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Minho is in a bit of a situation.
Ten seconds ago he didn't believe magic was real. Now, the tiny grey paws sprouting out from where his hands should be—and the meow that emerges from his mouth when he tries to politely but firmly tell his former date where to shove it—makes its reality incontrovertible.
That's how he finds himself stranded at 10pm on a street corner in Itaewon staring at his reflection in the glass window of a closed pharmacy. And—yep. There he is.
All nine inches of him.
He's a tiny, grey kitten with oversized woeful eyes and two pointy ears. He figures out how to move his tail, and it waves in the glass, too.
Yikes.
He thought he'd handled the breakup—if you could even call it that—delicately enough. Personally, he'd prefer to be told directly if his date wasn't into him after three tries. None of this tiptoeing around.
But try as he might, Minho couldn't work up the interest in Siwoo. He was handsome enough, for sure, nice enough—or so he'd thought—kissed well enough, okay, but as agreeable as Siwoo might be, there was just something missing, a big something, a huge something—namely, that Yoo Siwoo wasn't Kim Kibum.
Kibum. The fashion designer he'd been friends with since forever.
The elvish, whip-smart, beautiful man who had an incisive remark or a startling insight as the situation required, was one of the most unique and creative people Minho had ever met.
They're just friends. After all—hadn't Kibum made that clear enough? Every time Minho had tried to flirt, or tease, or once—horrifyingly—asked him out on a date, Kibum had conclusively returned him to the friend zone.
And being just friends is fine. Minho loves counting Kibum among his friends. Jinki, Jonghyun, and Taemin are wonderful, and all together? They give his humdrum life verve.
And if sometimes when the nights are longer—or when he's in the mood to watch a funny movie and laugh along with someone else, or when he wants to cook a meal with another person instead of eat by himself—if during those times it's Kibum who comes to mind, then that's just something he has to get over.
Find someone else to replace Kibum's image in his mind.
So, dating. He's cycled through a few, and they ended amicably enough with both parties agreeing the spark just wasn't there.
But this time, this time he'd given Siwoo a hug goodbye, and Siwoo had asked about "next time," and Minho explained that he'd had a nice time but just didn't see it working out.
Surprise had appeared on Siwoo's face, followed by a cold fury he hadn't seen on him before, and then suddenly Minho was six feet shorter, screeching in a tiny voice as he watched Siwoo scoop up his wallet and keys from the pile of now-too-big clothes around him.
Then, Siwoo was gone.
So.
He's in a bit of a situation.
Minho sighs, if that's something cats can do, and looks forlornly at the pile of clothes and shoes a few meters away that used to belong to him.
He can continue standing on this street corner praying that he's having a particularly realistic nightmare, or he can find a gutter to hide himself in, or he can go to Kibum's apartment and try to convince him to let him in.
The first option is a delusion, the second sounds wet and cold, and the third is...well, wishful thinking at best.
He goes to Kibum's apartment.
At least it's also in Itaewon. (I couldn't possibly bear to live anywhere else, except maybe Hannam-dong, but we can't have it all, he'd once lamented in a superior tone that made Minho roll his eyes.) In human form, it would probably take him fifteen minutes to get to Kibum's complex; in kitten form, he has no idea.
Still, the cats Minho has glimpsed on city streets have been no slouches, moving with lightning-quick speed on paws that seemed to barely touch the pavement.
He hastens to the edge of the sidewalk closest to the storefronts for protection from foot traffic and cars and begins the journey.
Twenty-five minutes later, significantly more rumpled, and having only barely survived a run-in with a tiny poodle, Minho sneaks into the looming high-rise where Kibum lives before a gang of half-drunk women exiting the building can notice.
It's much easier to be inconspicuous when he's so small, and his grey fur helps him blend into the shadows.
Getting to Kibum's floor is harder—he rides up and down the elevator for a while, hoping someone lands on floor 22 since pressing the button himself is hopeless, but in the end he takes the stairs, fatigued though he is by now.
When, after his long day, and even longer date, and much, much longer journey to arrive here, he claws Kibum's door frantically, it's with a significant amount of relief at seeing a familiar face and finding a warm place to sleep away from rain and the din of the streets.
He's nervous that perhaps Kibum isn't home, but he can hear the television going, and before long Kibum's voice as he lectures the dogs reverberates muffled behind the door. Minho scratches harder.
"God, what is that?" Kibum asks the dogs.
There's the stomping of feet getting closer, and then locks being removed, and the door swings open.
Kibum towers above him, looks out into the hallway, and, seeing no one, frowns. Minho stares back up at him and blinks. He hopes he's cute enough.
CommeDes and Garçons come up behind him, yapping excitedly. Minho shrinks back, but it's okay, they stay safely behind Kibum's legs. Kibum follows their attention, however. He takes one look at Minho.
"Nope," he says and slams the door.
Minho returns to Kibum's the next day.
Maybe it's pathetic, but what can he do? He spent the night shivering in the basement of the apartment complex, trying not to be freaked out about his unexpected urge to chase down and disembowel all the mice whizzing by him.
He suddenly possesses night vision, which was helpful, but does nothing to allay his human desire for light. Until he can figure out how to get out of this mess and return to his human form, he needs someone to take care of him.
He needs Kibum.
So there he is, digging deeper scratches into Kibum's door. The dogs bark. Kibum barks back at them. It won't be long now.
Minho gets into position, sitting on his butt with two paws pressed close together in front of him as he gazes up expectantly at the door handle.
The door opens.
This time, Kibum looks down at him immediately as if expecting him and sighs, one hand on the door handle, the other on his hip. CommeDes and Garçons are pooling around his ankles, barking softly.
Minho purrs.
"Listen, kitty," Kibum says, "I'd love to adopt you, but the kids would eat you alive. Go find someone else to make those big green eyes at. I hear Nam Kyunghee on the top floor is lonely. Why don't you give her a try?"
Then Kibum shuts the door.
Well, fuck.
The following day, after another harrowing night in the basement (this time Minho barely restrained himself from stalking a particularly choice brown mouse), Minho shows up at Kibum's door again as if reporting for work.
He scratches; CommeDes and Garçons bark excitedly; Kibum opens the door and stares at him in disapproval. It's becoming routine.
This time, however, Kibum's shoulders slump, and with a sigh rolls his eyes, and says, "God, fine."
He reaches down to scoop up Minho.
Expecting to be rejected yet again, Minho is shocked to be instead rising through the air with nothing but Kibum's bony fingers to protect him. He shouts out, and is only mildly annoyed that all he actually manages is a high-pitched meow. He digs his claws into Kibum's colorful silk shirt as soon as he gets close enough to grab hold of it.
"What's this?" Kibum coos. "You were so desperate to get adopted and now you're terrified that I'm finally picking you up? Some consistency would be nice. I'm doing you a favor, after all."
Minho can't wait to get back down to the ground, preferably inside Kibum's apartment rather than outside of it. He does his best to restrain himself from scratching Kibum, which would surely lead to his excommunication, but he leaps down as soon as Kibum closes the door behind him.
CommeDes and Garçons immediately run after him despite Kibum's stern commands, but Minho jumps up onto Kibum's pristine leather sofa bed and then up to a nearby shelf. He looks down at where the dogs are barking excitedly.
Kibum laughs. "Well, kitty definitely outsmarted you two, didn't he?"
He walks over to where Minho is perched on an upper shelf and scratches a finger under his chin. "What's the plan now? You just going to hide up here permanently, hm?"
It's nice to have Kibum petting him, and it's also nice to know Kibum is not going to murder him, so he lays down and offers Kibum the top of his head.
Kibum takes the hint, and immediately begins scratching him behind the ears. "Never had a cat before. You're cute, I'll give you that. Let me introduce you to the kids, okay? You all have to learn to get along or this is not going to work."
This time when Kibum lifts him off the shelf, Minho accepts the ride with less protest and tries to trust that Kibum won't drop him.
Kibum sits down on the couch, Minho protectively wrapped up in his arms, holding him away from the dogs but giving them just enough of a view of him.
"Kids," Kibum starts, "this is your new brother. You may meet him now, but don't be assholes about it."
The dogs leap up onto the couch, tails wagging excitedly.
They are so much bigger than Minho remembers, and honestly kind of gross? At least, his kitten self thinks so. He shrinks back into Kibum's arms.
"One at a time, okay? I know you're excited, but he's tiny and scared. Maybe take it down a notch." Kibum restrains CommeDes with his free arm and lets Garçons get closer.
Minho is—okay, he's a little bit intimidated, he's not going to lie—but he tries to be brave. He lets Garçons sniff him and is rewarded with a lick. Maybe Garçons doesn't hate him. Another lick.
Kibum allows CommeDes to join in, and he goes through the same sniff and lick ritual. The dogs yip happily, tails wagging frantically as if in recognition.
Wait.
Do they recognize him? Minho peers into their eyes and is greeted by the same happy faces he gets whenever he visits Kibum.
CommeDes lies down on the couch and then goes belly up, eyes googly and craning his head to see if Minho is watching. Two seconds later, Garçons is doing the same thing.
"Oh my god, they're obsessed with you. What the hell," Kibum says to him. He rubs the dogs' bellies indulgently.
Minho purrs as his tiny chest swells with pride. Of course CommeDes and Garçons are obsessed with him! They always liked him better than Kibum. This just proves it.
"Guess you can stay, kitty. Short term, of course. This isn't a free ride. Maybe I can find someone willing to adopt you. If not, we'll look for an agency, hm?" Kibum dumps him unceremoniously on the floor, where Minho lands on all four feet. "For now, I need to get dinner going."
Kibum takes out his phone, an expression of concentration on his face as he types furiously. He puts the phone back in his pocket, then takes it out again, frowning when he looks at the screen. He taps it again, and then holds the phone to his ear. His frown deepens when whoever he's calling doesn't answer.
"God, where is he? He's been blowing me off for days. Asshole." He looks with distaste at Minho, CommeDes, and Garçons, who are all watching him expectantly. "Stop judging me. If Minho-ssi isn't around, I'll just cook dinner for myself. I'm capable of being alone, how dare you."
Kibum turns his back on them, his shoulders hunched over slightly as he examines his phone.
"There," he announces after a few moments, whirling around and facing them with a triumphant expression on his face. "That's dinner sorted. Now what to do about you lot?" He grimaces and goes into the kitchen to rifle through the cabinets and fridge.
Satisfied that Minho is going to stay, the dogs wander off and each find their usual nook in the apartment to curl up in.
Minho wonders if he's supposed to remain on the floor, but that seems ridiculous when there's a nice couch available, so he jumps back up and pads around until he identifies a spot in the corner that is particularly soft.
He kneads it with his paws until it's perfect, and then he lies down, savoring the first real rest he's had since this whole disaster began.
*
They fall into a routine.
At night, Minho wanders around Kibum's apartment, prodding at Kibum's books and wishing he could read one, jumping on the remote in fruitless attempts to turn on the TV, and investigating methods for opening the fridge door (and failing to find one).
In the mornings, he waits on the floor beside Kibum's bed for him to push up his silk eye mask and confront the day. Kibum is horrified at the daylight, but then always laughs when he sees him sitting there. "Aish, kitty, you're practically one of the dogs."
Then Kibum gets ready for work while Minho swirls around his feet, doing his best to outdo CommeDes and Garçons in a bid for attention. Kibum seems used to dealing with tiny, overexcited animals and maneuvers around him with grace.
While he spends long hours away at the design firm, Minho nestles into what has now become his favorite couch spot and dozes the day away. Through a half-open eye, he watches the dogs cavort with each other and play and communicate in their own strange language.
When Kibum finally returns, makeup smudged and designer clothing wrinkled, Minho is there right next to the dogs to greet him. All of the stress melts off his face when he looks down at them.
"Aw, you're all here," he says.
The evenings are slow, with Kibum leisurely cooking or ordering a meal, everyone subdued after the long day. Kibum will curl up on the couch with a fashion magazine or listen to music, eyes closed in rapture, while Minho plants himself on Kibum's shoulder or belly or anywhere where he can effectively get as much of Kibum's attention as possible.
As comfortable as his new home is, Minho can't help but notice a slump to Kibum's shoulders that wasn't there before as he does chores or prepares meals. Even watching his favorite drama, Kibum seems distracted, eyes returning frequently to his phone before throwing it aside with a sigh.
"He's still not answering, kitty."
Minho raises his head from where he's cozied up on Kibum's stomach and blinks at him.
"Right? It's getting weird. How long has it been now? Let's see..." Kibum starts counting on his hands. "I haven't heard from him since...well, since right around the time you showed up. That was a little over a week ago, right? Usually I can't get him to leave me alone. Now he won't even answer my texts."
Hey. Minho does leave Kibum alone plenty. It's not like he texts him every single day. (Does he?) And even if he does, Kibum should be grateful to talk to him! He digs his claws into Kibum's sweater.
"Ow! What the hell, kitty!" Kibum pushes him off and onto the floor, then stands up. He paces around as he dials someone, probably him.
If Kibum is calling him, he won't have any luck. That horrible man has his phone, if he hasn't already ditched it in the river.
"See?" Kibum spins around to ask him, as if he needs to convince Minho that something's wrong. Minho knows there's something wrong, and it's very, very wrong. "He's still not answering. He can't be mad at me, not when I'm this perfect, and besides, when has Minho ever shut up about anything?"
Minho would dig his claws into Kibum's belly again if he were close enough. Being as it is, he hops back up onto the newly vacated sofa and settles into his usual spot.
Perfect, his ass. And Minho not shut up? Does Kibum even know himself?
"You're useless," Kibum tells him, and spins around with the phone to his ear again. The dogs get up from their beds and pad over to Kibum, circling his ankles in concern. "Hyung? It's me. Have you heard from Minho lately?" A pause. "No, I don't know. Radio silence. Yeah, his phone goes right to voicemail now." Kibum stills. "Should we be worried? If you could, yeah. I might go over there to check it out. Okay. Thanks, hyung."
Kibum sighs and turns to face the dogs and Minho. "Jinki hasn't heard anything. He's going to call Jjong-hyung and Taemin, see if they know anything."
Kibum disappears into the bedroom, then reemerges fully dressed. He wrestles on his coat and grabs his bag.
"I'm going to head over there. See what the deal is. If Minho doesn't open the door, I'm just gonna barge in. Do you all agree that's appropriate?"
They look back at him blankly.
"Good." Kibum nods, determined. "It's not breaking and entering if I know his passcode."
Minho leaps off the couch and runs over to him, rubbing the side of his body against Kibum's leg. He meows.
"Aw, are you giving me extra support, kitty?" Kibum croons as he reaches down to scratch his head. "Good kitty. Hyung will be home soon, don't worry."
Minho purrs. He wishes there were some way to tell him that he's all right. Well, maybe not all right, but at least safe and alive.
Still, it will be good for Kibum to go to his place and confirm he's not there. Maybe he'll figure out that he's gone. Maybe find a way to help him—but god, Minho can't imagine how.
Or maybe it's futile, and going to his apartment will only hurt Kibum more.
The thought makes him dig his claws into Kibum's pant leg in an effort to keep him from leaving.
"Ow, kitty!" Kibum says. "I'm not even going to be out that long. Try to be brave. I'm gonna get you declawed, I swear to god."
Minho looks up at him imploringly.
"Ugh, you're too cute. Okay fine, no, I would never get you declawed, stop looking at me like that. But seriously, I have to go check on Uncle Minho, okay? I'll be back soon, promise."
When Kibum returns hours later, his jaw is set and his eyebrows are furrowed.
He takes his coat off and slips out of his shoes, and then he goes into the kitchen. He doesn't even look at Minho or the dogs.
There's the sound of pans jangling together. Water rushes from the tap. A cabinet door slams shut. The dogs quietly walk over to the kitchen, poking their heads around the wall.
"Not now, boys. Daddy's upset."
Kibum doesn't return to his normal, cheerful self all evening.
Despite all the banging around in the kitchen, he doesn't eat much. He doesn't get his phone out to call Jinki or Jonghyun or Taemin. He doesn't gossip to the dogs or watch his dramas or pet Minho.
He mostly just sits on the sofa, staring out the window with a deep frown on his face.
Minho wishes he could reassure him somehow.
Later, when Kibum is getting ready to sleep, Minho slips into the bedroom and jumps up onto the bed. He turns around a few times before curling around himself, his butt half on Kibum's pillow.
He's never slept here before. Nights are for having full dominion over the apartment unbothered. But tonight it's different. He yawns and watches the doorway expectantly.
Soon Kibum appears. His face, skin dewy from moisturizer, is still tense. The hair above his forehead is damp from washing his face, and he's wearing a plain white t-shirt and soft tennis shorts.
He catches sight of Minho on the bed and widens his eyes.
"What are you doing here, little one?" he asks, walking over. He sits down on the side of the bed. The mattress sinks a little under his weight, making Minho slip a little closer. "You came to comfort me? That's so sweet."
He scratches Minho behind the ears. It feels pretty good, and Minho closes his eyes. If he gets this every time he follows Kibum to bed, then maybe he'll do it more often.
"Move your butt over," Kibum says. He pushes Minho off this pillow and slides into the bed, drawing the sheets over him.
Minho makes a new place for himself at Kibum's side.
Soon the dogs scamper in and hop onto the foot of the bed before each settling into what Minho can only assume are their usual spots.
Kibum smiles at them all. "Well, it's certainly a party in here tonight. We ready to sleep?"
They all look at him.
"Okay, then." He reaches over and snaps off the light.
The room is submerged in darkness. Minho is surprised when Kibum lifts him and places him onto his chest, then pets him. Minho's purrs rumble through the silence.
"I just have a strange feeling," Kibum says, voice soft. "Something's not right."
*
"No, I'm not his family. Well, not technically. But—"
Kibum paces around the dining room, one hand on his hip, glaring at the wall as he listens to whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying.
"Uh-huh. Yes. Yes, I understand. But he's been missing for two weeks now, and he usually texts me every day. There's no way he would go so long without—"
Kibum's face deepens to a slightly darker shade of red as he bites his lip on a frown. He looks murderous.
"No we haven't had a fight." A pause. "I think I would know if he wanted to stop being my friend." Another pause. "Yes, I know he's a grown man, what does that have to do with any—"
Kibum looks at his phone in shock. "Fuck! How dare the police hang up on me."
He throws the phone on the dining table with a loud bang that makes Minho curl his back up in surprise. CommeDes yelps.
After his visit to Minho's apartment proved fruitless, Kibum has been increasingly uneasy. The dogs have taken note, padding cautiously around him and nuzzling their furry heads against his legs or climbing into his lap whenever he's sitting down.
Minho, too, has taken to curling up against Kibum in bed at night, only climbing out of Kibum's arms for his nightly rounds of the apartment when he's safely asleep.
This, however, is the worst Minho has ever seen him.
Kibum walks over to the couch and flops down on it. Everyone follows. "I'm sorry, boys. It's just—" Kibum props his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands. "I really don't know what to do anymore."
Garçons whines.
Kibum scoops up Minho from the floor and hugs him to his chest. "Minho's family isn't taking this seriously. They said not to worry and that they'll take further steps if they haven't heard anything in another week. They think he's just holed up at some girl's apartment. According to them, 'it's not the first time.' Honestly what the hell does Minho tell them."
Kibum pets Minho a little too hard, but Minho keeps his claws in check. If Kibum needs to pet him now, he'll allow it.
"How can I make them understand that this is not normal? I miss him, kitty."
Minho meows and nuzzles against Kibum's chest. He curses the fact that his kitten mouth can't speak human words. How can he reassure Kibum that he is right here? He desperately wants to make the sadness in Kibum's voice go away.
He always did love making Kibum smile.
Kibum clutches him more tightly and raises him higher so that Minho's head is on Kibum's shoulder like a baby's. Minho clings with his front paws and gives Kibum a few comforting licks.
"I don't know, I think—" Kibum buries his face in Minho's fur. "I think maybe...my feelings for him might've been growing into something more? For a while now, honestly. And sometimes, sometimes I even thought that maybe he might feel the same."
Minho freezes. Kibum—has feelings for him?
Wants him?
For a while now, Kibum had said.
Minho's view of the entire world reconfigures itself in a moment.
He imagines an alternative future. Holding Kibum's hand. Coming to him after work for a comforting dinner together. Walking the dogs by the river. Caressing his lovely face. His warm voice in his ear at night.
Kissing him.
How had Kibum never said anything to him? Never even hinted at it. While Minho had been pining away for years, convinced that Kibum didn't want to be anything more than friends, Kibum had been wanting him back.
They could've been together.
But now. Oh no. Minho looks at his small paws with fresh despair. Now he's just this. Too late. He had squandered it all. And for what? For an assumption made too soon.
From his fear Kibum might not feel the same.
He clutches Kibum. Kibum clutches him back.
The grief will come later. For now, there's just Kibum's warm scent and the comforting feeling of being in his arms, even in this form. Kibum, who is always so confident and brave. Kibum, with his sass and aloofness, but whose center was a gooey core.
His wonderful Kibum.
"Ah, fuck, now I'm crying," says Kibum, red-faced, wiping his cheeks.
A tear escapes his attempt to wipe it away, and instead it slides down his face. It quivers on the edge of his jaw, and then it falls.
So fast Minho almost can't see it, the tear drops down onto his own fur.
A beat passes. Time slows, and Minho can hear his heart pounding in his chest and the blood rushing through his ears.
Then, all of a sudden, there's a fantastical churning within him, and he feels like he's being ripped to shreds and then reformed. Dimly, he hears his cat voice screeching in pain, and then his human one, scratchy from lack of use and now foreign to his ears.
And then he's human again, big and oversized and—horrifically—naked on Kibum's lap.
Kibum screams.
Minho is falling to the floor as Kibum pushes him off him and jumps up into a standing position on the couch, as if Minho were a giant mouse he needs to escape from.
"What the fuck!" Kibum yells. "What the actual fuck!"
The room is still spinning. Minho finds himself dizzy and disoriented. He hurts everywhere. His body feels curiously familiar but also not quite his own anymore.
It had been warm on Kibum's lap being held and petted, but now, in the absence of Kibum's arms and his own thick fur, the chill gets the better of Minho's bare skin. He shivers.
He doesn't have a chance to sit up before the dogs are on him. They yip excitedly and bathe him in kisses. Their tails wag like tiny windshield wipers on full blast.
"M—Minho?" Kibum asks, bony fingers up around his mouth.
"Meow," says Minho. "I mean, yeah, it's me."
"Oh my god." Kibum climbs down from his perch on the couch. He tentatively steps closer to Minho and prods his bare shoulder with a finger. "It's really you."
"It is," Minho says, still trying to get control of his old-new limbs.
Kibum grabs the lavender blanket from the couch and throws it at him. "Well, cover yourself up for god's sake."
"Thanks." Minho wraps the blanket around his waist. He gives the dogs a few reassuring pets to let them know he loves them, and then sets about getting to his feet.
It's difficult to stand up after so long on all fours. Thanks to the havoc the transformation wrecked on him, his body wobbles like jelly. It doesn't entirely belong to him yet. His knees buckle as he rises.
Kibum rushes to him and grabs hold of him by the biceps before he can stumble. "You never could get by without me," he says, but behind the words Minho can see he's fighting to control the tears. "What happened?"
Minho hacks a couple of times and frees his throat from some seriously scratchy hair—gross—and braces himself against Kibum.
"You remember that guy I was seeing?"
Kibum raises an eyebrow.
"Let's just say you were correct to not like him."
Minho tells him everything. Their last ill-advised date, Minho cutting it off, the shock of suddenly standing in the street in a pile of oversized clothes. How Minho had searched for Kibum's apartment and kept coming back to his door until Kibum let him in.
Kibum listens to it all with little shakes of his head, a few barbs, and even an eye roll or two, but after smacking Minho's shoulder for "worrying him so damn much," a sharp sob escapes his lips. He covers his mouth with one hand, but nothing can hide the tears slipping down his cheeks.
"Oh Minho," he gasps out. He pulls him into a fierce hug and squeezes. "I thought something terrible happened to you."
"Something terrible did happen," Minho says with a gentle laugh.
Kibum hugs him tighter. "It's not funny. You have no idea. I broke into your apartment. The others think I lost it. I was hounding your family. I even called the police. I—"
"I know, I know. But you fixed it, okay? You made everything all right again." Minho tucks his chin into Kibum's neck and finds the skin there damp with tears.
Kibum had fixed it. He'd taken him in, sheltered him, fed him, gave him affection.
And Minho hasn't forgotten what it was that transformed him back into a human being.
Minho pulls back just enough so he can see Kibum. He takes his lovely face in his hands and tilts it up toward him. He wipes the wetness from his cheeks with his thumbs. Kibum's eyelashes are dark and clumped together with tears, and his mouth forms an unhappy pout. His skin is ruddy from crying.
He's so beautiful.
Kibum gazes back at him.
"Hey," Minho says softly. He's still rubbing his thumbs over Kibum's cheeks even though there's nothing left to dry. "What you said before? About having feelings for me. Did you mean it?"
"Don't embarrass me, Minho," Kibum whispers.
Minho wouldn't dare. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to Kibum's lips. Kibum closes his eyes, so Minho tilts his face to the side and kisses him again.
A spark travels through him. He's kissing Kim Kibum. He hardly dares believe it. He's fantasized about this moment so many times, but now that it's actually happening, it doesn't seem real.
The solidity of Kibum's warm, lithe frame against him proves otherwise.
He wraps his arms around Kibum's narrow waist and pulls him in tighter as the kiss deepens. Kibum moans softly, kissing him back just as eagerly.
What starts gentle turns hungry. Minho licks further into his mouth and slides a hand down to cup Kibum's ass, rocking their hips together.
Kibum, still panting against his lips, breaks the kiss. "God, you don't have to be a beast about it."
"I am a beast though. Until five minutes ago, I was a young tiger. Rawr," Minho murmurs with a smile.
"You were no such thing. You were a baby kitten and completely defenseless without me."
"All right, yes. I am defenseless without you. I do need you. I don't mind saying so. You're lovely and wicked and soft-hearted and you might just drive me a bit crazy."
Kibum rolls his eyes. "Ugh, is there any limit to how embarrassing you are? Just shut up and kiss me again."
Minho is happy to oblige.
*
"How much stuff can one person have?" Kibum complains as Jinki lugs another box into the apartment. Jonghyun and Taemin, panting from the exertion, soon follow with more.
"I got rid of a quarter of my stuff last week," says Minho. He unloads a box of his own on top of four others. The stack wobbles, but doesn't collapse.
He goes over to where Kibum is watching from next to the bookshelf, firmly out of the way of the managed chaos. The dogs sit at his feet.
Ever since arriving at Kibum's apartment in the form of a small, grey kitten, Minho hasn't really left. At first, it was because he needed shelter and food. Now that he's human again, he stays because he can't bring himself to leave.
Not when he gets to wake up beside Kibum every morning.
Giving up his lease and moving all his things in just makes it official.
Minho slips behind Kibum and threads his arms around his waist. He hooks his chin over Kibum's shoulder. "Besides, your place is way too sparse. It looked unlived in."
"It's called minimalism. It's an aesthetic and a way of mind," Kibum says. "And you're extremely sweaty."
Minho nibbles at his ear, and Kibum cocks his head to indulge him. "But also extremely sexy?" Between the warm weather and the labor of moving, he'd long since peeled off his button-down, so that now he's only wearing a sleeveless t-shirt. He knows his muscles look good.
"Do you two mind? We're giving up our Saturday to lug these boxes up here, and you're practically putting on a show for us," says Taemin, wiping his brow with the bottom of his t-shirt. The fond smirk on his face doesn't escape Minho's attention.
"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet," Minho says. "But maybe a break is in order? I'll call for some fried chicken for lunch."
"A break would be amazing. Hyung will treat," says Jinki as he flops down onto the couch.
"Did you say fried chicken?" asks Jonghyun, instantly perking up.
"And beer. Since Minho finally agreed to move in with me," Kibum says with a smile, "we have a lot to celebrate."