||❥ the birthday song
m i n g h a o // s c e n a r i o
word count: 1,564
request: anon just wanted some minghao fluff! (me too, tf?) so as a hint, the first kiss is the purest kiss :^)
✎ had some extra time tonight to write this, i know first kiss isn’t very creative but i tried to make it rlly fluffy so hopefully it’s good!
Minghao is still timid, he is still shy in the most heart-swooning of ways. Maybe it’s because this feeling nestled deeply within his chest is unprecedented, and it brews the conviction that your face is the one he yearns to wake up to every soft and hazy morning. Where his heart pumps the spinning images of you to flicker before his eyelids, there should be more certainty with it. Yet a tenuous voice remains like the creaking of a rocking chair, whispering over the cusp of his ear that he lacks the ability to truly make you happy.
Of course, it couldn’t be more false. If anything Minghao proved to you time and time again that he was the perfect boyfriend to accompany you on the tipsy rowboat of life; his doubts were translucent, and he needn’t glaze over them for even a second.
During the bloom of your relationship, Minghao had learned many things that aided him in being the best boyfriend to grace your presence, and oh boy, did you ever latch onto him like a koala bear afterwards. It was in the manner he initiated holding hands while pattering down a busy street, when the sun would kiss the moon before they ceremoniously switched places. All from a crackle of laughter, traveling to a featherlight glide down your spine, and then the breathy chuckles that preluded his slender fingers just tenderly sweeping your palm. His grip was warm, it was intertwined and secure, but it was mostly the hue of peach that his cheeks became enveloped in. And yours too of course.
He gave the best hugs, and observing his sidled fashion of approaching you at the near dusk of a long day did nothing but bundle your heart in coziness. The goodbye’s would flutter from willow curved lips, and the batter of lashes toward the floor would quickly begin to multiply until his chin was scooting to the crown of your head, arms gingerly curving around your waist as he waited to see if you were okay with such contact, even though it were no more questionable than blowing bubbles from gum.
Immediately you would become like sap in his hold, cheek cushioned by his shoulder and arms at their rightful place by his neck. It was then he commenced in the soothing passes that hummed up and down a relaxed spine, crooning words a delicate breach in silence that always ushered of how he would miss you until your next date.
You could muse on and on for ages regarding Minghao’s nook in your heart, and as the days trickled by you could only balk one thought that didn’t take interest in resting. Your first kiss as a couple was yet to unfold. Sure there had been occasional lips pressed to cheek, the sensation of plush warmth meeting supple skin enough to imbue blatant melodies in your chest, beating quicker than the red copper swimming through your veins, but it became painfully apparent when you gleaned across him how inconceivably bad you wanted it. The kiss was haunting Minghao too, the expectation to be the perfect boyfriend grappling over his shoulders. Even more so on your beloved birthday.
“Okay, that’s the last season Minghao, you made it!” It was a blithe intoxicated chime that sliced through the episode’s ending credits, your hand shuffling from underneath the blanket to poke his fluffy cheek. The boy had slumped down on the sofa, his eyebrows jumping to a curve while an all satisfied sigh slipped from his lips.
“Be honest, is it really that bad of a show?” You unconsciously pressured, your fingertip still poking at his porcelain cheek that was more alluring than your whole visual combined. Minghao took hold of your squirmy arm and let his thumb sweep between the marble slopes of your knuckles, mustering up an answer that wouldn’t get his pretty face dented.
“Parks and Recreation isn’t that bad, I like the Ron guy the best though.” He was greeted with a quirk of strawberry scented lips, your eyes two pools of articulate appeasement that he could blink into forever. You followed his response with a hair ruffle, expressing your pleased side.
“I knew you would like him, sometimes you’re like his reincarnation.” Minghao squeezed your hand with a snicker.
“Only when Mingyu is around.”
The clock glowing in bright blue underneath the television displayed the time, 11:45pm, and you stumbled upon the sudden realisation that your birthday was fizzling to an end. Minghao seemed to be peering in the same direction as well, his brows pinched together as though he were solving a puzzle in his brain, like he was pondering something that involved the slow amble of time. Your fingers were still interlocked, a gentle thumb pad adorning the valleys sculpted from ivory bone. Then it drifted into the glide of starry eyes tentative in their path of marvelling, especially by the luminous glow that mingled with petal smooth skin and rose purified lips. Minghao was beauty’s number one beholder, and as your last birthday wish, you wondered how he would react to your request.
“Hey Hao,” you hummed in a very careful cadence, “since it’s my birthday and everything, could you maybe sing me the usual happy birthday song?” It would never be your place to push Minghao into doing something if he were ultimately against it, so if your request (and perhaps a little begging paired with sparkly orbs) resulted in denial, your birthday would still be a day to look back on, and rumble over how cherished you felt as every second flicked past. Minghao’s heart had already started swelling, his fingers that fit so perfectly with your own urging to turn clammy.
He shuffled upward on the couch, free hand pushing away locks of rumpled hazelnut. “Is that what you want, like for real?” When your head began bobbing like emerald leaves in a shallow breeze, and your cheeks squished into the widest of grins, Minghao knew the twinge in his chest wouldn’t settle until he had made you the happiest you could be.
“Okay,” he said, a degree of bashfulness controlling the manner in which his head swivelled downward, a coat of pastel pink just beginning to nip at rounded cheeks, “it’s gonna sound awful but… If it makes you happy.” You didn’t want to interrupt him as silence resembled a heavy quilt enveloping the room, his hand pulled into your lap as you soothed his slender fingers. There were indeed nerves brimming like gloss at Minghao’s eyes, but there were also hints of his adoration toward you, making the moment of his rosy lips parting and a sound so smooth and soft flowing off his tongue the most beautiful moment you could wish for.
It became all the dates spent wandering up and down speckled brick streets, the twinkle of neon blue fairy lights hanging from shop entrances and coalescing with moonlight that cascaded from obsidian skies. It became the sweet laughter that emanated from behind closed doors, when fingers poking at ribcages and peculiar phrases flying from tongue seemed like jokes crafted by a comedian. Every second of chin nuzzled into the crown of lily scented hair scorched your vision, until the boy singing one of the most well known songs transformed it into a piece that felt sketched solely for you.
And maybe that was the reason behind you bustling from your dent in the sofa, Minghao’s pupils a glittery galaxy that swarmed with miniature specks of silver and gold. The ending of the birthday song had hardly finished rippling through the silence before the constriction in your chest melted to be the itch in your fingers to trace his jaw, the coo in your heart to card the hair back from his eyes and examine their gleam. And maybe that was the reason behind you brushing your lips together for the first time, so gentle and nothing more than a feather, almost as if you were built upon paper thinner than air. But it wasn’t you who slid a not so timid hand around the nape of your neck, the smooth palm belonged to Minghao, the feelings that burst like a full fledged fireworks display in his chest crackling throughout his limbs.
The only thing he could process while slowly pushing his lower lip between yours that were so sweet and velvet like, was that he squandered too many hours not kissing you, not singeing the taste of strawberry throughout the breadth of his mind and mouth. Your hand slipped down his chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt and innocuously tugging at it upon his minor use of teeth. If your breath would stop wisping into cotton tufts than maybe you would have been able to prolong the session that sat well with silence, but to your dismay, paper lungs were not the best at keeping adoration sealed.
It was a simple peck that bloomed after the well awaited kiss, then another that was short, and another that stretched longer with a resistance to pull away. Until your foreheads couldn’t stop clashing, and the pigment that stained your cheeks glowed brighter than fuchsia, your birthday had come to an end.
“That was okay, right?”
Minghao giggled, his arm curving around your waist, “more than okay. We should do it more often, huh?”
And what a memorable way to end it.
✎ hope everyone is having a good week, REMEMBER TO TAKE YOUR VITAMINS AND STAY HYDRATED!! I REMIND YALL A LOT BUT IT’S IMPORSNT!!