43. Ghost: Could you do Socky ft. Myungjin? 💵💵💵💵💵🙏
ghost / socky (ft myungjin) - prompt asks over here
Sanha sometimes shivered and would then get up for bed, muttering something about, “must be a draft somewhere in this apartment.”
Sanha was really cute.
Minhyuk liked to watch him sometimes when the younger boy would put in a movie, and Minhyuk liked to watch him all the time when the younger boy would try (and miserably fail) to cook dinner.
He had brown hair and a youthful expression and a giggle that could charm even the most hardened of individuals.
Sanha was clumsy, though, and would regularly trip over his own feet, but he would laugh it off and shrug his shoulders and exclaim, “My legs are too long for my body!” Sometimes he would say it to no one, and Minhyuk would wonder who he was talking to.
Sanha was tall, and whenever his friends came over, he would tease them for their shorter statures. “When are you going to grow a few feet, Myungjun-hyung?”
“You are not a few feet taller than me, Sanha. Maybe a few centimeters-”
“More than a few,” Jinwoo would mumble, and Myungjun would smack his shoulder with a whine.
“I thought you loved me, Jinwoo!”
Jinwoo would smile softly and nuzzle his nose into Myungjun’s cheek, earning himself a delightful giggle while Sanha gagged and Minhyuk grinned.
On rare occasion, Myungjun and Jinwoo would spend the night, typically after they had a few drinks (withholding the alcohol from Sanha, of course, under the guise of, ‘you’re too young,’ and Sanha would sigh dramatically) and were too tipsy to make it home properly. Sanha never seemed to mind. He would set them up in his living room, a blanket spread out across the floor, and they would both fall asleep rather hurriedly.
Sanha would watch them as they curled in on each other, soft smiles and light whispers of names on their lips, and he would stare in jealousy.
“Ah,” he sometimes murmured when he was certain they were both fast asleep. “I wish I had someone like that.”
And Minhyuk’s heart would ache. He longed to prove his love somehow, to give him big bouquets of flowers, or fancy boxes of chocolates. He longed to sweep Sanha in a large embrace, or else profess his feelings in a field of yellow daisies.
Instead, all he could do was try to place a hand comfortingly over Sanha’s. He would blink back his tears when his hand passed right through Sanha’s body. Sanha sometimes shivered and would then get up for bed, muttering something about, “must be a draft somewhere in this apartment.”
He would leave, and Minhyuk would be left in the living room, listening to Myungjun’s light snores and wiping at shining tears as he begged to become human once again, as he begged to be released from his ghostly state of being.
No one would listen to his cries, and so he would simply watch as Sanha would wake again and laugh at the kitchen table with Jinwoo and Myungjun, and he would pretend he was there in the empty seat, holding Sanha’s hand and murmuring romantic phrases and sayings, giggling along with him when Myungjun made a silly face or when Jinwoo told a lame joke.
Instead, though, he sat on the couch and watched from afar, as he always did, as the boy he loved passed through life never once acknowledging his existence.