Chapter Text
Is this what Seungmin means when he talks about experiencing sleep paralysis? Minho always thought the phenomenon was a myth, his best friend is known to have a penchant for dramatics.
But there's no way the creature currently sitting atop Minho's nose can be real.
It's not scary like some of the nocturnal visitors Seungmin has described.
A small thing. Harmless, probably. Though, Minho wouldn't describe the feeling that creeps down his spine as his crossed eyes meet round unblinking ones with slit pupils as a pleasant one.
Nor is he proud of the shriek that escapes him when the thing's pink tongue darts out of its mouth to swipe across the surface of one of those soulless eyes.
At least it's not sleep paralysis, Minho's half-awake brain supplies as his upper half shoots up involuntarily. Seungmin says he can't move when their old Humanites professor, Dr. Park, decides to torment him.
Another scream comes after the feeling of tiny claws skittering down Minho's bare back. Never again will he sleep without a shirt.
There's the sound of something slapping against his headboard before the cold crawling sensation is gone. Minho doesn't dare to turn and look.
When the sound continues, he sighs in relief. It's just someone knocking on his front door. The creature wasn't real after all. He should probably see a shrink if he's started hallucinating, though.
"Minho-ssi?"
That's a familiar voice.
Han Jisung. Next-door neighbor and the star of every depraved fantasy that keeps Minho up at night; fingers of one hand wrapped around his cock and the other's shoved in his mouth to muffle the moans.
The wall separating their units is disasterously thin. Jisung must have heard his screams and come to check on him.
If Minho lived on any floor other than the first, he'd brave his aversion to heights in favor of throwing himself out a window. While ignoring the knocks is an option, it's not one Minho is strong enough to commit to.
How will he know what Jisung's wearing right now if he doesn't open the door? Maybe if Minho's lucky, it'll be one of the crop tops that reveal the most tantalizing sliver of tanned skin and toned abs.
Jisung has a tattoo on the side of his sinful waist that Minho's made a little game out of. It's a word written in english, and with four short sightings he's made out the letters "D,E,N." Minho will never forgive himself if his embarassment causes him to miss the reveal of another letter.
One moment he's still sat up in bed, and the next he's opening the front door.
Unashamedly, his gaze zeros in on Jisung's waist before anywhere else. No crop top today, just a black oversized hoodie that probably belongs to Richard. Minho is proud of his capability to bite back the disappointed sigh.
But damn, does Jisung make a plain black hoodie look good.
Even if it does belong to Minho's one-sided mortal nemesis.
Admittedly, Minho hasn't talked to Jisung very much. He prefers to admire from afar, because all Jisung ever talks about is his stupid foreign boyfriend, Richard.
Seungmin says harboring so much hatred for a man he's never seen or met, is a talent only Minho could possess.
"Minho-ssi?" Jisung pauses mid-knock when the door swings open. "I heard some screaming. Are you okay?"
God, his eyes are so big and round and he's doing that thing where his legs turn inward like a newborn fawn.
Minho takes a deep breath. "Nothing to worry about, Jisung-ssi." The formality leaves a sour taste in his mouth.
Jisung-ah, jagi, baby.
Mine.
"Oh. Are you–sure?" Jisung isn't looking at Minho's face, but somewhere considerably lower. Warmth rushes to the tips of his ears. In his haste to see Jisung, Minho definitely forgot to throw a shirt on. He suddenly feels self-conscious with his naked chest exposed. "It just–it sounded pretty serious, you know? So I thought I should come check you ou–I mean! Check on you. Yeah."
Slowly pulling the door toward himself for cover, Minho leaves just enough space for his head to poke through the crack. "I was watching a horror movie." Minho silently thanks his Eomma for passing down her good looks and incredibly quick wit to him. "I'll be sure to turn it down. Sorry for the noise."
Jisung's concerned pout shifts to a devastating heart-shaped smile as he bounces on his feet. "Really? I love horror movies!" Every time he talks about something that makes him happy, Jisung's full cheeks flush pink. Minho never had a favorite color until he met Jisung. "What's your sound system? Those screams were killer. I thought it was the real deal."
Fuck. "Oh, it was a gift from a friend. Big speakers."
"Surround-sound? Atmos? How many inches?"
Atmos? Isn't that the new SHINEE album? Is SM so money hungry they've resorted to selling speakers as promo merch? More importantly, is Jisung a Shawol? It's already hard enough to hold back from showing Jisung his Body Rhythm, that's honestly the last question Minho would want an answer to.
"Yep. Eight inches." Bullshit. Not a total lie, just different context.
Jisung lets out a whistle. "Damn. Eight inches is crazy! Can I see?"
Yes. Please. Look and touch and taste. It's all yours. All Day All Night.
Minho has to bite his tongue. He doesn't even own a speaker, unless he counts the rinky dink Bluetooth shower speaker Hyunjin left at his place and never asked him to return.
"Ah, my apartment's a mess. Maybe some other time?" Now Minho's gonna have to buy an eight inch surround-sound system. How much would that even cost?
Can't be too much. The promise of being alone with Jisung is priceless anyway.
Take that, Richard.
"Skrr. You know where to find me." Jisung hits Minho with his signature lame finger guns-salute combo before turning back to his own apartment. It shouldnt make Minho want to rush out into the hallway and pin him against the wall like it does.
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It turns out an eight inch surround-sound speaker costs about eight hundred thousand won. And Atmos means multiple speakers placed in different directions (at least that's what Minho deciphered from the audiophile bros on reddit.) Definitely more than he was hoping to spend, but he can make do with kimchi fried rice as breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next few months.
Minho adds several to his cart and checks out before allowing himself to have second thoughts. Jisung deserves to watch a horror movie with realistic screams and Minho deserves to watch Jisung watch the movie. Maybe a convenient jumpscare will get Jisung and he'll ask Minho to hold him.
After shutting his phone off, Minho's almost managed to fall back asleep—now fully clothed—when Doongie decides it's a great time to yowl and scratch at the door.
Knowing that the cats were well fed only a few hours ago, Minho turns on his side and folds a pillow over his ears. Doongie will eventually tire himself out.
What he didn't consider, was both Soonie and Dori joining their brother for an impromptu post-midnight karaoke session. They're far too loud to ignore now, so Minho has no choice but to get up and investigate.
He probably left his window cracked and a moth flew in. It wouldn't be the first time.
As soon as he turns the knob, all three cats barrel into the room and jump on the bed. Minho hasn't seen Soonie move that quickly since he was a kitten, which was about fifteen years ago.
"What's up with you all tonight, hmm?" Three pairs of dilated black eyes laser-focus on the ceiling, refusing to look at Minho as he addresses them.
He follows their line of sight and nearly screams for a third time.
Hanging upside down in Minho's bedroom like a creepy ceiling-crawler ghost, is the same creature from before; very much not a hallucination.
It looks like some sort of lizard, now that the light is on and it's further away. There's nothing wrong with lizards, Minho finds them quite cool, but having one in his bedroom at four AM isn't exactly optimal. Especially with three cats wiggling their butts and chittering, ready to pounce.
His arms suffer a few deep scratches as he bravely escorts each of his brothers out, but it's a lot less damage than the lizard would inevitaby take.
Now what the hell is he supposed to do?
Call Seungmin, of course.
"What do you want?" His best friend picks up after quite a few ringbacks.
"Yah, is that how you speak to your Hyung?" Little shit.
"What do you want, Hyung?" Seungmin makes sure the honorific is dripping with sass, as always.
Instead of answering, Minho turns his camera on and points it at the lizard. "What do I do about this?"
"Why is there a lizard on your ceiling, Minho?"
"You mean to tell me you don't have one on yours?" Minho responds with an eyeroll Seungmin can't hear, but he hopes will be felt telepathically. "They're all the rage now, you know."
"So, you woke me up at this ungodly hour to flaunt your newfound interest in weird reptilian decor?" Minho deeply regrets his decision to call Seungmin. Somehow, his sarcastic nasally tone sounds even more patronizing over the phone. "I have to work in six hours, and it's gonna take me half that time to fall back asleep."
Minho also has to work in a few hours. He's definitely not sleeping anytime soon, either. "What do I do with it?"
Seungmin has always been the one person Minho knows he can count on, no matter the issue.
When Minho was still young and confused and wondering what was wrong with him, why he didn't feel anything with his girlfriends, it was Seungmin who said "Maybe it's not a girlfriend you want, but a boyfriend."
And Seungmin was right.
When Minho's first boyfriend wanted to keep that title behind closed doors, and Minho worried that he wasn't enough, wasn't loveable, it was Seungmin who said "It's not you that isn't enough, Minho. It's him."
And Seungmin was right.
Seungmin always has an answer, and he's always right.
"I don't fucking know, Hyung."
Maybe he's just not taking this as seriously as Minho is. In all honesty the situation is a little hilarious. But in a few hours, Minho will have to leave for work and if he can't figure out what to do with this lizard by then, it'll become cat food.
He looks up at the ceiling again. This isn't a normal lizard. Its body is mostly pure white with some light gray spots on the head and legs.
"Do you think it's sick?" That would be a problem. "I need your expertise. Put that veterinary science degree to good use for me, Dr. Kim."
"Minho," There's a groan and the sound of Seungmin running his hands down his face. "You have the same degree, Dr. Lee. We literally work together. In six hours."
"Not the same," Minho corrects. "The DABVP(Feline) next to my name isn't just for decoration." He worked his ass off for an extra two years for that specification. "And this, in case you couldn't tell, is not a cat." With two fingers, Minho zooms his camera so close to the lizard it blurs out of focus.
"Fine. Okay. Back it up a bit." From the clicking coming through the line Minho can tell Seungmin has his laptop open, and is furiously typing. "There's not a lot of lizards native to here, and it doesn't look like any of these." There's a short pause filled by more clacking. "I think it might be someone's pet?"
Great. Now Minho really needs to keep the cats away.
The tapping continues as Seungmin hums in thought. "Let me look up common species kept as pets. Hold your phone still."
That's becoming more difficult by the second with Minho standing on his bed, raising both arms up like he's desperately searching for another bar of service.
"Definitely not a bearded dragon or leopard gecko."
"Ah, yes. Tell me more about what it isn't." Minho huffs, tapping his screen to make sure the camera is still focused. "I could go all morning."
"And I could hang up right now, get some sleep before dealing with your snarky ass all day. There better be a large coffee on my desk at ten."
There will be if Seungmin shuts up and helps.
After a few minutes of silence, aside from frenzied clacking and a yawn on the other end, Seungmin speaks again. "Okay. I think I've got it."
"Well?"
"It looks like a crested gecko, but the ones I see on google are mostly brown. Some red."
"So it is sick, then."
A startled gasp. "Holy fucking shit. Minho, you have to find the owner and return it."
"That is the plan."
"No, I mean–" Seungmin gasps again, muttering another 'holy shit'. "The crested gecko on your ceiling is like, designer. Whoever owns this thing is stupid rich and probably very worried."
"So it's not sick?"
"Minho," Seungmin sighs. Something he does a lot, but this one sounds like there's more weight to it. "If you don't find the owner—soon—you might have a big problem. The only ones I'm seeing that are white like that–they're listed for up to five million won."
"The fuck do you mean 'listed?' Are you on some sort of black market site?" He wouldn't put it past Seungmin. "And did you say five million won?"
"No. You can just buy lizards on the internet. They ship 'em right to you." A notification bar pops up across the top of Minho's screen. It's from Seungmin. 'RTB: LILLY WHITE FEMALE. ₩2.5M SHIPPED.'
"I'm going back to bed now. Good luck with that, Hyung."
"Wai–" Before Minho can finish the word, Seungmin's already hung up.
Bastard.
𖧧🎀 𓆈 🎀 𖧧
Alright. The first thing to do is catch the gecko. Minho's a professional. He deals with squirmy cats at varying degrees of aggression almost daily. Catching a tiny lizard will be a piece of cake.
Except cats don't crawl on the ceiling.
He's gonna need a chair.
On the way to the kitchen, he pulls out his phone to google "how to keep crested gecko alive" because this Gucci quality lizard will not be dying by his hand, especially since the hand in question belongs to a licensed (feline) veterinarian.
It seems the most important factor is humidity. Crested geckos need a lot of it. Minho turns off his dehumidifier as he passes it in the hallway.
With no idea how long the gecko has been exposed to the dry air of his apartment, the best bet would be a small enclosed space with ventilation holes.
Digging through the tupperware drawer, Minho picks out a set that's devoid of permanent kimchi stains, pokes about a dozen holes in the lid with his meat thermometer and few on the sides of the bottom for good measure.
Google says damp paper towels work well for moisture, but not to use bleached ones since the chemicals can be harmful. Minho glares at his roll of stark white paper towels on the counter. Does that mean they're bleached? Fuck.
Luckily he was feeling lazy and ordered takeout for last night's dinner. There's a few brown napkins left in the bag he has yet to toss out. These should be fine, right?
If bleached paper can be harmful, does that mean tap water is bad, too?
Google says yes. Are all reptiles this high-maintenance, or just the obscenely expensive ones?
The bottled drinking water kept in his fridge would apparently be "too cold." Minho pours some into a bowl and microwaves it long enough to feel lukewarm.
After wetting and ringing out the napkins, he shoves them to the bottom of the container and pulls a chair from the dining table, dragging it behind him down the hallway.
Soonie, Doongie, and Dori are still posted up outside the door like a pride of lionesses stalking a zebra, just waiting for Minho to grant them access to the most lavish meal of their lives.
That won't do.
His arms take a few more angry scratches as the cats are herded to and temporarily barricaded in the bathroom. He'll give them extra treats as an apology after work.
Oh right, he has to wash his hands. Unscented soap only. "The chemicals can absorb through the gecko's skin and harm it." He reads aloud. In the most pretentiously mocking tone his sleep-deprived self can muster.
For fuck's sake.
What kind of millionaire masochist willingly chooses to own a pet so demanding?
Minho will never accuse his cats of being dramatic again. The three of them combined are more independent than this one little lizard.
All of the soaps at Minho's disposal are scented, but the nitrile gloves kept around for when his roots need bleaching should work well enough. He still washes his hands to be safe.
In the time Minho's spent scrambling around his apartment, the gecko decided to move from the bedroom ceiling. A quick scan of all four walls comes up lizard-free as well.
Fantastic.
"Pspsps." Minho clicks his tongue a few times, inwardly cringing as he calls for the gecko like he would a cat. His gloved hands are outstretched, holding the now humid container in his left. The plastic has grown foggy from condensation. "Here, little lizard."
He needs to find this thing. What if the owner somehow tracks Minho down and sets a bounty hunter on him for losing their already lost pet? The type of person to spend millions on a lizard would be insane enough.
"C'mon, little guy. You must be feeling so dry and thirsty."
Can lizards sense moisture? Probably not, but he opens the container anyway.
"It's nice and humid in here, you know. Like a relaxing sauna just for you."
Maybe the talking is scaring it. Sometimes, the best way to deal with a startled animal is by ignoring them, so Minho lays on the floor like a fallen log.
Not being able to distract himself with his phone makes fighting the desperately-needed sleep difficult. Minho has no idea what time it is when he finally hears some rustling coming from the bookshelf.
There you are.
Slowly, cautiously, he makes his way over with the container, careful not to make any sudden sounds or movements.
The tiny white beast stares back, as if daring Minho to come any closer. Should he set the container down and catch the gecko with his hands, or trap it underneath the cup like a spider?
Grimacing, he remembers reading about how crested geckos can detach their tails, and decides against the second option. He's been through so much tonight, and does not need to add an amputee gecko to the list if the container's rim catches its tail.
Hands it is, then.
Minho sets the open tupperware on his desk nearby, placing the lid right next to it. He holds his breath as he approaches, cupping one hand in front of the lizard and gently nudging its side with a gloved finger.
Instead of leaping onto Minho's cupped hand, the gecko uses it as a launch pad to jump up to his shoulder. Tiny claws scrape against the sensitive skin of his neck—it's not painful, but they tickle.
Minho nudges one hand under the lizard, scooping it up and slowly lowering it to the container on the desk. The gecko leaps again, but this time it's straight into the awaiting cup.
Once he has the lid safely secured, Minho allows himself to breathe again as he takes a closer look at the contained lizard.
It's kinda cute when it's not channeling something from 'The Exorcist' as it crawls across Minho's ceiling.
There's no way the cats can stay shut in the bathroom all night, so the only choice is to sacrifice sleep to guard this tiny thing with his life for the next few hours.
And what about when he leaves for work? He can't just leave it here unattended. Should he ask Jisung to watch over it?
No, he might be busy.
"Looks like you're coming to work with me, little guy."