#cat!minho

The world outside is hushed and glistening, painted white with fresh snow. Inside, the morning light is pale, but the air is warm. You are just stirring awake when a weight shifts against your side.

Minho is awake, but he’s very little this morning, a rare occurrence, especially since you returned. His cat ears are flattened tightly against his head, and he is shivering despite being completely cocooned in blankets.

“C-cold,” Minho mumbles, his voice tiny, burying his nose into your neck.

You gently rub the space between his twitching cat ears. “Good morning, jagi. You are so cold. Let’s get you warmed up.”

He shakes his head dramatically, clinging to you. “It’s wet outside.” His cat side is winning the internal debate, even though his eyes flicker toward the window with a spark of childlike curiosity.

You smile softly, understanding the internal battle. “It’s snow. Look how beautiful it is. We’re going to build the biggest, most handsome snowman ever! He needs you to give him perfect cat ears.”

The promise of a cat creation is enough to pique his interest. He sits up, watching you bundle him into five layers, fuzzy mittens that cover his hands entirely, and a scarf that hides everything but his pretty boba eyes.

Once outside, Minho hops back and forth on the porch, reluctant to step onto the pristine white expanse.

“Come on, kitty,” you coax, stepping onto the snow yourself. You squat down and gently roll a small, perfect snowball. “Start small. Just a little rolling.”

Minho watches, then carefully joins you. He pushes a small handful of snow, mimicking your movement, but the cold instantly seeps through his mittens. He lets out a sharp, soft hiss and shakes his hands violently, retreating to stand against you.

“It’s wet!” he grumbles, using the warmth of your coat to hide his nose.

“It’s not that cold,” you murmur, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Tell you what. You gather the whiskers and the eyes, and I'll do the hard work. Can you boss me around, big boy?"

That proposition seems to appeals to him. Minho stands back, tail giving a slow, thoughtful sweep in the snow as watches as you roll the massive, foundational base.

The front door creaks open and Chan steps out, wearing a thick wool sweater and a knowing grin. He stops on the porch, leaning against the railing as he spots the heavily bundled hybrid.

"I didn't know we were building a snowman today," Chan teases, his voice warm and rumbly. “You're looking especially tiny today, Min."

Minho lets out a tiny, indignant puff of air, his ears twitching under his beanie. He shuffles closer to your leg, hiding half his face behind your hip, but he manages a small, defiant tail-flick toward the Alpha.

"Shut up Channie!" Minho squeaks out from behind the scarf.

You gasp softly, reaching down to give his bundled shoulder a firm but gentle squeeze. "Minho, hey. We don't use those words, remember? That’s not a nice way to talk to Channie. Tell him you’re sorry for being rude."

Minho’s ears droop instantly under his hat, his tail going still. He looks down at his boots, a muffled, "Sorry, Channie..." drifting up from behind his scarf.

Chan chuckles, his expression softening into a fond, dimpled smile as he looks at the contrite little cat. "It's okay, kiddo. I know you're just excited." He winks at you and retreats back inside, leaving Minho huffing with a new sense of determined energy.

You roll the three balls into place, and Minho finally steps forward to apply the finishing touches. He uses twigs for whiskers, two smooth pebbles for eyes, and you manage to craft two soft, pointy snow cones for his cat ears.

But when he tries to stick a final, tiny button onto the snowman’s jacket, the delicate, over-wrought motion is too much. He slips, landing on his bottom with a soft oof, his mittens filling with snow.

He doesn't cry, but his face crumples instantly in cold, wet despair. He holds his heavy, snow-caked mittens out toward you, letting out a high-pitched, miserable whine.

"It's biting! The snow is biting my hands!" he wails, his ears drooping fully. "I'm all wet and. My socks have water in them." he whispers sadly, a fat tear welling in his eye.

You rush to scoop him up, mittens and all, tucking his cold face into your neck. “Aww jagii. Let’s get this wet stuff off you.”

You retreat immediately inside, kicking the door shut behind you. You sit him down on the laundry room bench, and he continues to whine softly, his bottom lip trembling. You peel off the soaked mittens and the heavy coat, then move on to the damp socks. His little toes are pink from the chill, and he gives a small, pathetic hiss when the cold air hits them.

"So cold," he whimpers, reaching his arms up for you.

"I know, baby. Just one second." You quickly grab a thick, oversized hoodie from the dryer—warm and smelling of lavender, and help him guide his arms through the sleeves. You pull a pair of fuzzy, thick socks over his feet, rubbing his soles to get the circulation going. He purrs weakly, the sound gaining strength as the warmth of the dry clothes begins to settle in.

You carry him to the fireplace, where the logs are already crackling. You sink into the plush rug, pulling a mountain of faux-fur blankets over both of you. You gently start running a soft, warm towel over his damp cat ears, drying the fur with slow, rhythmic strokes.

Minho sighs, melting into your lap like honey. He looks through the window at the cat-snowman standing proudly in the yard. He looks satisfied, his earlier grumpiness replaced by a sleepy, content haze.

The quiet is broken by the sound of shuffling feet as Han wanders into the room. He spots the two of you and his face lights up with a grin.

"Can I come in?" Han whispers, taking a tentative step toward the pile of blankets. "It looks so cozy. I want to cuddle too."

Minho's ears twitch, and he immediately huddles closer to you, his small hands bunching the fabric of your hoodie as he hides his face against your chest. "No, Hannie," he says firmly, his little voice muffled but certain. "No cuddle pile. Mine. Minho's."

Han pouts dramatically as he looks at you for help, but Minho just lets out a tiny, warning hiss and tightens his hold on you. You give Han a sympathetic look, and he eventually sighs, scurrying off to find another boy to cuddle.