Work Text
Minho is dreaming—about nothing in particular.
In his dream, there’s the warmth of soft skin pressed against his, a sensation that brings an unconscious smile to his lips. Glimpses of brown eyes and pink lips linger in his mind—so familiar, so vivid. The faint, comforting scent of honey mingles with spice and lavender, wrapping around him like a tender embrace. It feels like he’s cradling the entire world in his arms, a peace so deep it seeps into his very bones, making him wish he could stay in this dream forever.
But something nudges his shoulder, tugging him gently from the haze.
At first, he groans, burying himself deeper into the pillows in a futile attempt to hold onto the dream. Whatever it is can surely wait.
It doesn't.
“Hyung,” a soft, familiar voice whispers, cutting through the fog, followed by another nudge, this one more insistent.
Minho’s eyes crack open reluctantly, blurry shapes sharpening into focus. A figure crouches beside him, wrapped snugly in a blanket, messy hair sticking up in every direction.
The faint scent of honey lingers in the air, grounding him as warm, sleepy eyes meet his. Seungmin’s fingers paw at the edge of the blanket, fidgeting with it in a way that makes him look even cuter. Minho can’t help but think he looks like a sleepy kitten.
“Baby? What’s wrong....” His words come out slurred, eyes still half-closed as he struggles to focus fully on him. “Is everything okay?”
Seungmin hesitates, shifting his weight as though embarrassed. His scent is warm and sweet, a soft blend of honey mingling with a hint of citrus, fresh but gentle, like a quiet morning breeze. But there’s something else— a faint edge of restlessness woven into it, a telltale sign that tugs at Minho’s instincts.
“I’m fine,” Seungmin says quietly, though the insistence in his tone betrays him. His fingers tighten on the edge of the blanket, fidgeting slightly. “But… I’m hungry.”
Minho blinks, the words sluggishly filtering through the haze of sleep. “You’re hungry?”
“Really hungry,” Seungmin clarifies, his tone turning soft and almost sheepish.
Minho reaches up, his fingers brushing softly against Seungmin’s cheek. His omega immediately leans into the touch, nuzzling his face into Minho’s palm with a contented sigh that tugs at his heart.
Minho glances over at the clock and squints through the haze of sleep. “It’s three in the morning....” he murmurs, his voice low and raspy.
The embarrassed pout that takes over Seungmin’s lips makes Minho regret his words almost immediately. He didn’t mean it like that.
“What do you want, baby?” Minho asks softly, sliding his hand up to thread through Seungmin’s hair. His fingers gently untangle a few strands, smoothing them down. “There are snacks in the kitchen.”
Seungmin shakes his head and shifts closer, lowering his voice like he’s confessing something scandalous. “I want kimchi fried rice.”
It takes Minho’s groggy brain a few extra seconds to process. He nods slowly. That’s reasonable enough.
“With strawberries,” Seungmin adds.
“…Strawberries?” Minho freezes mid-nod.
“Yes,” Seungmin replies, entirely serious, “I want…” He pauses dramatically. “Kimchi fried rice. With strawberries.”
Minho stares.
“And whipped cream,” Seungmin finishes, his eyes glimmering with a mix of hope and determination.
There’s a long silence before Minho blinks up at Seungmin, watching his wide eyes twinkle, a hopeful smile playing on his lips.
“Kimchi fried rice,” he repeats, “With strawberries. And whipped cream.”
“Yes.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” Seungmin nods seriously.
Minho stares at him for a long moment, his brain struggling to reconcile this bizarre request of his very adorable, very pregnant omega.
“Baby,” he starts, voice filled with disbelief, “that’s—”
But then Seungmin does the thing—that little pout, paired with his wide, pleading eyes—and Minho feels his resolve melt faster than cotton candy on his tongue. Seungmin takes Minho’s hand gently and places it on his belly, giving him the softest, most devastatingly pleading look.
Minho sighs, already feeling the fondness tugging at his heart. How could he ever say no to his omega? Seungmin grins in pride, triumphant, even as Minho shoots him a look for using this tactic to cutely manipulate him.
“Fine. Give me a few minutes.” Minho slides out of the blankets, his fingers lingering on the warm curve of Seungmin’s stomach. “The things I do for love,” he murmurs, his smile soft as he looks down at Seungmin.
Seungmin beams up at him, his eyes sparkling as he puckers his lips, silently demanding a kiss. Minho chuckles at his omega’s wordless command, leaning down with an indulgent smile. But just as their lips are about to meet, a tiny grey furball curled up at the foot of the bed lets out an offended
'mrowr' and swats at Minho’s arm with a tiny paw, pushing him away.
Minho freezes, pulling back with a long-suffering sigh. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters, glaring at the tiny tyrant curled near Seungmin’s leg. “I can’t even kiss him without getting smacked.”
Dori trots up from the foot of the bed, inserting himself firmly between them with authority. Seungmin looks down at him with a soft smile, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. The little tyrant leans closer, pressing his cheek to Seungmin’s and purring loudly, his tail flicking with smug satisfaction.
“He’s just protective,” Seungmin says, his voice warm as he continues to pamper their maknae. “He doesn’t like when you stress me out.”
Minho scoffs as he tugs on a shirt. “I’m not the one making unholy food requests in the middle of the night, but sure, I’m the one stressing you out.”
Seungmin gasps dramatically, clutching his blanket like Minho’s words are the ultimate betrayal. “Unholy? Kimchi fried rice is a national treasure! The strawberries and whipped cream are just—” he pauses, searching for the right words, “an artistic touch.”
“Artistic,” Minho echoes flatly, side-eyeing him as he walks toward the door.
“Yes,” Seungmin insists, all indignant, puffed-up pride. “You’ll see. It’s going to be amazing.”
Minho shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about pregnancy cravings and questionable food combinations. But as he reaches the doorway, he glances back to find Seungmin grinning at him, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Love you,” Seungmin chirps, cuddling a very smug Dori in his arms.
Minho rolls his eyes but can’t help the soft smile that tugs at his lips. “I know. I love you too.”
☆
Downstairs, the kitchen is dimly lit, Soonie and Doongie perched on the counter like twin sentinels, their orange fur glowing faintly in the moonlight. They’ve been glued to Seungmin for weeks now, following him from room to room as though guarding him and their future sibling.
Minho stands at the counter, squinting at the ingredients like they’re mocking him. Kimchi, rice, strawberries, and a can of whipped cream sit in a strange, chaotic lineup that has Soonie and Doongie watching with what Minho swears is judgment.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Minho grumbles at the cats as he begins cooking. “This isn’t my idea.”
Soonie tilts his head, tail flicking lazily, while Doongie lets out a soft meow as if agreeing with Minho’s unspoken doubts about this concoction.
Seungmin waddles into the kitchen a few moments later, blanket still draped around him like a royal cape. The kitchen is otherwise quiet, save for the faint sound of his blanket dragging along the floor as he shuffles.
Minho glances over his shoulder and smiles softly at the sight. Seungmin is wearing one of Minho’s old t-shirts, since he doesn’t fit in any of his own clothes anymore.
The faded Kuromi-themed shirt is stretched endearingly over the curve of his belly, a gift Seungmin had bought for Minho during their trip to Japan. Seungmin’s own matching treasured Pochacco t-shirt, on the other hand, is safely tucked away in his closet.
Ever since Seungmin started to show, he’s stopped wearing his own clothes, content to stretch out all of Minho’s instead.
Minho doesn’t mind, though. Seeing his omega look so adorable in his clothes makes it all worth it. There’s also the added bonus of how Seungmin always smells like him, his scent mixing with Minho’s so effortlessly, filling him with a quiet, overwhelming sense of fondness and peace.
“Come here, my prince,” Minho teases, pulling out a chair and guiding Seungmin to settle down with all the care in the world.
He can’t resist tugging Seungmin into a kiss, slow and tender, the kind that lingers like a promise. When they part, his gaze drops, softening as it lands on Seungmin’s belly. Then, as if drawn by some magnetic pull, Minho sinks to his knees in front of him. His hands rest gently on Seungmin’s thighs, thumbs tracing soothing circles over the fabric of his pajamas. Leaning forward, Minho presses fluttering kisses along the exposed curve of Seungmin’s belly, each one deliberate and filled with quiet adoration.
“Cutest thing ever, the two of you,” Minho murmurs against the soft skin, his voice warm with affection. He presses one final kiss there, earning a giggle from Seungmin that fills the kitchen with a sound so sweet it makes Minho’s chest ache.
Seungmin watches Minho with wide, eager eyes as he gets back to cooking. His scent—a perfect blend of honey and citrus—lingers in the air, warm and content, wrapping around Minho like an invisible hug. Minho’s own chest swells in response, the fondness blooming there almost overwhelming as he stirs the pan.
“It smells so good,” Seungmin says brightly, his voice soft and full of that endearing sincerity Minho loves.
“It’s just butter and onions frying,” Minho replies, but his heart swells at the way Seungmin lights up.
Seungmin slides closer, resting his head against Minho’s side. Minho leans down to kiss the top of his head without thinking, the act so natural it feels like breathing. “You’re cute, you know that?” he murmurs.
Seungmin hums happily, his scent deepening into something richer, more content. But then he pulls back, splaying his arms wide open and announces, “Scent me.”
Minho pauses mid-stir, turning to give him a look. “Right now? Seungmin, the rice will burn.”
“But I want you to,” Seungmin pouts, his lower lip jutting out in the most infuriatingly adorable way.
Minho sighs dramatically but gives in, setting the spatula aside and wrapping an arm around Seungmin’s waist. He buries his face in the crook of Seungmin’s neck, inhaling deeply. He lets his scent roll over Seungmin in waves of warm spice and comfort, and Seungmin shivers slightly, a small, contented smile tugging at his lips.
Minho gently rubs Seungmin’s back, chuckling softly when Seungmin burrows closer, nuzzling into Minho’s neck and rubbing his cheek against him. Their scents mingle in the air, a perfect blend of spice, citrus, and honey—Minho’s favorite thing in the whole world.
When Seungmin pulls back, his hair is adorably mussed, his cheeks flushed a lovely red, and his eyes glistening with dewy warmth. Minho thinks he looks breathtaking.
“You’re like a kitten,” Minho teases, though his voice is filled with so much fondness it practically drips over his lips.
Unable to resist, Minho cups Seungmin’s face in his hands and peppers his pink lips with kisses—gentle, playful, and endless.
“There,” Minho says softly, pulling back just enough to nudge Seungmin’s nose with his own. “Happy now?”
“Yes,” Seungmin replies, grinning.
“Good,” Minho says, turning back to the stove. “Now let me finish this so our baby and you don’t start a mutiny.”
Soon, the dish is ready—kimchi fried rice with halved strawberries and a dollop of whipped cream artfully placed on top. It looks bizarre, to say the least, but Seungmin claps his hands together in delight. His eyes lighting up like it’s a five-star meal.
“You’re amazing,” Seungmin declares as Minho sets the plate in front of him on the couch.
“I’m exhausted,” Minho retorts, sitting beside him, though his tone is full of affection.
Before Seungmin can dig in, Minho gently takes the spoon from him. “Let me, love,” he says, and Seungmin blinks, a faint blush dusting his cheeks before nodding.
Minho scoops up a mix of rice, strawberry, and whipped cream—grimacing slightly at the combination—and holds it up to Seungmin’s lips. “Open up, your majesty.”
Seungmin laughs, the sound light and happy, and leans forward to take the bite. His eyes close as he chews, a hum of satisfaction escaping him.
Minho watches, captivated by how happy Seungmin looks, even if the food he’s eating is borderline abominable. His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of Seungmin’s rounder cheeks, the way his scent seems to grow richer every day.
“You’re staring,” Seungmin says, his voice teasing but his eyes warm.
“Can you blame me?” Minho replies, leaning in to kiss him gently. He lingers for a moment before pulling back and pressing another kiss to Seungmin’s belly. “You’re glowing.”
Seungmin rolls his eyes but blushes faintly. Before he can retort, Dori jumps onto the couch and wedges himself between them, glaring up at Minho as if to say, ‘Don’t get too comfortable.’
“Seriously?” Minho says, pointing a finger at him. “What’s your problem, huh? I’m the reason he has food right now!”
Dori huffs and curls up against Seungmin’s side, his head resting protectively on Seungmin’s lap. Soonie and Doongie join in, jumping onto the back of the couch and nestling beside Seungmin, completely ignoring Minho.
“Traitors,” Minho mutters.
Seungmin just laughs, his hand resting on his belly as he watches the chaos around him. “They’re my babies,” he says simply.
Minho sighs but leans back, resting an arm behind Seungmin. He feeds Seungmin another bite of his bizarre midnight craving, his heart swelling with affection despite the exhaustion tugging at him.
Seungmin hums in delight as he chews, his eyes fluttering shut briefly as he savors the mix of flavors. Minho can’t help but chuckle at the sight—Seungmin’s happiness is so contagious and seeing him enjoy something so simply makes Minho smile.
“You should try some,” Seungmin says, looking up at him. “It’s really good!”
Minho scrunches his nose and gently shakes his head. “No, thanks, love.”
“Fine, more for me!” Seungmin huffs, crossing his arms and leaning back with a dramatic sigh. “Your dad clearly doesn’t have our taste buds, aegi,” he murmurs to his belly with a teasing smile.
Minho chuckles fondly, brushing a hand through Seungmin’s hair before gently scratching at the nape of his neck.
“You’re lucky your appa has me wrapped around his little finger,” he whispers to their unborn child, caressing the soft curve of Seungmin’s belly with reverence.
Seungmin’s eyes glisten, his hand instinctively cradling his belly. Minho weaves their fingers together.
“You’re so sappy,” Seungmin murmurs, though there’s no hiding the warmth in his voice.
Minho smiles, scooping another bite for Seungmin with care. “Next time,” he says softly, “maybe crave something a little more normal, like ramen or cookies.”
“No promises,” Seungmin replies with a playful grin, taking another bite. He hums in delight, his tongue poking out to lick the whipped cream off the corner of his lips.
And Minho can’t help but smile back, knowing he’d do this a hundred times over if it meant seeing Seungmin this happy.