Jinki laughs, soft and light, tilting his head towards the other’s. “Why do you ask?”

Minho shrugs, a relaxed smile softening his features. “Because I care about you,” he replies softly, still running his fingers over Jinki’s stomach. He pauses, decidedly runs his nails in-between the dips of his ribs, Jinki hissing at the contact. Minho laughs quietly, splaying his fingers over them in apology. “Sorry, I forgot you were ticklish there.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jinki murmurs, fingers reaching to brush the ends of Minho’s hair. The other watches his preoccupation, tilting his head to brush his lips over those fingers. 

“Yah,” Jinki scolds playfully. 

Minho laughs softly once more, pressing closer to brush his lips lightly over Jinki’s. 

Jinki chokes, obviously not expecting that answer. He looks at Minho with wide, honest eyes, mouth agape in a slight ‘o’. He’s blushing, a grossly embarrassing pink over his cheeks and he knows there’s no way he’s going to talk his way out of this one. He tries anyway. “What--what are you talking abou--”

It’s a mistake, a horrible mistake, when he finally looks at Minho, sees the stack of papers in his hand and realizes it was a script, he was reciting a scri--

He looks like the wind has been knocked out of him. Minho swallows, eyes wide, blinking slowly. “Why do you--why do you look like that.”

Jinki shuts his eyes tight, prays that this is all a dream but he knows he’s not that lucky. He opens them, tries for a level-headed composure but it’s pathetic, at best. “You look like you already know the answer to that question,” he dead-pans, attention focused on the patterns of the wood floor.

“Hyung,” he murmurs, almost like a plea, as if that’ll be enough to fix what he’s just done. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Jinki states, still avoiding his eyes.

Minho pauses, brows furrowed. He can feel his eyes on him, can practically see the concern them, like this, somehow, is all his fault. Minho doesn’t move, though, doesn’t say a word. Jinki decides for him.

“Yes,” Kibum moans, Minho’s fingers stroking lightly over his nipples. He slips his tongue into his mouth, curling against Minho’s. “I don’t see you for a whole fucking--” he whines, hearing Minho’s soft chuckles as his knee rubs against his crotch. “--week,” he sighs, fingers pulling at the ends of Minho’s hair in retaliation, the other barely suppressing a groan. “What do you expect? I see you lazing around all day--” Kibum hisses, Minho biting softly at his neck, his hands slipping underneath his back, bringing him closer. It’s an effort to keep quiet, faintly aware of Jonghyun and Taemin next door.  “--ready to fucking pounce you--” he gasps, Minho’s tongue tracing a line up to his jaw, the cool sensation sending shivers down his spine. “--but no, ‘later’ you said.” Kibum grabs at Minho’s shirt then, pulling it up violently. “Speaking of, take this fucking thing off already.”

Minho laughs, warm breath ghosting over Kibum’s lips. It’s impossible not to kiss him then, Kibum bringing his hands to those sharp cheekbones, thumb rubbing over them carefully as he presses his lips against Minho’s over and over again. “You said you wanted me to take this off--” he interrupts in-between, playful. 

“Your lips are distracting,” Kibum reasons, nipping at his bottom lip before the other pulls away, taking his shirt off with him. “Finally,” he smirks in appreciation, running his hands over each curve. “Flawless, as usual.”

“They have to be,” Minho chuckles, sighing as Kibum runs a finger over his happy trail. “It’s part of the job.”

“I know,” Kibum murmurs fondly, hand slipping underneath Minho’s boxers. He closes his eyes, gasping as Kibum’s fingers wrap around his length. “Thank god.”

“Are you saying--” Minho moans, Kibum’s thumb running over his slit. His fingers tighten, hooked under the other’s sweats. “--You wouldn’t love me anymore without them?”

“Never,” Kibum states with a particularly forceful tug to Minho’s shaft, smirking at the way his hands find purchase beside his head, forehead pressed against his neck, shamelessly thrusting into his hand. “This is just a plus,” he murmurs, biting Minho’s ear.

Minho moans into Kibum’s ear, too far gone to think of a clever reply. It’s cruel, he thinks, to stop then, but his hands slip away from his boxers anyway, the groan he makes at the loss sending vibrations underneath his skin. “Fuck, Kibum,” he breathes, voice raspy. His hands are quick to pull off Kibum’s shirt, his pants and boxers soon after. 

Kibum can’t help but laugh along the way, Minho grumbling at the double-knot securing his sweatpants. “I thought you wanted to take it slow,” he muses, as Minho continues to tug and pull in frustration. 

Minho kisses him roughly in response. “That was before you did this to me,” he grouses against his lips, Kibum smirking at Minho’s disheveled hair, the slick sweat blanketed over his skin, an absolute, desperate mess. “Why the fuck would you double-knot this,” he curses, still picking angrily at the ropes. 

Kibum gently pushes his hands away, undoing the knot easily. “Just to fuck with you,” he smiles malevolently, Minho swiftly ridding him of his boxers as well. He moans as Minho’s fingers trace lightly over his entrance, aggravatingly teasing. “Do you have to be like that,” Kibum whines impatiently, shutting his eyes.

“Yes,” Minho simply says, Kibum sighing at the loss as Minho searches for the lube, quickly squeezing it over his fingers. “Ready?”

Kibum groans, snarkily retorting, “I’ve been rea--” He pushes a finger in without warning, Kibum gasping, back arching slightly. “Really?”

“You said you were ready,” Minho muses, slipping another finger in, stretching him slowly. He leans over then, other hand thumbing over his nipple, lips capturing his in a languid kiss. It’s a mess, the way Kibum tries to kiss back, gasping for breath with every move of Minho’s fingers.

“I’m ready,” Kibum breathes at last, body twitching as Minho’s finger runs over his g-spot. “Honestly.”

“Okay,” Minho murmurs as he pulls his fingers away, absolutely enthralled. Kibum is hot, burning, breath coming out in shallow gasps, watching Minho with those piercing eyes and Minho just, it’s just--

“You’re beautiful.”

Kibum rolls his eyes, tries to hide a smile with the back of his hand. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.” He presses a kiss to his temple. “Every time.” His eyes. “Every day.” His cheeks. “Every second.” His lips, lingering against his mouth. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers desperately, eyes squeezed shut.

“Minho,” he whimpers, winding his arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close.

Minho adjusts himself, Kibum feeling him press against him. “I’m going to--”

“Yes,” Kibum breathes. “Ye--” he gasps, feeling every inch of Minho’s length slip inside him. His arms tighten around his neck, hopeless, dizzying kisses peppering Minho’s mouth, “Yes.”

It’s different every time, the way they do this, the way he feels--

“God, Kibum,” he grunts, every push sending him deeper into blissful oblivion. His eyes are barely open, desperately trying to drink everything in, but it’s always too much with him, always a jarring assault on his senses. “Kibum, you--”

“Stop talking--” He cuts, biting at Minho’s lips. “Let me just--” he gasps, tangling his fingers into his hair, pressing his forehead against his, thrusts frantically meeting Minho’s.

The baby murmurs quietly at their feet, tucking its chin underneath the many blankets in the carriage.

“I’m sorry,” Minho chuckles, resting his chin on Jinki’s shoulder. “I couldn’t resist,” he whispers quietly in Jinki’s ear.

“Yeah yeah,” Jinki rolls his eyes, smiling amusingly before regaining his composure. “We should call the police.”

“Yeah, we should,” Minho agrees, picking up the carriage and carefully bringing it inside their apartment. He places it on the coffee table in the living room, sitting on the couch soon after, Jinki following suit.

"The more I look at it, the cuter it gets,” Jinki grins, leaning over the sleeping bundle.

Minho laughs quietly then, glancing at Jinki in amusement. “It?”

“Do you know what gender it is?” Jinki playfully retorts, nudging his shoulders against Minho’s.

Minho pauses for a moment, peering down at the rosy-cheeked little bundle. He begrudgingly nods his head. “Touché.”

“In any case,” Jinki sighs, placing his hands on his knees. “Let’s hope it doesn’t wake up crying or something like that–” Jinki adds, getting up and banging his shin squarely on the table in front of him. 

Cue the crying. Cue the exasperated look Minho sends him as he cradles the baby in his arms and rocks it gently, blatantly glaring at Jinki’s silent apology.

“Shh shh,” he cooes, rocking it back-and-forth in his arms. The crying slowly quiets, Minho pausing to look at the big, round eyes staring squarely up at him. “I think it’s a girl,” he smiles, bringing her closer to his chest.

“And why do you say that?” Jinki questions, peering over. 

Minho shrugs, “She just feels like one. I mean,” he continues. “We could check.”

“Right, yeah,” Jinki nods, feeling embarrassed for the both of them. “I can’t believe we just realized that now.”

“Hey, at least we did,” Minho reasons half-heartedly.

Jinki  quickly, carefully peels away the covers and checks. He nods an affirmative. “Yep, your instincts were right. It’s a girl.”

Minho sits down then, watching as her fingers curl into his shirt. He pauses, eyes thoughtful. “I wonder why they left her.”

Jinki sits down beside him. “I couldn’t imagine why you’d ever want to”, he says, laughing quietly as the little one takes hold of his pinky. “Why would you ever want to let her go,” he murmurs.

Minho looks at him, the corner of his lips turning up. He presses a lingering kiss to his temple, Jinki smiling up at him in amusement. “What was that for?”

Minho kisses him again, capturing Jinki’s lips this time. He feels him lean into it, reflexively moving closer, sending butterflies to his stomach. “I love you,” he whispers against his lips, their foreheads pressed together.

“I love you, too,” Jinki beams, pressing a chaste kiss to Minho’s lips before pulling away. 

Silence settles comfortably between them, Jinki leaning on Minho’s shoulder.

He can feel the nervousness bubbling at the back of his throat, the way his thoughts rush back to old memories, memories of--where they--

Maybe--

“Jinki.” Minho says, a calm seriousness to his voice.

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember when we talked about,” Minho pauses, swallowing. “When we talked about adopting?”

He can feel how Jinki tenses up against him, Minho quickly regretting ever mentioning the words. “Nevermind,” he quickly dismisses, placing the baby back into the carriage. “Where’s the phone--”

Jinki grabs his arm, fingers wrapped securely around his wrist, stopping him in his place. “Wait.”

Minho sits back down, watching Jinki patiently. Jinki’s fingers intertwine with his, a reassuring smile across his lips.

“I remember, talking about it,” Jinki starts. He looks down then, mumbling the next few words. “And how I reacted about it.” Minho squeezes his hand, urging him to continue, Jinki smiling in appreciation. “But I, I can see why, why you’d want one. I mean, want to adopt.”

Minho nods quietly, smile careful. 

“Well, I mean, I always have, but I guess seeing the real thing in front of us, having it practically be given to us.” Jinki pauses, chewing at his lip, brows furrowed. “I don’t know why it feels different. Or maybe I’ve changed.” He looks over at the baby once more, watching them quietly with those big, innocent eyes. “I was thinking, why don’t we call the police tomorrow? I mean, it’s Christmas day, and I would rather not--” I’d rather not leave her like that.

Minho nods once more. “I’d rather not, too.” He takes Jinki’s hand into his own, thumb rubbing circles into his skin. He brings it up to his lips, kissing his fingers softly, eyes never leaving Jinki’s. “I love you.”

Jinki laughs shyly, making feeble attempts to pull his hand away. Minho won’t let him. “You just said that.”

“You keep making me want to say it,” his lips run over Jinki’s cheek, nose, eyes. “Over and over.”

“I know,” Jinki mumbles, wrinkling his nose. His are cheeks warm. “I need stop doing that.”

Minho chortles, letting go of Jinki’s hand to place them on his cheeks. “I love you,” he says once more, looking Jinki straight in the eye. He kisses Jinki on the lips. “And there’s no way you’re going to stop me from saying that. I love everything you do, everything you are.”

It only takes a second for Jinki to kiss him, open-mouthed and breathy, fingers curling at his nape--

Only to stopped by the sweet, shrill sound of the baby before them, long-forgotten.

“Is it bad that I forgot--”

“Yes. But I forgive you,” Minho teases, bringing her in his arms once more. “We were ignoring her,” he murmurs, gently poking her nose. She laughs at that, grabbing for his fingers.

“You know she’s probably gonna keep us up all night,” Jinki says, deadpan.

“Probably.”