started hotly, but Minho didn’t allow him to continue, sweeping him up into a deep kiss.

And Thomas was weak, okay? There was only so much strength he had to resist him, and maybe tomorrow he’d wonder if he’d consumed more alcohol than he thought, but today, today he opened up for Minho, moaning into the kiss.

He didn’t know if he was annoyed or grateful towards the universe, then, when a knock on the door startled them apart. Embarrassed for far too many reasons, Thomas mumbled something about changing out of his nice clothes as he walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He knew he couldn’t stay in there forever since they had hot food waiting for them but he also needed a minute to calm down, aroused at their actions.

Minho was so careful, they fit so perfectly, Thomas was having a harder and harder time reminding himself this wasn’t real. — The longer Thomas took in the washroom, the more Minho started feeling guilty about teasing him so much. Sometimes he couldn’t help it…sometimes he was just being the world’s biggest shit and was constantly surprised Thomas hadn’t yelled at him yet.

But Thomas had...moaned. Goddamn moaned!! Whether he realized it or not, he’d pushed himself closer, opened up to him easier, and it felt less and less like Minho was providing ‘lessons’.

Hell. Had ever been that?

He’d seen Thomas staring at him hungrily many times when he thought Minho couldn’t see him, and other times he was daring, like in that clothing store. But sometimes he was a mess too.

Everything pointed to attraction but was it only physical? Did Thomas just think he was hot? Did he care about Minho as a person?

As much as he didn’t want to think about it, Minho hated it. He may be a flirt, but he didn’t sleep around and it hurt to think Thomas might only be interested it that, so Minho did what he always did when it came to his feelings—he pushed it down, locked it up and only then donned his carefree facade.

“You stuck or what?” He laughed as he knocked on the washroom door. — It was a bit of an understatement that Thomas was internally freaking out…and this time no one would blame him for doing so. What other reaction was he supposed to have knowing he’d have to sleep with Minho?

You wish, his mind unhelpfully supplied. It was odd and at the same time it wasn’t. It wasn’t because he was no stranger to Minho walking around the apartment shirtless, but the difference was, he had no excuse to leave.

He was stuck in the same hotel room as the guy he’d had imagined plenty dirty fantasies of. Let’s not forget suffering a heart attack from when Minho practically cornered him against the door.

Thomas couldn’t even look him in the eye now.

Great!

“Which side of the bed do you want?”

Oh that’s right. The true dilemma. The bed. They were going to sleep in the same bed! What if he got overly cuddly in his sleep? Would it be too weird to suggest putting a pillow in the middle? Thomas hoped Minho wouldn’t get offended but if he wanted to get any rest at all, he’d have to speak up.

“Thomas?”

“Pillow!” Thomas shouted out without thinking. So much for speaking up. Inwardly facepalming, Thomas rushed to explain, “I-I m-might get c-cuddly. So. Pillow.”

“Cuddles? I like cuddles,” Minho’s teasing tone had entered the chat.

“Yeah well you won’t think that tomorrow morning,” Thomas shot back.

“Oh. I see. Death cuddles.” Thomas glared at him as Minho laughed at him.

“Just—just hand me a pillow. Don’t you care about my comfort? How is it my boyfriend doesn’t care about my comf—“ Thomas got cut off as Minho threw a pillow directly towards his face. “Did you just..?”

Minho raised his eyebrows looking all too smug, and Thomas just couldn’t have that. He didn’t even pause, swinging the pillow trying to get to Minho.

He shouldn’t have bothered, Minho didn’t even pick another pillow, simply started wrestling Thomas’ out of his grip.

Then all of a sudden, Minho let go and it caused Thomas to topple onto the bed. He was quick though and rolled on the other side, grabbing a bolster in the process. 

“You won’t win so easily,” Thomas grinned.

“Hmm…You shouldn’t be so sure of yourself, Thomas.” Minho’s challenged him, walking around slowly, and Thomas’ eyebrows shot up as he came closer, “Take your shot, Thomas.”

Thomas suppressed a shiver at the way Minho kept saying his name, and tightened his hold and swung. Next thing he knew, the bolster was on the floor and he was flat on top of the bed, staring up at his pretend boyfriend, who’d caged him with his muscular arms.

“You’re so hot,” he said breathlessly without thinking. Minho blinked down at him in surprise, then pursed his lips, straightening up. An awkward silence surrounded them, until Minho shook his head.

“So is the food in case you forgot...and I thought you said you were getting out of your clothes? Isn’t that what you said you were doing?” he cocked an eyebrow at the younger boy and he wanted to disappear on the spot.

“You want me to take off my clothes?” Thomas sat up slowly, “Now?”

“Well you sure as hell aren’t sleeping in them.” Minho scoffed and Thomas realized he didn’t know he was doing it. Minho didn’t know he was being hot. But that’s the only thing that was currently running through Thomas’ head.

“You need to stop being hot,” Thomas said softly.

“What?” Minho asked.

“Nothing.” Thomas stood up and gathered some clothes to change out of in the bathroom.

When he came back out, Minho had plated some food for himself and was seated on the sofa. Thomas after helping himself, joined him by the large window.

“So…my mom has kind of ordered me to bring you over to the house tomorrow. Are you okay with that?” Thomas opened with.

“Well…the gig’s up with her, right? She knows we’re not dating so we won’t really have to pretend,” Minho said, but he looked nervous all the same.

Right.” Thomas said softly, looking at the darkening sky. “I mean we’re not even friends, right?”

“What?” Minho said incredulously. “You didn’t just—of course we are, you idiot,”

“Well, do you know my favourite, favourite col—“

“Gold.” Minho said even before Thomas finished his question. “Not even yellow..it has to be that gold gold—whatever that’s supposed to mean,” Minho rolled his eyes. “Oh! And you hate it when someone calls black, a colour. ‘It’s a shaaaade!’” he imitated Thomas badly.

“You’re observant in an annoying way, you know that?” Thomas grumbled. “You’re making me look bad. I mean, I know you like green, but not the specific green.”

“That’s because I don’t have a specific green.”

“Everyone has a specific kind. You know the kind that makes you happy by just spotting it.” Thomas pointed to his pyjamas that happened to be summer green. “Do you like this green?”

“Yup.”

“How about the pine trees in the painting?”

“Yeah,”

“What about…” Thomas lay across Minho’s lap to point to a pillow in the corner. “That one? The puke-y green?”

Minho laughed, “Even that,” he whispered into Thomas’ ear. Since it was near. Yup. He was going with that.

“Okay,” Thomas conceded with a sigh, laying his head on Minho’s lap.

In silence, they watched as slowly the city’s lights came on and it didn’t even occur to either, that their positions on the sofa was very intimate for people who were apparently just friends.

“What time does your mom want us over?” Minho asked, balancing his plate with one hand over Thomas’ head, while eating with the other.

“Two? She knows I’m lazy in the mornings, so later the better.”

“Do you wanna…” Minho hesitated, “have brunch downstairs then? Use the amenities since it’s paid for?”

“Doesn’t that sound date-like though?”

“It’s only a date if one of us pays,” Minho said lightly. “and kiss at the end of the date.”

“Oh.” Thomas sat up. “We kiss all the time though,”

“That seriously can’t be used as a point. You know. Considering. Besides, you didn’t want to kiss today, remember?”

Thomas rolled his eyes and leaned forward, giving Minho a quick peck on the lips. “Happy?” when Minho looked at him weirdly, Thomas misinterpreting it, moved in again, french kissing his flatmate this time. “Better?” he asked with a smile.

Minho gave him a weak smile and cleared his throat, “Finish your food so we can leave the tray outside for the staff.”

Thomas nodded and went back to eating. Minho wordlessly untangled himself and walked towards the bathroom. Moments later Thomas heard the shower going.

Halfway through, he realized why Minho seemed awkward before.

He’d kissed him.

Just because.

“Well. Fuckkk.” — Thomas woke up surrounded by warmth. The fluffy duvet, the bolster against his back, and the cloud-like pillow. Why were hotel pillows always the softest? Would they notice if he stole one? No, right? There were like…eight pillows on this bed. Who needed eight pillows on one bed?

“The staff would totally notice if you stole the pillow,” a raspy voice whispered close to his ear, and Thomas opened his eyes slowly. He’d ended up curled at the edge of the bed but suspected the arm holding him was the only reason he hadn’t toppled off.

Which meant..they were spooning… Why wasn’t this feeling uncomfortable? he wondered to himself. This is what he’d been afraid of, this type of intimacy but he didn’t feel overwhelmed or crowded.

Strange.

“Can you read minds too now?”

“You tend to talk in your sleep,” Minho’s amused voice didn’t sound close anymore but when Thomas turned around to face him, they were pushed together again.

This was nice. He liked it here. With that thought, Thomas reached for Minho’s arm and put it on himself, resting his head on Minho’s chest.

“Uhh,” Minho’s fingers twitched against his back.

“It’s too early. Go back to sleep.” Thomas mumbled and promptly went back to sleep, having not processed a single moment of what he’d just done.

Minho was extremely confused as he lay beside Thomas cuddling him again. Thomas was treating him like they were already boyfriends, not two people who settled on a pre-agreed upon plan. If someone had told him that Thomas had major intimacy and trust issues, he one hundred percent wouldn’t believe them.

That however always remained at the back of his mind. Thomas had suffered some sort of partner abuse and everyone seemed to get the impression that Minho knew all the details…which he definitely didn’t. Thomas refused to tell him, despite Minho bringing it up once before.

It wasn’t that he was nosy—no, it was that he was afraid he’d accidentally say the wrong thing. Some careless comment could be a trigger for Thomas and Minho wouldn’t even know what to do because he didn’t know the full story.

One thing was for sure…this conversation was going to be an uncomfortable one. Besides, all good things will come to an end and their honeymoon like vacation mood could only last so long, before it crashed. Right?

Thomas could be all cuddly with his friends, so it didn’t have to mean anything.

Right?

Right??

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