Blasphemy - Minchan

15// You are my saviour in a devil's robe.

Minho's father's driveway was painted in shades of orange as the sun set. Feeling the warmth over his skin, Chan sat on the edge of the pavement, kicking at a rock near the curb which shot off into a bush across the road. Minho had started off sitting beside him, but he wasn't there for very long. He was pacing back and forth behind Chan, making him nervous.

"He's been gone a while, hasn't he?" Minho said, his relentless pacing up and down not pausing.

"Maybe he works late? What's his job anyway?" Chan turned around to look at the boy behind him.

"Lawyer," Minho said with a sigh as he finally dropped down beside Chan. He closed his eyes and lumped his head into his hands. "What if he doesn't even recognise me? It's been so long."

"Then you can tell him who you are."

Minho rolled his eyes, removing his head from his hands, "funny. He probably doesn't want me here though, right? I mean, if he did he would have been more involved with me growing up."

"I'm sure he wants you here," Chan said as a car turned down the road they were sat on. The lights gained the attention of both boys and Minho's head snapped up, but it drove passed them without pausing. Minho groaned, leaning his head on Chan's shoulder. "It'll be fine, Minho."

"Maybe."

Another car turned down the road. Minho didn't even look up this time. He expected it to pass by without pausing, but when it parked up outside his father's gate, he froze. Once his shock passed, he stumbled to his feet, pulling Chan up with him. The pair brushed down their clothes which had become dusty from the pavement as a man got out of the car.

Minho recognised him immediately. He didn't think he would, he hadn't seen him since he was four years old besides in photographs, but he did. His father's hair wasn't black anymore, greying and matching the colour of his stubbly facial hair and eyes instead. He'd certainly aged since Minho last saw him and he no longer wore the casual t-shirts and jogging bottoms as Minho remembered. Instead, he wore an expensive-looking suit and held a briefcase in his hands.

"Can I help you?" The man surveyed both of the teenage boys in front of him.

Minho didn't let the fact his father didn't recognise him get to him. After all, it had been many years. Instead, he plastered a smile on his face and said, "hi dad."

The man pushed his thick, black glasses up his nose and stepped closer to the pair. When he was close enough to get a proper look, surprise flickered across his face. "Minho?"

Minho nodded, both of them frozen on the spot with neither of them sure what to do next. Chan hovered beside them, arms swinging back and forth with his eyes darting all over the place. Then Minho's dad broke the awkward atmosphere with a question. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story. Would I be able to explain inside?"

"Yeah, of course," his dad nodded, digging into his jacket pocket to find his keys, "God, this is unexpected."

Minho couldn't help but chuckle as he slipped his hand into Chan's when his father wasn't looking. "You can say that again."

-

Minho's dad hurried around to tidy a few things up before Minho and Chan entered his house. He didn't do a very good job though. Beer cans fell out of his arms as he rushed them to the kitchen, an awkward chuckle leaving his lip when he returned. "Sorry about that... had a few friends around last night," he explained but neither of the boys believed him very much as they sat down on the sofa. "So, who's your friend?" His father asked as he tidied up a pile of magazines on the coffee table.