Match Made in Hell (MinChan)

"(n.) screwing up several things at once."

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"Minho, slow down!" Chan tried not to yell, but it seemed useless. Either Minho couldn't really hear him or he just chose not to. 

At last he gave up and let Minho drag him wherever they were headed. The sun had gone down and Chan dare not speak another protest, feeling like it could be his last. An uncharted feeling in his stomach, somewhere around fear, annoyance and 'Shit what the fuck am I gonna do'.

His arm was hurting from the way Minho's fingernails dug in his skin while he practically dragged Chan away from everyone, probably towards the back garden of the orphanage if Chan was right. He knew the second he saw Minho outside those doors watching him like a hawk that this isn't gonna end well. He was so terrified at that second he forgot to give back Minchae's sketchpad.

Finally, he felt the tug, Minho almost threw him when they reached the garden. Thanks to his regular gym, he didn't fall down and the bit of his pride was safe. He winced at the pain on his arm, but didn't dare act it because Minho looked furious.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, voice strained with anger.

"What do you mean?" It was a silly attempt of defense, Chan admits.

"Oh, don't do that shit with me." Minho spat, not looking like he enjoyed Chan's answer. "You seriously can't make this shit up! You can't say that its a stupid coincidence that you're here! out of all places and today! out of all the days in the calendar!"

Chan stayed quite, unable to form any answer.

"Did you forget Chris?" Chan's ears perked up at the name.

"We hate each other!" Minho yelled. "You hate the mere sight of me! You hate everything I do! my morals! my personality! my character! So what is all this huh!?"

"That's Chan for you." Chan replied, taking Minho aback for a second.

"Huh?" He let out. Chan sighed, eyes darting everywhere.

"You'll call me Chan." He stated.

"That's what you're focused on right now? Seriously?" Minho questioned. "How can you be so self centered all the time? Do you enjoy going to bed knowing that you're a world class asshole!?"

"I don't care what you think about me." Liar, even Chan flinched internally at his own words.

"That's right! That's how it should be!" Minho encouraged. "So what is all of this huh? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know okay!!" Chan yelled. 

"Oh, so you suddenly don't know why you're at my orphanage! You don't know why you spend the entire day here on my birthday! You don't know why you worked your ass off yesterday just to be here with a bunch of kids! To draw with them? Read them stories!?" Minho yelled one after the other, pointing at Chan aggressively. 

"Yes!" Chan yelled back. "I don't know, just like how you didn't know why you baked me a cake on my birthday! How you spent an entire day, going around the city trying to get me a present and you definitely didn't know why you wanted to be the first one to wish me that night!!"

"That's completely unrelated." Minho defended.

"Oh, how?" Chan took a step forward closing their gap. "You hate me too. I'm selfish, arrogant, obnoxious, cold hearted.. and all the other adjectives you use for me all the time."

"So why huh?" Chan took another step forward and from this distance, he could see the little garden lights reflect in Minho's eyes. "Tell me what this is about then."