#unless taemin announces a second night which he's not doing

[colorisbyshe]

oscillating between social plans or being in debilitating pain is really throwing off my "if you beat okami in handheld mode on your switch, you're allowed to maybe buy yourself a steam deck" plans

i haven't even startedddddd

[shawol9196]

For the Vows of Love: Vows of Companionship (Ch 3/5) (Het!2min; ~4.9K) AFF link

“Be kind, Lady Gwiboon. She may be in your kingdom now, but she’s still my princess. She’s only a child, and an unmarried one at that.” Yunho says sternly.

“She’s promised already and you and I both know that’s as good as married.” Gwiboon snaps back.

At the end of the week, Minjung is finally allowed to write her letter. Though she’s not surprised that she hasn’t met the 8th prince yet, Minjung has started to resent her groom-to-be. Taemin has continued visiting her everyday, with a different request of her. She doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s starting to feel friendship for the guard. Every night, she waits for the prince to do something, anything, but it’s always the same; he walks to her, touches her hair, and goes to his own bed. Another half week passes before she gets the response from her mother.

***

She’s sitting in her room, eating breakfast, when Kai comes to the door.

“Princess, you have a guest coming from your kingdom.” he announces.

Minjung lights up. “Who is it? Is it my mother?”

“No, princess. Ambassador Yunho. He’s coming in for business at the capital and wanted to check in on how you’re adjusting. He’ll be here shortly.”

Gwiboon stands from where she’s been brushing out Minjung’s hair. She goes to get her veil and once it’s adjusted, she leads Minjung outside.

“I feel like this is my first time seeing you excited, Minjung.” Gwiboon says quietly.

Minjung can’t tell if she’s being honest or reprimanding, but she doesn’t care. They make it out front at the same time that Yunho’s carriage comes in through the gate. Gwiboon tries to hold Minjung still, but the moment that Yunho finishes stepping out of his carriage she runs up to hug him. He catches her and holds her close.

“Miss me that much, princess?” He teases when she finally loosens her grip.

Minjung nods, tears forming in her eyes.

“Welcome, Ambassador Yunho,” Gwiboon says firmly, bowing.

He lets go of Minjung and bows back.

“I hope my coming hasn’t given you any trouble. I won’t be here long.” he says.

Gwiboon nods and her countenance seems to regain some pleasantness.

“I’ve brought you a letter from your mother,” Yunho says, turning back to Minjung. “She was so happy to hear from you, she’s been an anxious mess since you left.”

He reaches into the carriage and fishes out the letter from his mass of papers. She slips it into one of the pocket folds of her dress before Gwiboon can reach for it.

“How is papa and crown prince?” Minjung asks.

“They’re well, they both miss you, as we all do. The king sent some sweets for you, I’ll give them to Gwiboon to hold on to.”

“Do you have time to sit with me for a while?” Minjung asks shyly.

Yunho smiles. “For the princess, I always have time.”

They make their way to her rooms; more food is brought out for Yunho. Although it’s only been 10 days since they’ve seen each other, it feels more like a year to Minjung. Though she’s been learning to get along nicely with her new staffs and guards, nothing can quiet beat old friendship. She recounts everything that’s happened, as well as those things which haven’t happened yet, and in return, Yunho gives her advice on how to continue on. All too soon, Yunho has to leave again. Her tears are too much to hide as they walk back out and Yunho gives her a tight hug before moving to step into his carriage.

“I’ll come back to see you on my return home, if I’m allowed. Chin up, princess, you’re doing well.” he says, kissing her hand.

She pulls at him and he gives her another hug. As he pulls away, she kisses his cheek.

Gwiboon yanks her back by the tie at her waist and Minjung feels ashamed of herself, hanging her head.

“Be kind, Lady Gwiboon. She may be in your kingdom now, but she’s still my princess. She’s only a child, and an unmarried one at that.” Yunho says sternly.

“She’s promised already and you and I both know that’s as good as married.” Gwiboon snaps back.

Yunho sighs. “Be good, Minjung. I’ll come back when I can.”

Minjung can’t bring herself to bring her head up to watch his carriage leave,  watching her tears hit the soil instead. As he’s passing out, Taemin and Kai make their way in, having returned from some task. She stays still as Taemin dismounts and Gwiboon walks over to him. She can tell Gwiboon is furious, though she doesn’t even try to listen to what she’s telling him, and she feels like a fool. After she’s done, Gwiboon storms off towards the servants quarters and Kai eventually moves to follow. It’s just Minjung and Taemin now and she wishes he would go away as well. He doesn’t, however.

“Princess, would you like to go back to your garden?” he asks softly.

She nods and takes his arm when he holds it out. He walks slowly. It’s silent the whole walk, save Minjung’s sniffles and quiet sobs. When they get to the garden, Taemin takes care to remove her veil before sitting down with her on the stairs. He holds out a handkerchief for her and she wipes her face when she calms down.

“Is he angry?” she manages to ask.

“Is who angry? The prince?”

Minjung hums, tears threatening to spill over again.

“I don’t know. On one hand, he has a right to be, if you’re kissing at men besides him. On the other, if he keeps refusing to meet you, then he has no right. As long as it was a friendly gesture, I don’t think you need worry about it, princess. He may not have even seen. Gwiboon is just in a poor mood today, don’t beat yourself up for it.”

Taemin’s words are comforting and Minjung manages to put her tears away for the time being. They sit there in silence for a while.

“Princess, may I ask you a question?”

Minjung nods.

“Is the 8th prince the first that you’ve been betrothed to?”

Minjung shakes her head. “I mean, in the sense of having a marriage contract, yes. But not the first that I’ve been arranged with. When Minji left, when I was 8, there was talk of me marrying my half brother so that he could assume second in line. He’s a concubine’s child too, but my father’s only other son. Then when Minhee was sent to the north when I was 10, I was to marry my brother Minseok, the crown prince. I didn’t understand what marriage meant at those ages and was excited at the thought of being able to stay at home. When we took the east, they sent us their former crown princess for Minseok to marry. After that, there were several officials and sons of other nobility but none of them worked out. And now here I am, at 17, finally set to be married to a man who can’t even bear to meet me.”

“What does your half brother do?”

Minjung turns to look at him, then glances around.

“Can you keep a secret?” she whispers.

He glances around, then nods and scoots closer.

“Ambassador Yunho is my half brother.”

Taemin looks immensely confused. It’s endearing and Minjung finds herself laughing.

“Yunho is your brother?”

“Yes. He’s the son of my father and his favorite concubine, Lady Siwon. A lot of the nobility think that father has been too kind to him, giving him such an important title, but he’s honestly the most suited for the role. He would’ve made a good prince. When they said I was to marry Minseok instead of him, he married his long time sweetheart, a woman named Boa. They suit each other well. When the east sent Namjoo to marry Minseok, it was too late for me to marry Yunho. I mean, he could’ve taken me as his second wife if there was really no one else, but he wouldn’t have gotten the title of 2nd prince since I wasn’t the first wife. They have three children. I spent a lot of time with them after...after my womanhood ceremony. I learned how to care for children then. Everyone seemed so pleased when it came easy to me.”

“Do you like children, princess?”

Minjung looks off to a far point in the garden. “I really do, but I’m afraid to bear them.”

Taemin reaches out and holds her hand. Minjung is surprised by it and moves her hand away.

“It makes sense, princess.”

“May I...might I have some time alone? I don’t mind your presence, Taemin, but I... think I’d like some privacy for a while.”

Minjung’s worried that he’ll react badly, but he immediately stands, bows, and walks out. When she’s sure he’s gone, she calls to Sohee and asks her to not let anyone in unless she has to. She reaches into her pocket fold and pulls out her mother’s letter.

My dearest Jungie,

I’m so glad to hear that the palace you’re at is nice and that the staffs are treating you pleasantly. I remember your sister mentioning it once or twice before. She had the same disdain for the clothing. When you feel up to painting again, you must send me a few of the palace and the gardens. We all miss you so, the palace isn’t quite the same here without your laughter. The garden feels empty without you, my blooms not so lovely. I’m so happy to hear that 2nd prince has given you some of our Jiji’s things and that they’re in such good condition. Hopefully, whenever he chooses to meet you, the 8th prince treats you with the same reverence. What an odd thing, that he won’t see you. It’s his loss, not to see such a lovely flower. I’m trusting this letter and the sweets from your father to Yunho. I almost think his boys miss you most out of all of us. Please write me again soon. It soothes my heart to hear from you. It’s so sad to have my baby gone away from me. I hope to come see you soon, Yunho is supposed to find out when I can come. Be strong, my baby. I know you’re upset that you have not met your prince, but be glad that you are still alive and left to your own devices for now.

All of my love,

Your mama, Queen Kyungsil

Minjung refolds the letter and puts it back into her pocket fold. She had thought that she would cry when she read the letter, but instead she just feels peaceful. She looks around the garden and decides to at least try painting again, even if it’s just to send sketches to her mother. There’s a rustling behind her, and Minjung turns to see Sohee coming.

“Lady Gwiboon says she feels ill and will be taking her leave of you for the rest of the day. I’ll still be here for you, but she wanted you to know. Taemin would like to know if he can come back, he has a gift from the prince.”

“Oh, thank you for telling me. He may, if it pleases the prince. Could you bring me some painting supplies out as well, if it’s not too much trouble?”

Sohee nods and disappears inside. A few minutes later, two servants come out, carrying a table. They set it down and open it, revealing built in compartments for inkwells and paintbrushes. They bow and return inside and Taemin comes out with two packages.

“Are you feeling better, princess?” he asks softly, setting both presents down on the bench.

She nods as she moves down to the painting desk.

“The prince sent this for you,” he says, gesturing at the larger package. “This one is whatever Yunho sent for you. They had to check it to make sure it wasn’t anything dangerous, but Kai watched over it and says they disrupted it as little as possible.”

He hands her the package from home first. When she opens it, the sight of little flower like cakes warms her heart.

“What are those?” Taemin asks.

Minjung gasps. “You don’t have dasik here?”

Taemin shakes his head and she reaches in and breaks one in half.

“They’re little tea cakes of flour and honey. The designs are always a little bit different, they make these big presses for them in honor of special occasions. This one  was made in commemoration of my birth. Try it.”

Taemin tentatively takes the cake and takes a small bite before stuffing the rest in his mouth.

“That’s so good!” he exclaims.

She smiles, closing the lid. “I always eat too many in one go. The cooks at the main palace could make a full table of them and I would still eat all of them.”

Taemin laughs. Minjung finally sets to painting, deciding on doing the garden as a whole.

“Is today the first day you’ve painted here, princess?”

Minjung nods, loading her brush with blue.

“Shall I take my leave again?” Taemin asks, moving to stand.

“No, stay. I like it better when someone talks to me while I paint.”

He retakes his seat. “What should I talk to you about?”

“Tell me a story of the prince.”

Taemin sits back and recounts the first time he, the prince, and Kai were sent on a diplomatic mission to the south. The way the prince lost his horse in the stable, how Kai initially lost his pack and then ended up with two, the way Taemin almost accidentally poisoned himself because he was too nervous to ask for clarification. Minjung laughs for most of the tale, doing her best to faithfully recreate the garden before her. When he’s done, the sun is beginning to set and Minjung’s putting the last few touches on her painting. Taemin stands.

“Before I forget and have to bother you again, please, open the gift from the prince.”

She puts down her paintbrush and takes the package out of his hands. There’s a letter on the top, which she opens first.

Dear Princess Minjung,

I’m so sorry I continue to put our meeting off. From the way my guards describe you, I must be committing a terrible crime. I hope in the future, I’ll find the strength to go to you quickly, so that we may have some attempt at happiness.

Yours,

8th prince.

Minjung puts the letter in her pocket fold, then sets about undoing the ribbons on the package. She’s greeted by navy blue, and when she pulls it out, she realizes it’s a gown. It’s been made with fabric dyed in her kingdom with a multitude of water lilies in white and gold floss.

“The prince got permission to allow you to wear this color. It’s the only one that was approved out of all the ones you suggested. It’s still in our style, but he hopes the color pleases you more.”

“It’s gorgeous” she says.

“If it pleases you, he would like you to save it for when he finds the strength to greet you properly.”

She nods, folding it back into the box. She reaches down to her painting desk.

“Please, take these to him, as a thank you and a token of...hopeful affections.” she says, holding out the painting and one of her dasik.

Taemin takes the gifts and bows.

“I’ll take these to him now. Be well, princess.”

He starts walking out but turns around once more.

“Also, if Gwiboon didn’t tell you, 8th prince has said that anything you put into the trunks that belonged to your sister are to remain your own. That is, that we, the guards and servants, are not allowed to touch anything in them without your permission.”

Minjung nods and Taemin continues out. When Taemin leaves, Sohee comes out with the servants to bring Minjung inside. It’s weird, not having Gwiboon to fuss over things, but she’s thankful for a quiet dinner. She’s slowly getting comfortable with Sohee but conversation is still a bit awkward between them. When it’s time for her to go bed, she stores her mother’s letter and her presents in Minji’s trunk. Sohee oversees her night preparations and walks her to the bedroom. When Kai announces the prince coming in, Minjung’s hopeful that maybe the prince will say something, anything. For the 10th night, she’s left alone.

***

Over the next half week, Taemin becomes a sort of messenger between Minjung and the prince. Every afternoon, when Minjung sits down to paint, he brings a gift and a note from the prince. The notes are almost always the same, some variation of “I’m sorry today isn’t the day, but your gift was lovely.” The gifts tend to fall into one of two categories. At first, they’re all gifts meant for their first meeting: a pearl necklace, pretty perfume, a veil and ornaments for her hair. Soon, though, they turn into gifts that were seemingly suggested by Taemin: new paints and brushes, special sweets from around the kingdom, even a few paintings from the Queen. In return, Minjung sends a painting every day. She finds herself eagerly waiting each day’s gift even if she’s upset that it’s Taemin and not the prince delivering them. Gwiboon seems annoyed at the gifts and even more annoyed with her half-brother, but Minjung does her best not to let that affect her happiness.

***

When Minjung wakes, it’s just before dawn. It takes little time for her to identify the familiar pains in her belly as the cause. She does her best to find a comfortable position to lay in, doing her best not to cry. Soon though, it’s too much and tears spill over anyway. She hears the prince stirring and fears for what’s to come. He gets up and goes outside. When he comes back in, Minjung shuts her eyes; there’s a knock on her door, though she can’t tell if it’s the prince or Soojung. Either way, the prince departs and Soojung comes in before leaving again. Left alone, Minjung lets herself cry a little more. Moments later, Gwiboon comes rushing in.

“Minjung, are you alright?” she asks.

“No” Minjung croaks after a minute.

There’s whispering but Minjung’s too focused on her pain to listen to it.

“Minjung, do you think you can stand?”

Minjung shakes her head.

“You can’t stay in here if you’re bleeding. Would it be okay if Soojung carries you to another room?”

It takes a few minutes but eventually Minjung nods. Soojung lays a new blanket over her before picking her up and carrying her back down the hallway. They pass through the dressing room and into one of the back hallways, eventually reaching a dark room in what Minjung assumes must be the back of her wing. There’s a tub and a bed but not much else in the room. Soojung puts Minjung down on the floor next to the basin.

“Gwiboon will be in soon, princess.”

Before Minjung has a chance to say anything, Soojung leaves. It’s not long before Gwiboon comes. She’s got two baskets with her that she sets down before turning to Minjung.

“Can you stand now?”

Minjung shakes her head. Gwiboon sighs.

“I need your nightdress.”

“Why?”

“It has to be sent with your sheets.”

“Sent where?”

“To the palace. Queen Junghee sent strict orders that we were to send your nightdress and sheets the first night you bleed.”

Minjung goes cold.

“Why?”

“So they know that you bleed.”

“I already had a womanhood ceremony, everyone knows that I bleed.”

“But they weren’t there to see that. They want to know for themselves that you bleed. So they know that you’re old enough to bear children.”

Minjung starts crying at the mention. Gwiboon doesn’t move any closer.

“Minjung, please. I need your nightdress.”

Minjung puts her arms up, expecting Gwiboon to come pull it off like normal.

“You have to take it off, I can’t take it off for you.”

“Why not? You always take it off.”

“Oh you sweet child, they didn’t tell you, did they?”

“Tell me what?”

Gwiboon finds a stool and sits down.

“I know in your kingdom that things are different about this. That this....that bleeding is something sort of celebrated and is seen as fine. But that’s not how it is here. You have to stay in here, in this room, as long as you’re still bleeding. No one is allowed to touch you, besides a mother or sister. There’s only a few foods your allowed and only at certain times of day.”

As Gwiboon explains, Minjung does her best to remove her nightgown. She hands it to Gwiboon and it gets placed in the bigger basket. Gwiboon hands her a sheet.

“Sohee and a servant will bring in water for you to clean off with soon. You can cover yourself with this until then. Here’s a nightgown for you to wear once you’re clean. After that your food will be brought. I have to accompany these,” she explains, holding up the basket with the sheets. “I’ll be gone for a few days but Sohee will stay with you.”

***

It’s a week before Minjung is allowed to roam the grounds once more. She stops bleeding after five days, but stays bound by custom for the last two days. Gwiboon has yet to return, falling ill once more. It’s after lunch before she finally gets to go out into her garden, and she’s unsurprised to see Taemin waiting for her.

“Princess, it’s nice to see you.” he says with a bow.

“If you’re 8th prince’s top guard, why do you spend all your time in my garden?”

He laughs. ���A fair critique. As top guard, I have two tasks. To guard the prince and to do whatever he asks. This just happens to fall under the latter. Kai guards the gate, the prince can handle himself amongst the staff.”

Minjung walks further into the garden, sitting on a bench. Though she disliked wearing only shifts for a week, she still hates the kingdom’s clothing more.

“Might I ask you a question, princess.”

“I suppose, if it pleases the prince.”

“It’s not a question from the prince. It’s...it’s a question of my own.”

She looks up at him, mildly surprised. He sits next to her, though he still keeps as much of a distance as he can.

“Sohee was telling me how distressed you were at Gwiboon’s leave. I have a sister, so I know what it was for, that’s not my question. It’s just...what upset you so much about it, princess? Surely you must’ve known something like this was going to happen.”

She looks away, watching bees zip around a bush.

“It’s not the bleeding that scared me, nor the fact that she had to take...my things. It’s the implications, the after that scares me.”

“You’re scared of the king and queen knowing that you are of that age?”

“That’s how both my sisters died.” she admits, barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean? What happened to Minji?”

Minjung turns to Taemin; he’s completely confused.

“They didn’t tell you what happened to Minji?”

“No, they...they just said she was gone....that she died.”

“She died from complications of childbirth. She bled out.”

Taemin’s confusion turns to horror and Minjung feels guilty for being the one to tell him.

“That’s why m- why 2nd prince wouldn’t have children with his second wife, isn’t it?”

“Between that and the fact that he doesn’t seem to love her, yes.”

Taemin stands and begins pacing around.

“I’m sorry, Taemin.”

“No, no...don’t be sorry. I should’ve...I should’ve seen it I should’ve known.”

Minjung watches him pace around a while longer, waiting for him to say something. Eventually he turns around to face her, walking back and sitting next to her once more. He takes her hand.

“Princess...Minjung...what...forgive me for asking, but what happened to your other sister? Minji would tell us about you, she always spoke of you so fondly, but she wouldn’t talk about her at all, why?”

Minjung sighs. Though the loss of Minji was not easy to discuss, the loss of Minhee was twice as painful. She holds Taemin’s hand and does her best to steel herself.

“Minhee was sent north.”

“North as in where 2nd prince’s second wife is from?”

Minjung nods before continuing. “Our treaty with your kingdom was not as strong then. They were attacking our mutual border and so father asked for a peace treaty. She was given as part of it, sent to be married to their crown prince.”

She pauses, trying to hush the impending tears. Taemin squeezes her hand but stays silent.

“A different ambassador was sent with her, not Yunho. She and Yunho didn’t get along, though they are...were the same age. At the wedding feast, there were ceremonial foods that she had to eat. They made her sick and so she asked if...if the consummation part could be put off a day or two, so that she’d be well. The crown prince was so furious he beat her to death. They...they sent her body back to us. If it hadn’t been for Ambassador Suho accompanying her...Minhee was the prettiest, out of the three of us. There wasn’t a soul in the kingdom that would deny it. And to see her like that...We received the news about Minji the week after. It was like the world was ending. My mama wouldn’t let me out of her sight after that, she was so afraid she’d lose me too.”

Finally, tears well over and Minjung can’t help but let herself cry. Beside her, Taemin remains quiet; she can tell that he wants to help, but simply doesn’t know what to do.

“You think the 8th prince is going to kill you?” he asks after a while.

“Maybe not purposely, but the worry is still there.”

It’s silent as Minjung wipes her face and rearranges herself.

“Does the 8th prince...does he like children?”

“We’ve always joked that he’d need the right kind of wife to have children. He’s not preferential one way or the other.”

“I wish he would chose.”

“Chose what, princess?”

“If he wants me or not. I’ve been here 20 days and he hasn’t called to look upon my face once. I know...I know I’m not the prettiest wife he could’ve had and that I’m not as important or good as I could be, but at least he could address me. When I came, and I was first told that he and I would share a chamber, I was afraid. That I’d...that it’d end like Minhee. After a week, I was scared that I would end like Minji. But I’m...now I’m afraid I’ll be sent home without even knowing who I was engaged to. Or that I’ll find out I was just engaged to a ghost.”

There’s a cough behind them and Kai walks into the garden.

“Taemin, 8th prince wishes to speak with us about the convoy.”

Taemin stands, though he doesn’t let go of Minjung’s hand.

“Yes, I’ll be there momentarily.”

Kai departs again and Taemin looks down at Minjung.

“I must go, princess.”

If she didn’t know better, he almost sounded sad. She grabs at his other hand, moving so that she’s kneeling in front of him.

“Please...please don’t tell him the things I said.”

“Princess, I’m bound to the prince. If he asks, I must say. But I will do my best to limit what he hears.”

Taemin smiles softly before pulling his hands away. As Gwiboon pulls her inside for dinner, she now starts to fear what 8th prince will do with Taemin’s information. In some small way she hopes he tells, so that the he may be urged to move faster; but she more so fears the consequences.

**

Later that night, as she listens to the sound of 8th prince getting into his bed, she can’t even bring herself to be disappointed. She thinks to say something, to ask if he missed her during her week locked away. In the end, she silences herself, thinking about how nice it was to hold Taemin’s hand that afternoon.

[5hineesback]

of pianos and playstations (2/2)

A gamer is introduced to a cute musician’s Youtube channel. All the gamer does is send the musician a message, letting him know he likes his videos. After that, the gamer plans to get on with his life; he wouldn’t contact the musician again. Then he receives a reply.

i added a sequel to my 2min youtube au! you can read it below or read chapter 1 here~

read on aff

“Help me clean up, we can’t film with the room looking like this!”

It had been ten minutes since Minho had begun the task of tidying his wreck of a bedroom; straightening out items on his drawers, picking up a stray pillow which had somehow managed to find its way to the other side of the room - and how the hell did a pair of underwear end up hanging over the side of the wardrobe?

Of course, Minho knew the culprit was Lee Taemin. The boy hadn't officially moved into Minho’s apartment, but he might as well have. When Taemin didn’t have to go to college, he’d spend days at a time at Minho’s house, either working endlessly on a project or lazing around in bed all day - there was no in between. Minho loved having him around, but it was a very unfortunate occurrence for the general cleanliness of the space.

“The room isn’t even going to be in shot!” came the reply from the kitchen.

“The viewers’ eyes may not have to see this mess, but mine do,” Minho pointed out as he heard the sound of footsteps heading towards the bedroom. “Come in and help.”

When Minho looked up from his position next to bed (he was picking up one of his shirts which Taemin insisted on wearing whenever the nights got even the slightest bit cold), Taemin had appeared in the doorway, his eyes on the kneeling man.

“I can’t, I have to eat this,” Taemin said simply, gesturing to the object in his hand.

“Is that my chocolate?”

“What chocolate?”

Minho watched from the edge of the bed as his brunet boyfriend lifted the candy bar to his mouth, his own eyes narrowing suspiciously as Taemin gnawed at the corner square. He could have sworn he bought an identical bar fro himself just that morning. He’d left it on the kitchen table, planning to eat it after dinner. Unless Taemin had bought the same brand…

He quickly scolded himself internally for doubting his own judgement. Of course it was his bar, Taemin hadn’t even left the house that day.

He continued to observe his sweetheart scoffing down his own food right under his nose. “Tae, stop eating my food, how am I supposed to survive like this?”

“You should have thought about that before you agreed to date me,” Taemin grinned, approaching Minho and handing him the candy. “What’s yours is mine.”

“That is not the saying,” Minho mumbled, accepting his chocolate from Taemin and standing up. “We’re about to make a video specifically about our relationship and you’re providing me with a lot of bad things to say about you,” he teased, reaching out quickly to poke Taemin’s waist.

Taemin made a small, shocked noise at the contact and not even a second passed before he poked Minho back with a stubby finger as a weak revenge. “Well, I’ve already got bad things to say about you,” he smiled, briskly jumping onto the bed before Minho had the chance to poke him again.

Minho laughed and set the chocolate down on the drawers near the bed, before clambering onto the mattress and joining his boyfriend on the bed. The room was clean enough now, and Taemin was so cute that Minho didn’t know what to do with himself. He settled for enveloping the other in his arms and kissing the side of his head. “You’re an asshole,” he whispered into Taemin’s hair, smiling as he felt Taemin’s torso shake with a giggle.

“Shut up.”

Minho couldn’t resist kissing Taemin’s head one more time before releasing him, adjusting himself so that he and Taemin were sitting in the middle of the bed, facing the room.

“Do you have the questions?” Taemin asked, reaching forward to turn the camera on and frame the shot. Minho’s desk was usually the setting for any videos they made, but lately that had taken to reserving the desk for gaming videos, and residing to the bed for more casual ones. It was just more comfortable. The equipment was set up in front of them next to the bed, the camera facing them on a tripod and a couple of lights behind it.

“Yeah, I have them all here,” Minho confirmed, opening the Note application on his phone and finding the page he had saved the questions in.

After a few more seconds of making sure the equipment was ready to go, Taemin pressed record on the camera and sat back against the wall with his legs crossed. “Ready?”

Minho nodded and hummed in affirmation, setting his phone down on the bed for the moment. He glanced at the camera and, noticing the viewfinder was still facing them, reached over to turn it around. He’d given Taemin the excuse that he did this to make sure he didn’t watch himself while they were filming, which was half true. He couldn’t confess that having the viewfinder facing the front caused Minho to watch Taemin, he’d never hear the end of it.

One he was sure they were ready to begin, Minho cleared his throat slightly and spoke.

“Hi, guys! Today, since so many of you have been requesting this, we’re going to be doing the Boyfriend Tag. I have a list of questions we’re going to answer,” he said, holding up his phone where the questions were noted down.

“And when we’re done with that we can decide who will be eating the rest of the chocolate we bought earlier,” Taemin piped up.

“You didn’t have any part in buying the chocolate, did you?” Minho pressed, nudging Taemin’s shoulder with his own. “He didn’t buy it,” he repeated to the camera. It was important everyone knew the chocolate was his.

“Give this video a thumbs up if you think I should eat the chocolate,” Taemin said without a pause as he looked into the lens, grinning.

“This is going to be the ex-boyfriend tag in a minute,” Minho threatened playfully, receiving only an amused scoff from Taemin in response as he picked up the phone.

“Okay, so, first question. When and where did we meet?” Minho asked, looking at the boy next to him.

“Everyone knows this,” Taemin laughed, meeting Minho’s eyes. “They basically saw it happen.”

“I want to check that you remember,” Minho teased, absentmindedly running his fingertips over Taemin’s thigh.

Taemin rolled his eyes, smiling as he shuffled closer to Minho. “Well, you messaged me on Twitter. That was about… ten months ago,” he started, nodding to himself as he verbalised the time frame. “And we spoke for a couple of months. Then, I came to meet you in Seoul and that’s when you knew you’d fallen head over heels in love with me.”

Minho chuckled, trying to ignore the way his face heated up at Taemin’s statement. “You came to meet me in Seoul and I… thought you were cute.”

“You didn’t think that before, then?” Taemin asked, obviously playing up his curiosity for the camera. They’d had this conversation before, Taemin knew exactly what Minho had thought of him not only when they met in person, but before that. Of course, Minho hadn’t worked out his attraction to Taemin for a short while after their meeting, but whatever he had been feeling when they met definitely translated to a lot more than ‘cute’.

“You know I did,” Minho said shortly in response to Taemin’s question.

“I always thought you were gorgeous,” Taemin announced, slightly shyly in tone, and once again Minho refused to acknowledge the faint blush spreading throughout his cheeks as his lips tugged into a smile.

Taemin must have decided it was time to move onto the next question, because he leaned forward and picked up Minho’s phone. “Where was our first date?” he read out, sitting back. “You answer this one.”

Minho nodded, thinking back to the restaurant. “You were staying over for a couple of days at the time. I took you to dinner at an expensive restaurant downtown. Since the way we met and got together was… unconventional, I guess?… I wanted to do something more… traditional, with you. And I knew you wouldn’t say ‘no’ to food.”

“Of course not,” Taemin laughed, and Minho felt Taemin’s fingers slip in between the gaps of his own. “I had no idea what you were planning. I hadn’t brought any formal clothes with me so when you told me to get dressed, I ended up having to borrow something from your wardrobe,” he recalled, smiling. “It did shock me a bit, though. The dinner. I was expecting our first date to be… kind of casual. Especially since, well, we pretty much got together before our first date. I mean, I didn’t think you’d care about making a good impression with something romantic like that.”

Minho shook his head, playing with Taemin’s short fingers gently. It’s a wonder his boyfriend managed to play the piano so well with such small, adorable hands. “It wasn’t about that,” he murmured as he looked up at Taemin. “I wanted to make it special, something you deserve.”

Taemin was silent for a moment. Then, he leaned in, touching his lips to Minho’s in a sweet kiss. Minho returned the kiss softly, smiling as Taemin pulled away. Each kiss with his boyfriend felt like the first time.

“You’re fucking lovely,” Taemin whispered and it took all of Minho’s willpower to not claim his lips again. Instead, he simply squeezed Taemin’s hand in his own and smiled even wider.

“The date was special,” Taemin continued as he sat back in his previous position, speaking louder than he had a couple of seconds ago to ensure the microphone would pick up his words. “I’ll never forget it.”

“Neither will I,” Minho confirmed, finding it difficult to look away from his boyfriend. The whole ‘turning the viewfinder away’ thing was pointless, he’d just end up staring at Taemin in person rather than at the image of Taemin captured on screen. “I’ll never forget what happened after the date, either,” he added, smirking.

Taemin let out a short burst of laughter at Minho’s comment, which turned into a small, shy whine a he nudged Minho in complaint. “That’s not going in,” he said decisively, turning his gaze to the camera and addressing the audience. “You’re not hearing about that.”

Minho smiled, pecking Taemin’s round cheek. “You’re so cute.”

He grinned at the doable pout Taemin’s lips then formed, tearing his eyes away to pick up his phone and read out the next question. “Okay, the next one is, when and where was our first kiss?”

“Ah - it was the third time we met in person,” Taemin’s voice sounded, and Minho looked at him, seeing that the pout from a few seconds previous had since evaporated. “June twenty-seventh, exactly.”

“Yeah,” Minho nodded. “From the second time we met up, we… sort of knew we both liked each other. But it wasn’t until the third time that Taemin made the first move.”

____________________________

Minho was strolling to the train station for the third time in less than a month. Taemin was due to arrive at his platform in a matter of minutes, and despite him probably being able to find his way to Minho’s apartment by now, Minho wanted to meet him. It was so that Taemin didn’t have a chance of getting lost, but it was also because, well, Minho just loved meeting Taemin at the station, catching sight of him waiting for Minho by the exit. It always marked the beginning of the great time they would have together.

When Minho picked him up for the first time, he had no idea that his trips to the station would be so frequent. Taemin’s second visit was just over a week and a half after the first, and yet it had felt like Minho hadn’t seen him in ages. They’d spoken on Skype every day, as usual, but Minho missed the other boy. He really did. So, Taemin was invited over again for the second time, and now, for the third.

This time was different. Minho knew it was, and Taemin probably did, too. Minho didn’t see how Taemin’s third visit would come to an end without something changing. Something that had very nearly changed with the second time Minho had picked his friend up from that station exit.

Really, from the moment they had seen the comments under their gaming video on Minho’s channel, from the moment they had pointed out those comments over Skype the day after Taemin returned home for the first time, nothing had been the same. There had been something festering, just under the surface. Something that had caused Minho to look back, considering every moment he’d ever shared with Taemin, everything he had overlooked or not even realised he was even thinking about the boy. And when they had met for the second time, just a couple of weeks later, Minho knew Taemin had been going through the same thing.

Their first response to the comments that had been left under that video was to joke about them. They joked for days, possibly weeks, even in person when they were hanging out in Minho’s living room. About the ship name, about what people thought they were doing at that moment, about the hypothetical, make-believe outlandish wedding the two would share. It had got to the point where they would tease each other so often that Minho began to genuinely believe that for Taemin, that’s all it was. Joking.

But it wasn’t. At least, not for Minho. Because the more time he spent around Taemin in those few days of his second visit, the more he saw the way Taemin’s face lit up when he was happy, the more he tried to be funny and hear Taemin’s tinkling laughter, the more he realised the truth in his teasing.

If he were a braver man, he probably would have kissed Taemin when they arrived at the station at the end of his friend’s visit. There was a moment, when Taemin was looking at him, having just pulled back from a hug, when he almost did. But then they saw the time; Taemin’s train would be leaving in a matter of moments. And that was that.

So, the third visit. Maybe this would be a matter of ‘third time lucky’. Maybe he’d pluck up the courage to tell Taemin how he felt - or at least hint at it. Maybe Taemin would, too… if he felt anything comparable to what Minho did, that is.

It turned out, the concept of ‘third time lucky’ was one he could trust. He had been doubting it, until the second night of Taemin’s visit.

The pair had been watching television together - something each of them never really did when they were alone, but in the company of one another it was relaxing to just sit and divert their attention to some random drama. That was until, inevitably, one of them got unbearably bored with the episode of whoever tedious show it was.

“Do you want to watch something that’s actually good?” Taemin asked, followed by his hand reaching up to stuff some more popcorn in his mouth.

Minho would be glad to. “What did you have in mind?” he questioned, his brain racking through the types of shows and movies he knew Taemin liked. His first guess would be -

“I dunno, a horror movie?”

Bingo.

Minho was good with horror. He did not scare easily, and he took pride in that fact. But Taemin was on another level. The guy didn’t get freaked by anything. He didn’t cringe at gore, he didn’t even jump at sudden scares. During Taemin’s second visit, they’d gone to the movie theatre to check out a new Japanese horror film, and the entire time, Taemin didn’t flinch. That was scarier than anything in the film; Taemin had to have some sort of incredible talent.

Still, the genre was one of Minho’s favourites, and having the same favourite genre as someone came in handy. So, a few minutes later, they had chosen a movie from Minho’s subscription list.

“Ah, before we start… do you have a blanket?” Taemin asked. “I usually watch movies with one, it’s more comfortable.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want something to hide behind?” Minho smirked, standing up to quickly fetch one of the large blankets from his room. He knew that what he’d just said to Taemin wasn’t the case, but it was worth asking just to see the other boy pout.

Minho soon returned to the living room and sat back down, laying his blanket of choice over himself and Taemin. It was one his mother had bought him a few years ago, when he had been heading to university and she wanted to make sure he had things to keep him warm in the winter.

He smiled at the way Taemin snuggled under it, the way his pretty mouth disappeared behind the fabric, leaving only the top half of his face visible. His smile then dropped as Taemin’s hand reached back into the popcorn bowl, brushing against Minho’s own. It all seemed very cliche, but that didn’t stop Minho’s heart from embarrassingly skipping.

Minho wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but by one hour into the movie, he and Taemin were pretty much cuddled up together. They had become closer and closer as the film progressed, and Minho didn’t even realise until he felt Taemin’s cheek against his shoulder. It just felt so natural, why would he have noticed it?

He tried not to let himself react. If Taemin felt or even heard the heavy thump of his beating heart he would definitely die of humiliation. But it was difficult, and no matter how much he wished it, he couldn’t control his body.

“Minho,” came a whisper next to him, and Minho just managed to pick it up over a particularly loud moment in the movie.

When he turned his head, he came face to face with Taemin. The other was gazing at him with his large brown eyes, which looked black in the darkness, the angles and shadows of his face dancing as the light from the television bounced off his features. It seemed as if he was having some sort of inner battle, but Minho found it difficult to focus on that when he looked so… beautiful.

“What?” Minho finally answered the boy’s call of his name, but he was quiet. Hesitant. As if the scary film in the background wasn’t even playing, as if speaking too loud would make Taemin vanish.

Taemin opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, obviously having trouble finding words. He did look a bit like a goldfish, and at any other time Minho would have laughed. But not now.

Not now that a flash of decisiveness had swept across Taemin’s face, not now that Taemin was slowly leaning in, not now that Taemin’s lips were touching his and Minho felt like he was about to melt and black out and explode all at the same time.

In contrast to the intense, ridiculous way Taemin’s lips were making him feel, they themselves were soft. Just like Minho had imagined and so much more. But he couldn’t relish it, because the kiss was over just as quickly as it had begun.

Minho didn’t know when he had closed his eyes, but he found himself opening them slowly, his gaze meeting Taemin’s.

“I-,” Taemin began, and Minho stayed quiet. “Sorry- I mean- was… that okay? I just, God, you must know, right? I just-”

At that moment, Minho decided that regardless of how cute it was, Taemin’s rambling could wait.

“Yeah, I know,” he murmured simply, and encompassed Taemin’s mouth gently with his own.

_______________________

“Next question -  who said ‘I love you first…?” Minho read out the question, his fingers still playing with Taemin’s. “That was me.”

“That was you,” Taemin nodded, smiling. Taemin always smiled when thinking back to the moment he’d heard those words from Minho’s lips for the first time. “We’d been dating for about three months. You said it so suddenly, it shocked me.”

Minho chuckled. “Yeah. I shocked myself.”

________________________

Taemin realised that Minho had probably assumed that since summer break had ended, and Taemin had now entered his final year of university, that he wouldn’t be crashing at Minho’s place so often. He probably thought that Taemin would stay in his own place to work on his projects quietly. Taemin gladly proved him wrong, though.

It wasn’t just that Taemin liked being around Minho. It was that he genuinely felt like he could work better there. His own apartment was too quiet, even when Taemin’s work included the soft melody of piano keys. And, despite Taemin being a hard-working person, he couldn’t get his mind off how empty the place felt whenever he tried to sit down and get something done.

So, he took to occupying Minho’s bedroom when he could, making use of his boyfriend’s cheap keyboard. He had made sure Minho didn’t mind; in response to asking, Minho had told him that he really liked it when Taemin worked at his apartment. That when the tune of Taemin’s compositions drifted throughout the house, it filled Minho with comfort, knowing he had Taemin so close.

Taemin didn’t always get the keyboard out when he worked at Minho’s place. Sometimes he’d be writing an essay, or studying for an exam. Sometimes Minho would be chatting with his friends online, or editing a video. They’d go for hours without exchanging a word. They didn’t feel the need to, just being together in the same space was enough.

Minho would sometimes stop what he was doing and he’d watch Taemin play music. Taemin had noticed it a few times, but he didn’t know the true number of instances that Minho would look up from his phone or laptop, simply laying his eyes on the boy across the room. The first few times Taemin had caught him, he’d become slightly embarrassed. Being stared at when you’re partaking in something you’re passionate about could induce nerves in anyone, probably. But around the two month mark of their relationship, Tamein had overcome whatever self-consciousness had consumed him those times before. Now, he was happy to let Minho watch him play and work.

On this particular day, Taemin had been working in Minho’s room for almost nine hours straight. When he got into the zone, he had trouble even remembering to eat, so he had been surprised when Minho called his name around lunch time, and had walked into the kitchen to see that Minho had prepared lunch for him before he had to head off to work.

Taemin quickly scoffed down the kimbap before getting back to the keyboard, determined to make more progress on his assignments. It wasn’t that he was behind in his work, it was that he didn’t see his work as good enough. He could always make it better, and he would always try. Plus, he had his first deadline of the college year soon, and he had to get off to a good start.

Eventually, though, he did begin to lose the will to go on, and therefore decided that he could take a short break. Minho wasn’t home from work yet, he wouldn’t be for a couple of hours, so Taemin would have to entertain himself.

He filmed a couple of minutes for his weekly vlog, which had been put on the back burner for the last few days, and then climbed onto Minho’s bed, laying on his back as he pulled out his phone. Jisun was probably awake now, Taemin thought; it would be mid-morning in Paris.

The two exchanged a good few texts back and forth, talking about their days. Jisun asked how Minho had been lately. He and Chansung had both returned to South Korea for the summer break, and the two of them, along with Taemin’s other close friends, had met Minho for the first time. Thet had known of him after Taemin had shown them his Youtube channel, but it was great to have them all meet in person. Taemin’s friends adored Minho, so much so that they even joked about meeting up with him without Taemin’s presence.

After a while, Jisun announced that he had to get to class. Taemin was honestly grateful, because for the last few minutes he had been fighting off sleep. Working so diligently for days on end really took it out of him, and he decided as he rolled over and faced the wall that he could get a bit of rest before Minho arrived home…

Taemin felt the mattress shift underneath him, stirring him out of sleep.

“Hey, baby,” came a gentle voice from behind him, only just registering in Taemin’s ears. Had it really been two hours already?

Taemin moaned almost inaudibly in response, reluctant to pull himself out of his drowsy state. He just wanted to nap longer.

Minho seemed to get the memo, because Taemin didn’t hear any further speech from him. He simply felt an arm around his waist, a chest against his back, and a small kiss on the base of his neck just above the hem of his shirt. Then, he drifted off into slumber once more.

This time, Taemin awoke feeling a lot more refreshed. His lethargy has disappeared and he was grateful to himself for allowing a break from working. He could still feel Minho behind him, and judging from his breathing, it sounded like he was asleep.

Taemin turned over slowly in Minho’s arms, being careful not to wake the other boy. He was unsuccessful in this, his action only drawing out a small shuffle from Minho, his arm tightening around him. Taemin smiled to himself, moving his arm up to run his fingertips carefully over Minho’s clothed shoulder blade. Taemin wasn’t much of a cuddler most nights, as he’d let Minho find out. He needed his space to sleep through the night comfortably. But the tables were turned during daytime naps and lazy hours just relaxing in bed. He loved being close to his boyfriend more than anything in those times, watching the other’s peaceful expression and just holding him, making sure he was actually real. Taemin didn’t see how he was going to be able to continue to work at all for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t too long before Taemin felt Minho begin to wake up. His eyelashes began to flutter as he nuzzled the pillow, and Taemin thought he looked fucking heavenly.

“Taem…” Minho whispered softly, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric of the pillow case as he pulled Taemin against him. He was obviously still half asleep.

Taemin chuckled lightly, leaning in to press a kiss against his boyfriend’s forehead. “I’m here.” He spoke just as quietly as Minho had, not wanting to interrupt the atmosphere.

Minho hummed, his eyes remaining closed as he shifted forward, burying his face in the crook of Taemin’s neck. “I love you…”

What did he just-? Taemin let out a small, inadvertent gasp as Minho’s words registered in his brain, and a bright smile spread across his features.

Then, he felt Minho’s heartbeat pick up against his own chest. He must have just realised what he said to Taemin. It must have been an accident, just words muttered in his sleepy state that became an uninhibited reveal of the truth. Because Taemin had wanted to say those words to Minho… he had for a while now. But there was always the niggling thought that it was too soon, that Minho wouldn’t feel as deeply.

Minho might have thought the same thing, because he was still frozen against Taemin, no words having left his mouth since his confession.

Shit, no words at all had been spoken since the confession. Taemin hadn’t replied yet.

And he wouldn’t. Not until he could look into Minho’s eyes as he spoke.

He found it difficult to meet Minho’s eyes, the other boy wasn’t cooperating. It was like he didn’t want Taemin to look at him.

“Babe,” Taemin whispered, placing his index finger under his boyfriend’s chin and delicately tilting his face up towards his own. Minho’s cheeks were pink and Taemin caught sight of his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed nervously. “Look at me.”

After a moment, Minho finally did as he said, and Taemin spoke quickly before Minho had the chance to look away again.

“I love you, too.”

Taemin watched as Minho’s eyes lit up brightly, sparkling in an almost cartoon-like way as he mirrored Taemin’s smile.

“You do?”

“I do.”

_______________________

“When’s my birthday?” Taemin asked, reading out the next question on the list. “Yours is December 9th, it was only a couple of months ago. I remember because it was the day after my second university hand in of the year.”

“That’s why you remember?” Taemin turned to Minho to see him looking at him with raised eyebrows. “Where does actually caring about my birthday come on that list of reasons why you remember?” his boyfriend continued, and Taemin had to let out a short laugh.

“It’s the second reason, promise,” Taemin grinned cheekily. “So, when’s mine?”

“I don’t know,” Minho murmured, shrugging. “Some time in July? August?”

“Huh?” Taemin’s face fell; he was genuinely surprised at Minho’s answer. “You don’t know?”

Minho hummed. “It wasn’t long after we got together, so… August 3rd?”

Taemin frowned, unable to work out if Minho was being genuine. He was a good actor, but it was hard to tell. Maybe he really didn’t know.

“No,” Taemin mumbled quietly, slowly removing his hand from Minho’s and crossing his arms. “That’s not it.”

“Ah… July 30th?”

Taemin shook his head, looking down at his lap. “Never mind.”

Suddenly, Minho’s entire demeanour changed, and Taemin felt arms wrap around him, pulling him against the other boy.

“Taeminnie, you’re so cute!” Minho exclaimed happily, holding him close as Taemin sat there in surprise. “Of course I know! It’s July 18th.”

So… he had been tricking him. Asshole.

“Fuck off,” Taemin replied, pouting. “I bet you just remembered now.” He knew that probably wasn’t true, but that didn’t stop him saying it.

“Or maybe I wanted revenge for the way you disrespected my own birthday just now,” Minho smiled, pulling back to look at him. He sure sounded like he was telling the truth. “Am I forgiven?”

Taemin shrugged, and he was sure that the small pout was still on his face. “I guess. By the way, the second reason I knew it was your birthday was actually because Facebook told me,” he lied, pecking Minho’s lips quickly and sitting up straight again.

“Even though you wished me a happy birthday before you checked your phone that day?” Minho questioned, wrapping his arm around Taemin’s shoulders.

“You don’t know when I check my phone. I can be stealthy,” Taemin answered, a small smirk on his lips.

Minho rolled his eyes, smiling softly. “Okay, James Bond,” he teased, picking up his phone and taking another look at the questions. “What eye colour do you wish I had?”

“I… don’t?” Taemin said slowly, looking at Minho. “I mean, I love your eye colour. Green eyes are cool, I guess, but… your eyes are warm. And pretty. I wouldn’t want to change them.”

“I wouldn’t change your eyes, either,” Minho stated, gazing back at Taemin. “Your eyes are beautiful.”

Taemin was sure his cheeks flushed a little at Minho’s compliment. “But… do people really answer that question any other way? Surely everyone likes their partner’s eyes.”

“You’re right,” Minho nodded. “It’s a pretty pointless question. The next one is… what annoys you the most about me?” he read. “This one is less pointless.”

“Ah,” Taemin smiled, and let out a soft hum as he thought. There really weren’t many things he disliked about Minho…

“Should I go first?”

“Do you have something in mind?”

Minho laughed. “Well… you never help me clean up. Like this afternoon. You tidy up one candy wrapper, or put one book away, and then you’re done.”

Taemin couldn’t argue with that, he knew it was true. But he’d try. “I clean up in my own time, you nagging me about it just makes me not want to do it. Anyway, I live alone. My apartment is clean.”

“Your apartment is okay at the best of times,” Minho countered. “And that’s probably because I clean it whenever I’m there.”

Alright, that was probably true, too. “Fine, you got me. My turn.”

“Eager?”

“Of course.”

“Go on, then.”

“Well… you’re so competitive,” Taemin began. “About everything. And I’m pretty competitive too, but… I swear yesterday you were trying to see who could finish breakfast the fastest,” he explained with a small chuckle, reaching up to hold the hand of Minho’s arm which had been flung over his shoulders. He linked their fingers together, looking at his boyfriend.

“Hey, I just eat quickly,” Minho argued, his lips turned up at the conners in a tiny smile. “You really don’t like that about me?”

“It’s endearing, sometimes,” Taemin shrugged. “Actually, a lot of the time it makes you a great boyfriend… because you always want to treat me better than anyone else. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get annoyed by it sometimes,” he said truthfully. “But it makes you… well, you… so I still love it about you.”

He watched Minho nod slowly, and squeezed his hand for good measure. He didn’t think Minho would get offended by what he’d said, and was relieved to be proved right when Minho smiled.

“And how does my competitiveness fare… in other times?” he asked, and just by the look on his face Taemin knew exactly what he meant. Yes, Minho had told him, and shown him, that he wanted to make sure he… exceeded Taemin’s previous experiences, not that he had many to begin with. And yes, they were in somewhat of an unspoken contest with each other on who could last the longest, and often Taemin would lose twice.

“Those times are why I haven’t dumped you yet,” Taemin teased, nuzzling his nose against Minho’s.

“Oh, really?” Minho murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he spoke. “I suppose I’ll have to keep it up, then,” he continued, and Taemin watched as Minho’s gaze dropped to his lips.

“I suppose,” Taemin echoed in a whisper, losing himself in Minho as he brought their lips together.

The kiss became more heated than Taemin had anticipated, and it crossed his mind, as Minho shifted Taemin onto his lip, that they would have some pretty heavy editing to do.

___________________

“I’m sitting in front of the TV,” Minho read. “What’s on the screen?”

“Ah, sports,” Taemin said quickly. “Action films. Sometimes anime. But mainly sports. Especially soccer and basketball, which won’t come as a surprise to any of you.”

“Yeah. But, I don’t watch anime alone too often. We mostly watch it together, when I get home from work or when we’re eating dinner,” Minho elaborated, while trying to think of what else Taemin liked to watch. “You don’t really watch TV other than anime. I can’t think of a drama you like, or a variety show. You don’t really watch sports, either.”

“Mm,” Taemin nodded. “I like playing sports but I don’t like watching them. I’ll watch TV if I’m bored but there’s nothing I’d purposefully tune in to see. I like a lot of anime, but I watch most of it online.”

Minho chuckled to himself as sparse memories returned to him, reminding him of the times he’d come home late from work and find Taemin watching anime. His shift pattern was irregular to say the least, meaning he sometimes didn’t get home until one or two in the morning. “You watch it in bed, sometimes. And I’d enter the bedroom to find you asleep with the laptop resting on your chest with an episode still playing.”

“Well, I try to wait up for you,” Taemin replied, a tiny pout appearing as he turned to look at Minho. “But it never works.”

“It’s still very sweet, though,” Minho smiled, pecking Taemin’s lips. “It reminds me of when you fall asleep on Skype during the nights we’re apart.”

Minho really liked those nights. The nights when he and Tae were in their own apartments and they spent at least half an hour talking on Skype before they slept. Although it was nothing compared to being together, and Minho always missed his boyfriend so much, there was a lot Minho adored about it, too. Minho would usually be at his desk, while Taemin would be laying down, his laptop on the pillow next to him. Their conversations would die down as the night wore on and eventually they’d be left in a comfortable silence, where Minho could act like he was paying attention to another browser tab rather than letting Taemin know he wasn’t taking his eyes off him. Taemin got embarrassed when Minho would watch him so intently in person. He didn’t mind letting Minho watch him work anymore, but in more vulnerable moments, he’d catch Minho looking and would do something cute, like turn away or cover his face with his hands. By just being on Skype, Minho could watch Taemin get sleepier and sleepier on camera as they conversed in short sentences, hearing his speech quieten and seeing his gorgeous brown eyes flutter shut. And Minho would just look at him, much like he would if Taemin were physically in bed in front of him, his heart filling with warmth as he’d gaze at the most beautiful boy in the universe.

“I always fall asleep first,” Taemin said, bringing Minho’s focus back to the room as he picked up the phone again.

“What’s my favourite and least favourite food?”

Minho scoffed, extremely confident in the answer he was about to give to Taemin’s question. “Steak. Obviously.”

“I eat steak almost every day,” Taemin confirmed. “And rice. If I don’t eat rice I feel like I haven’t eaten. But… yeah, steak is my favourite. Your favourite food is ramen,” he said, looking at Minho.

Minho nodded. “Which is useful, since we like to cook for each other, and it’s the one meal Taemin is… almost capable of.”

“I’m perfectly capable,” Taemin insisted. “Especially since you eat it so often, I now know exactly which ingredients you like.”

“At least you’re no longer adding milk and honey to the mix,” Minho laughed, reaching up to fix a few messy strands of Taemin’s dark hair. “That meal was interesting.”

“I still stand by my statement that it wasn’t that bad,” his boyfriend replied, shrugging. “I just wouldn’t make it again… what was the other part of the question? Your least favourite food?”

Minho hummed in affirmation. This was easy, too. “You hate carrots and cucumbers. You refuse to eat a dish if those two ingredients have any part in it.”

“They’re gross,” Taemin murmured, scrunching his nose momentarily in apparent disgust. “But you… I’m trying to think of a food you dislike… I don’t think there is one.”

“Yeah, there isn’t any food I hate,” Minho said thoughtfully, racking his brain. He’d honestly eat anything, he wasn’t picky at all. “I just don’t like certain combinations. Like honey and milk.”

____________________

“This one should be easy,” Taemin smirked, scanning his eyes over the phone screen. “What’s one thing I’m good at?”

“I know you’re kidding, but it really is easy,” Minho answered. “Nothing.”

Taemin smiled at his boyfriend’s teasing, reaching up to hit his upper arm which turned out as more of a caress. “Asshole.”

“Okay, okay. You’re an amazing pianist, obviously. Your singing is angelic even though you never let anyone except me hear it. You’re good at working so, so hard at everything you do,” Minho listed without a pause, planning to continue.

“One thing,” Taemin cut him off, his voice coming out soft and small. He didn’t mean it, but it was the tone he always used when he was bashful. Minho complimented him a lot, it seemed he couldn’t do a day without it, but Taemin never got used to it. And… he wasn’t as vocal about his own feelings on a daily basis. About how incredible he thought Minho was. Sometimes he felt like Minho deserved more.

He heard Minho laugh quietly from beside him, and felt his boyfriend take his hand again. “Okay. Your turn.”

Taemin tried to pick between all the options swimming around inside his head, glancing at the camera as he did so. Despite the fact that he had been quite open so far during the video filming, the fact still stood that Taemin was a private person. He got embarrassed bearing his true feelings to anyone, especially thousands of strangers over the internet.

“You’re…” he started, trying to work out how to say what he wanted to say. “You’re good at being selfless. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, and the most supportive,” he continued, looking down at his own lap. “I don’t understand how you can put everyone before yourself. I can’t really do that. But it’s inspiring. You’re… you make me want to be a better person. You’re good at that.”

God knows what the viewers would think of that. That wasn’t entertaining. That was just raw sincerity, and not very upbeat sincerity at that.

“It’s good to put yourself first when you need to,” Minho insisted. “Anyway you put the people you care about first all the time. Like when I’ve had a bad day at work, and you have college assignments to finish, but you spend the evening with me even when I tell you your work is more important. Or that time you were here and you found out one of your friends had broken up with their girlfriend, and you went to catch a train to see him straight away,” he said, squeezing Taemin’s hand gently. “So, about you wanting to be a better person, you’re already the best person I know. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t love you so much.”

At that moment, Taemin got the urge to just stop the camera recording and throw himself on Minho, to wrap his arms around him and hug him for hours, to show him even a tiny percentage of how much he adored hm.

So, that’s what he did. The ‘hours’ thing didn’t exactly come to fruition, but it was a good fifteen minutes before the record button was pressed again.

When the button was finally pressed, the pair decided to just move onto the next uestion. Minho took a look, reading it out. “What’s one thing I’m bad at?”

Taemin thought for a moment, deciding quickly to not go as keep as he had with his previous answer. “Well… you can’t draw to save your life. I’m not that great myself, but you’re on another level,” he smiled, thinking back to the time he’d played Pictionary with Minho. Taemin didn’t manage to get a single correct answer, and it was definitely down to Minho’s drawing skills. Or lack thereof.

“Maybe I just let you think I’m bad,” Minho suggested, but Taemin wasn’t having it.

“Like you could bear anyone thinking you’re bad at something you’re actually good at.”

“… You win.”

“Of course,” Taemin grinned. “What am I bad at?”

“I could go for cooking, the obvious answer,” Minho said thoughtfully. “Although, you are improving lately… oh. You’re bad at keeping your clothes on at night.”

Ah.

“That’s not any sort of euphemism,” Minho continued to the camera. “I’ll wake up to him literally undressing himself in his sleep,” he laughed. “There’s no point in you even wearing clothes,” he said, looking at Taemin. “But you still insist on finding that shirt of mine you love to sleep in every night.”

“It’s not my fault!” Taemin replied. “I don’t know what I’m doing when I’m asleep. I’m unconsciously bad at staying dressed, you’re consciously bad at drawing.”

“Hey, just because it’s something you’re bad at, doesn’t mean I’m complaining,” Minho smirked.

“Literally fuck off.”

“Next question,” Minho sang, obviously ignoring Taemin’s response as he looked over the list. “Which sports do I like?”

“I could write a list twelve pages long.”

“Narrow it down.”

“Well,” Taemin lifted his hand, beginning to count off his fingers. “Soccer, basketball, you’ve become interested in golf recently, of all things… baseball, swimming, you love watching figure skating, you tried using my skateboard once but that didn’t go well… those are all I can be bothered to list right now,” he finished. “But I’ll get working on that list.”

“I can’t wait,” Minho laughed before continuing. “Like we said before, you like playing video games about sports but you don’t actually play the sports yourself. You like skateboarding… and billiards, although I don’t see that as a sport-”

“It is a sport.”

“-and I think that’s it.”

“Billiards are valid. You don’t deserve them.”

“I don’t want them.”

“That’s because I always win,” Taemin pointed out. He was quite sure that Minho would be much quicker to call billiards a sport if the latter was usually victorious in the game.

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Sure it hasn’t, babe,” Taemin smirked, once again taking the phone from his boyfriend before he could retaliate. “What film always makes me cry?” he read out, letting out a short chuckle as he did. This answer would probably be quite challenging for Minho.

As he thought, when he turned to look at the other man, he seemed to be deep in thought, trying to think of a response.

“You never cry at films… you answer first, I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Okay,” Taemin hummed, scanning through his memories of Minho shedding tears in front of a television screen. Sometimes it happened when his favourite soccer team lost. But films…

“You cry at romantic films. Which is strange, because you don’t even like them that much, and neither do I. But on the off chance we’ve happened to watch a romantic film together, you’re always crying at the end. Even when it isn’t sad,” Taemin recalled, nodding to himself slightly as he spoke.

“You’re right… even though I don’t like watching them often, they warm my heart,” Minho replied, which made Taemin smile. Minho was such a hopeless romantic. No one would have expected him to cry at films like that. Taemin would have been shocked, too. But by the first time they’d watched a romantic movie together, Taemin already knew Minho pretty well. He had a tough exterior, but an absolute heart of gold and incredible empathy. And romance films just brought it all out. Minho used tried to physically hide the fact that tears were falling in a slow stream down his face, by angling himself away from his boyfriend slightly, or keeping as silent as he could, but Taemin could tell just by his breathing. Anyway, Minho let himself cry at those films freely in front of Taemin after a while. Taemin didn’t tease him about it, apart from to tell him how adorable he was.

As for Taemin himself, he could appreciate a romantic film, but he never became invested in them. He thought they were cliche and boring. He’d almost been brought to tears by thoughtful and impossibly sweet actions from Minho in their own relationship… but romance movies? He just couldn’t get with them.

“Have you thought of an answer for me, yet?” Taemin asked. He wondered if Minho would think of the same answer that had just popped up in his own head.

After a couple more seconds, Minho nodded. “I know! It does take a lot, but you sometimes cry at sad animes. Like, really sad, where the character’s entire family dies or something.”

Taemin nodded, Minho having voiced his own thoughts. “Well, who could possibly not cry at that?”

“Oh, and you cry in any film, any time a dog dies,” Minho added. Ah, Taemin had forgotten about that.

“You do, too,” Taemin said. “And like I said, who could possibly not cry at that?”

“Tell us in the comments if you don’t cry when dogs die in films,” Minho said to the camera, unlocking his phone again to read the next question.

“And then tell us what the hell is wrong with you,” Taemin muttered just before Minho spoke again.

“What am I deathly afraid of?”

“Losing a competition?”

“No.”

“I’m out of ideas,” Taemin let out a dramatic fake sigh. “What’s the answer?”

“I…” Minho hesitated. “The serious, truthful answer is losing the people I love. Losing you.”

Taemin felt his lips flicker into a small smile. He shuffled closer to Minho, kissing his cheek. “Me, too. I can’t even think about it.”

Minho turned towards Taemin, resting his forehead against his boyfriend’s.

Taemin closed his eyes, nuzzling Minho’s nose with his own. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Minho whispered, leaning in to touch his lips to Taemin’s.

It was difficult to pinpoint what kind of kiss it was. A kiss of gratitude towards each other for their love, a kiss of uncertainty about a future no one could know, a kiss of assurance that they wouldn’t leave each other’s side for as long as life would let them? Probably a mixture of all three and more.

“So,” Taemin whispered when their lips separated. “I suppose I just gave my answer.”

“I can think of another,” Minho smiled, running his hand through Taemin’s hair as he sat back.

“Okay,” Taemin grinned, returning to his previous position from a minute ago. “What am I deathly afraid of?”

“Bugs,” Minho answered quickly. “Any sort of bugs. Even butterflies.”

“Have you ever seen a butterfly’s body up close?” Taemin asked. “Fucking disgusting.”

“You’re weird.”

“I’m the only one who isn’t fooled by their ‘pretty wings’,” Taemin countered. “All bugs are horrible and I’ll never understand why God created them. They’re gross.”

“Well, they’re important,” Minho pointed out, amused at Taemin’s attitude. “For the ecosystem and the food chain.”

“Fuck that. A bug almost killed me once.”

“You mean that time you almost knocked your keyboard onto your feet when a bluebottle fly flew near your face?”

_________________________

“It’s too hot,” Taemin heard Minho mumble behind him as he worked on a new piano cover, his keyboard protruding slightly on the small desk. He always liked working on covers, although all he really wanted to do now was go and sit in front of an open refrigerator, or at least dump a load of cold water on himself.

They were over at Taemin’s apartment for once. Minho didn’t like Taemin to be the one travelling all the time, even though they preferred being in Seoul. So, Minho would rarely spend a weekend at Taemin’s place. This particular weekend, it was the hottest day of the year so far, and Taemin was absolutely dying.

The only saving grace of the whole situation was that in sweltering times like these, Minho was accustomed to walking around the house with his shirt off. Not that Taemin could take advantage of it. The suffocating heat saw to that.

“No shit,” he murmured in response to Minho’s statement, writing down a couple of music notes on a sheep of paper in front of him as he pushed his sweaty fringe out of his eyes. “I feel like I’m going to mel-”

He paused as he registered a faint buzzing sound in the room, which he recognised immediately to be a fly. He swivelled around in his chair quickly as he tried to locate the bug, wanting to make sure it came absolutely nowhere near him.

“What are you doing?” Minho asked as he looked up at Taemin from his phone, but Taemin ignored him, focused only on the buzzing.

Then, he caught sight of it. The small black bug was flying near the open window at the other end of the room. Okay… maybe it would fly out.

It did.

And then flew straight back in again.

Minho had followed Taemin’s gaze by this point, and he let out an “ah” when he obviously realised what Taemin had been so fixated on.

“Make it get the fuck out,” Taemin said, his eyes darting around the room as they followed the tiny creature.

“It’ll leave by itself.”

“Like fuck it will,” he replied, and made the mistake of glancing at Minho for a second. When he returned his eyes to their previous position, the buzzing could still be heard but… where had the fly gone?

Taemin looked around, panicked and quite ready to just get up and leave the room until it had flown out for good. He couldn’t see it anywhere…

Suddenly, the buzzing was right in his ear, and Taemin saw a small black mass fly two inches from his face.

His heart jumped with terror and he let out a yelp, standing up from his seat so quickly that his right hand knocked the underside of the keyboard overhanging the desk, causing the whole thing to be knocked violently out of place. Not that he noticed; he was too busy shaking his head and ducking down, making sure the bug hadn’t touched him. Fuck this, he wasn’t staying here.

He moved quickly to vacate the room, and the moment he did, the keyboard came crashing onto the floor from its new lack of desk support. It just narrowly missed Taemin’s bare toes, and he yelped again as he jumped back in shock.

“Oh my God,” came Minho’s voice from the bed. “What the hell just happened?”

“You deal with that bug,” Taemin told him, quickly picking up his keyboard again and balancing it on the desk. With that, he left the room, making sure to close the door behind him so the fly couldn’t reach him.

“You need a bigger desk,” he heard as the door closed.

______________________

What’s the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning?” Taemin asked.

“You check your phone, I think. You’re usually awake before me,” Minho answered. “Even though you manage to stay in bed longer than me.”

“Just because you get up as soon as you wake up,” Taemin pouted, sounding a little miffed. “That’s the first thing you do.”

Minho knew that despite the fact that Taemin preferred personal space during sleep, he always liked cuddling in the mornings. Maybe to make up for the lack of contact during the night. He would often wake Minho up by pressing against him, enveloping him in his arms. But Minho was never a bed-lingerer. They’d snuggle for bit, share a few words of pillow talk, and then Minho would pull away and vacate his side of the bed in favour of going to make breakfast. Sometimes Taemin would manage to entice him back into bed for a short while, but Minho was a get-up-and-go kind of guy. Once he was awake, he couldn’t wait to get the day started. Which is why proper cuddle time was reserved for late at night, before they both succumbed to sleep.

Still, he made sure to spend at least ten minutes in bed with Taemin each morning they were together.

“I don’t get up straight away,” he argued. “I kiss you good morning first. And if we’d not been together that night, I’d message you good morning.”

“You’re always the first to do that,” Taemin contemplated. “Because I don’t want to wake you up, since you never put your phone on silent or turn it off.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you woke me up,” Minho shrugged. “It’s not like you don’t wake me up by clambering on top of me in the mornings we’re together,” he joked, ruffling his boyfriend’s hair a little.

Taemin scoffed, reaching his hand up and fixing the hair Minho had just messed up. “What’s the next question?”

Minho retrieved the questions on his phone. “Complete this sentence: my boyfriend is…”

“An asshole.”

“Oh, you can film the rest of the video by yourself then, right?” Minho asked Taemin, slightly theatrically, before beginning to get off the bed and taking the phone with him.

“You think I can’t hold your audience?” Taemin’s amused voice came from behind Minho as he stood up.

“Not with those tiny hands,” Minho teased, sticking his tongue out at his boyfriend.

“Hey, you’re not helping my answer to the question you just asked,” Taemin replied. “Now it’s ‘rude asshole’. Come here and make it up to me.”

“You’ll have to come here and get me,” Minho smirked, taking a further step away from the bed.

“You wish.”

The two were involved in a staring contest of sorts for a few moments, before Minho’s resolve crumbled. He was always the first to give in with teasing stand offs like this - Taemin was his weakness.

“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, climbing back onto the bed and taking back his original seat next to his lover.

Taemin was smiling smugly at this point, and, God, the boy was a pain in the ass sometimes, but right now Minho wanted to do nothing more than kiss that stupid, beautiful grin off his face. But, he resisted.

“Answer the question properly,” he said instead, trying not to glance at Taemin’s lips too often.

“…What was the question?”

Unbelievable.

“My boyfriend is…”

“Ah!” Taemin exclaimed, nodding. “Well, I already answered. I’ll answer properly after you give yours.”

“Fine”, Minho accepted, beginning to think about what answer he’d give. He came to a conclusion pretty quickly, but fuck, it was so cheesy he didn’t even want to say it out loud.

“You’re…” he started, taking a breath. “Happiness. Even when you’re not happy yourself. You keep me going when I’m having a bad day, and my mood is lifted just by spending time with you. I feel pure happiness when it’s just us… just being able to be with you…” he didn’t know how to continue, especially since this was going to broadcasted to everyone who clicked on this video, so he stopped there.

It took Taemin a short while to speak, that smile still ever-present on his face. “Well, I’m going to plagiarise your answer. A bit. You’re my strength. You’re - you’re always here, cheering me up when I have a lot of work to do, motivating me to be the best person I can be, encouraging me when I feel like I can’t do anything… and, yeah. It’s weird to say all of this in front of a camera.”

“I know,” Minho chuckled, taking hold of Taemin’s hand. “Anyway, we can cut that question out if you want. If you don’t want it in the video.”

Taemin shrugged. “It’s okay,” he smiled softly, pecking Minho’s lips.

After a few more small kisses, the pair moved onto the next question.

“Who wears the pants in our relationship?” Minho asked, scrunching his nose slightly at the phone screen. It was a bit of a weird question.

“Well, on a good day, neither of us,” Taemin quickly answered, and Minho let out a laugh as his boyfriend grinned next to him.

“What was that about things being too personal to say on camera?”

“I couldn’t resist, what did you expect me to say?” Taemin asked. “And it’s true, really. Neither of us do. We’re pretty equal.”

Minho hummed in agreement. “Neither of us do,” he echoed. “Although, I feel like you can boss me around a little more, since you’re so adorable and you’ve perfected ways of getting me to do things for you.”

Taemin’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Yeah. You’re the only person who has ever, and will ever see my aegyo.”

“That’s fine by me,” Minho winked.

Taemin rolled his eyes. “Next question?” he asked, and Minho nodded in response before beginning to read.

“What do we usually argue about?”

“Well…” Taemin said slowly. “We never really argue. Obviously we tease each other a lot, but it doesn’t turn into anything serious… ah, apart from that time we went to Jeju Island in November…”

“Ready to go?” Taemin heard Minho call from the other end of the apartment. The other boy had left the bedroom a few minutes earlier, dragging his suitcase to the door. A lot had changed within those few minutes.

The last time Taemin saw Minho, the former was just collecting his belongings, gathering his suitcase and rucksack to bring out to the hall. Taemin had finished packing at Minho’s apartment earlier that day, having only returned to his own place to grab some essentials. Despite not officially living at Minho’s, over time Taemin had left so many personal items; almost half of the closet was filled with Taemin’s clothing. What was the point in taking it all back to his own place if he stayed with Minho for over half of each week, only going back home for college work? Taemin had considered the possibility of just moving in with Minho and taking train to college and back when he needed to. But he hadn’t brought it up with Minho yet. Especially because of the fact that they had only been dating for five months.

They had two hours until the flight, and they were already running behind schedule for the day, according to Minho’s standards. Minho always liked to give plenty of time to arrive for flights, apparently. Taemin was a little more relaxed about it. The airport was only half an hour away; they’d be fine.

Minho hadn’t seemed to think so, though, and for the past half hour he had been hurrying Taemin to get his stuff together and bring it out to the hall, ready to go. Which Taemin would be doing, right now, if not for the fact that he’d reached into the pocket of his rucksack, and, fuck, where the hell did his passport go?

“Taemin!” Minho called again, prompting a quiet stream of swear words from Taemin as he opened up his rucksack fully, plunging his hand in and fishing around inside for anything that could resemble his passport. Minho was going to fucking kill him.

Ten seconds later, Minho appeared in the door way, by which point Taemin had flung open his suitcase, ready to delve into that, too.

“What are you doing?” Minho asked, running his gaze quickly over the… situation. “We have to go.”

“Just, uh, give me five minutes,” Taemin requested, moving his eyes back to his suitcase as he sat down on the bed.

“What for? Why are your bags open again?”

“I…” Taemin sighed. There wasn’t any use in trying to hide the fact that something was wrong. “I can’t find my passport.”

Minho was quiet for a moment, and Taemin looked up to see a frown on his face.

“You said you put it in the bag.”

Taemin took another quick glance into his rucksack. “It’s not there.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Taemin, we have to go!” Minho replied, getting visibly angrier. “We don’t have time to lose passports, especially when I told you last night to make sure it was packed!”

“I did pack it, it’s in here somewhere!” Taemin responded, getting a bit annoyed himself. “I’ll find it, just go and wait by the door.”

Minho ignored him, walking over to the bed and beginning to rile through Taemin’s suitcase. “No way. If you think I’m just going to stand outside while you search at a snail’s pace, you’re wrong.”

“At a snail’s pace?”

“Well, it’s your fault we’re running late in the first place,” Minho answered, removing one of Taemin’s folded shirts from the suitcase and putting on the bed next to him. “You’re the one who didn’t even start packing until this morning.”

“Yeah, and I finished within an hour!” Taemin countered, making the split decision to just empty the contents of his rucksack on the bed and sift through them that way. “It was you who kept going through your stuff, over and over because you insisted you thought you’d forgotten something.”

“Obviously, I wasn’t the one I needed to worry about,” Minho grumbled, continuing to remove Taemin’s clothes from the suitcase as he felt around for any hint of a passport. “I know you’re always losing things, I just thought, you know, having a weekend away together would be a good enough reason to keep track.”

“That’s not fair,” Taemin looked at Minho, pausing his search. “I thought it was here.”

“You didn’t check,” Minho replied, meeting his stare. “And now, we’re going to miss our flight. If you even care.”

“Shut the fuck up, Minho, you know I do,” Taemin glared. “We can get another flight if we miss ours.”

“That makes everything okay, doesn’t it?” Minho said sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter that you refused to pack until this morning, that you have no clue where your passport is, because we can just get another flight, if we find it.”

“I put it in the fucking bag,” Taemin repeated for the nth time, honestly infuriated at this point. He didn’t know why Minho was making such a huge deal out of this. He’d find his passport. They’d get on a plane, it didn’t matter which one. A one way flight from Seoul to Jeju cost as little as twenty two thousand won; Minho was acting like their entire life savings were going up in smoke. “Just get out, I’ll find it,” he said sternly.

Minho looked at Taemin for a second before leaving the room quickly, slamming the door behind him.

Taemin swallowed, letting out a breath as he returned his attention to his belongings, trying not to think about how their trip was effectively ruined either way. What a way to start a vacation.

Ten minutes later, Taemin was dragging his suitcase out of the room, rucksack on his bag with his passport tucked safely inside. He had found it in the zip pocket lining the inside of his rucksack. He was sure he’d put it in the front pocket. So, when he’d had his hand jammed into the empty bag, contents strewn over the bed, and he’d felt a rectangular, plastic shape in the lining of the pocket, a wave of surprise washed over him, as well as an even bigger surge of relief.

When Taemin re-entered the hall with his stuff, he found Minho sitting on his own suitcase, his head resting on his hands as he stared at the wall in front of him.

“Found it,” Taemin murmured, unable to ignore the anger he still felt at the other man’s attitude. “Like I said I would.”

“Took you long enough,” Minho replied, standing up and grabbing his own belongings, avoiding Taemin’s eyes.

Fine. If Minho didn’t want to look at him, he didn’t fucking have to.

Taemin took a hold of his suitcase and walked past Minho without a glance, opening the door. “Hurry the fuck up. I’m not the one who needs to be seven years early to a flight,” he said, immediately walking out of the apartment, not waiting for Minho to join him.

Over the half hour it took to get to the airport, the pair exchanged two sentences. The first was to confirm they were getting the bus rather than a taxi, and the second was Minho telling Taemin to walk faster as they approached the building.

They completed security checks and arrived in the waiting area with forty minutes to go until their flight began boarding.

“Told you we’d make it,” Taemin said under his breath, sitting down in a metal chair opposite some unknown cafe branch.

“You know, even airport staff tell people to arrive a few hours before boarding,” Minho told him, sitting next to him in a similar chair and crossing his arms. “Because shit can go wrong. Like people losing their passports.”

Taemin scoffed. “So what? We’re here. If I hadn’t have lost it we would have just been sitting here longer.”

“If you hadn’t have lost it, we might have actually begun the vacation positively. So, congratulations on making this miserable.”

Something about that sentence struck a nerve with Taemin, and he didn’t say anything else. He didn’t try to argue. He just looked into his lap, counting down the minutes until the flight boarding.

Just under an hour later, the pair took their seats on the plane. It was a relatively empty flight; about twenty people down at the front of the plane, and around the same number towards the back. Taemin and Minho were sat almost in the middle. Surrounding them was a young girl a few seats to the right who was listening to music, and an old man about four rows in front.

They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since Minho’s final statement in the waiting area, and Taemin was beginning to dread the whole weekend. He was still angry, but he didn’t want his memories of Jeju to be like this.

The plane took off, and they sat in silence. Taemin had to apologise. He did think that, overall, he wasn’t to blame for the argument. He wouldn’t have gotten angry if his boyfriend hadn’t first. But spending the weekend in a feud with Minho… he couldn’t do it.

He was just opening his mouth to speak, until, Minho let out a small sigh.

“Tae,” he said quietly, and Taemin paused.

“Yeah?”

“I’m�� I’m sorry,” Minho confessed. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I just… like being organised with things like this. But that doesn’t give me a right to be rude to you like that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Taemin said. “I should have packed earlier, like you said, and paid attention to where I was putting things. And I’m sorry for neglecting your feelings about the situation.”

“It’s okay,” Minho mumbled, reaching up to stroke Taemin’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Like you said, we made it on time. We don’t have to stay angry at each other.”

Taemin nodded, moving Minho’s hand slowly from his cheek to intertwine their fingers. “I… I just want to have a good weekend with you. We can do that, right?”

“Yeah,” Minho smiled. “We can, and we will.”

_________________________

“Ah, this is the last question,” Taemin said, looking down at the phone as he scanned his eyes over the words. “What’s your favourite thing I’ve ever done for you?”

“… Probably when you wrote that song for me and played it on my birthday,” Minho replied, a small smile on his lips as he spoke. “It was the first time I ever heard you sing.”

Taemin nodded, thinking back to that evening he’d performed it as Minho had sat next to him. He had been working on the song for weeks, wanting to make sure it was just right. He’d had to compose while Minho was at work - he didn’t want to risk him hearing it if he was in the apartment.

“That was when I realised I want to be with you forever,” Minho continue shyly, earning a bright smile from Taemin.

“I’m glad you liked it so much,” Taemin said, knowing his cheeks had probably gained a faint pink blush. “I worked hard.”

“I could tell,” Minho grinned, quickly kissing the side of Taemin’s head. “So, what about you?”

Taemin racked through potential answers in his mind. There were so many occasions to consider.

“Maybe that time I was really stressed out with college,” he thought out loud. “When I had a deadline the next day and I was trying to finish all my work so I could hand it in early. And you called in sick at work and - ah, will your boss see this?”

Minho laughed. “I sincerely doubt it.”

“Okay,” Taemin cleared his throat a little before continuing to speak. “You called in sick at work so you could treat me. You went out and bought me a new rosary bracelet, and then when you came home you cooked me lots of delicious food for when I had finished my assignments. I finished in the evening and you brought me out of the bedroom, where everything was prepared,” he recalled; his cheeks almost hurt from smiling just thinking about it. “I was so touched.”

“I know. You teared up.”

“Did not.”

As if he would ever admit it.

Minho chuckled and moved his arm from his side, and Taemin leaned up a little to allow Minho’s arm to rest over his shoulder again.

“Well, that’s the end of the questions,” Minho said, and Taemin glanced at him to see him looking into the camera lens. “Let us know what else you want to see, and Taem and I will do it. Depending on what it is.”

“If this gets five billion thumbs up we’ll make out for five minutes on camera.”

“No, we won’t.”

“Good luck!” Taemin grinned at the camera, disregarding Minho’s negation. Like they’d ever get five billion thumbs up. Maybe five million…

“I’ll be back on Tuesday for a new FIFA video,” Minho said. “If any of you don’t know Taemin, I’ve put a link to his channel in the description so you can check it out and subscribe.”

“My channel is better than Minho’s.”

“I’ve changed my mind, don’t subscribe to him.”

“Rude.”

“Anyway, thanks so much for watching, bye!”

[jjongs-lubricants]

@taerrorize this be the good shit (not really i havent written creatively in five years buts something)

Starting off as a romantic one sided ontae im planning on shifting to platonic ot5 or something. Also dont worry about the medical lingo.

Code Red: Fire

“And thats basically the glasgow coma scale. I cant believe they dont teach you this in school”

Jinki took off his glasses and pushed his hair out his face, the fluorescent light hitting his jaw line just the right way, making him look a lot more domineering than usual, causing Taemin to miss whatever he was saying.

“- without insurance will always need to fill out a medical no matter how often they come here, which for some patients is often. But dont be intimidated by them they mean no harm...well at least most of the time”

Jinki chuckled to himself and motioned for Taemin to follow him out of the psych emergency unit and into the emergency reception foyer. Taemin was barely following what Jinki was saying, too caught up in how broad his shoulders looked in his lab coat and how the stethoscope was positioned around his neck, bringing attention to his adams apple that would move ever so slightly whenever he spoke. Stopping at the receptionist desk he pulled out the time sheets, showing Taemin how to sign in and out for breaks and for lunch. Jinki signed himself out for his lunch, but all Taemin was taking in was how his fingers grasped the ballpoint pen, the muscles in his hand flexing ever so slightly as he wrote, Taemins mind imagining images of Jinki flexing other muscles.

Jinki quirked his eyebrows up in slight confusion at Taemins glazed stare at the sign in sheets, waving his hand in front of Taemins face to get his attention. Taemin snapped out of his daydream of ravishing Jinki in one of the patient beds during a night shift and cleared his throat, making the receptionist, Kibum, look up from his paperwork.

“Sorry, Dr.Lee, its just a lot of information. Working on the unit is a lot different from being in school. Ill try my best to keep track of everything”

Taemin gave a full 90 degree bow in apology, inciting a chuckle from Jinki.

“The schools arent how they used to be, I remember when being a candy striper was how students got experience. Now all they give you are textbooks and exams”

Jinki ruffled Taemins hair, bringing a warm red flush to his cheeks. He continued

“You residents are always so tense. Just follow the staffs lead and youll be as good as a perfectly healthy 16 year olds blood pressure which should be?”

Taemin went wide eyed for a second, not expecting the sudden question and especially not expecting that nature of question either. He rolled over the few options in his head and when he felt he stalled too long he frantically answered

“120 over 80 Dr. Lee. Not accounting for fluctuations and external factors, sir”

Jinki let out a genuine full out laugh, causing Kibum to look between the two of them with a smirk on his face, studying Taemins face.

“Impressive Taemin, believe me a lot of residents that have been through here wouldnt have known the answer. Youll do just fine.”

With another hair ruffle Jinki announced his departure for lunch and let Taemin know that if he had any questions at all to give him a call through his extension. Taemin nodded and bowed again, the warm red flush coming back to his face.

Kibum leaned back in his worn-out ergonomic desk chair and whistled at Taemin, making Taemin jump and cover his heart with his hand.

“Talk about Code-Red, you look like you have severe vasoconstriction induced by stress and anxiety, perhaps even by romantic feelings”

Kibum wiggled his eyebrows up and down ,suggesting something that Taemin was trying to hide.

“Im sorry I dont think we've met before”

“No worries, I'm the charge nurse, Kim Kibum. I've worked in almost every unit in this hospital so if you have any questions extending this unit feel free to ask me”

Taemin was about to express his thanks when Kibum continued

“Unless of course you would like to contact Dr.Lee via his extension. Maybe notify him of a code-red”

Kibum wiggled his eye brows up and down again, making Taemin blush once again. Ignoring Kibums dancing eyebrows, Taemin said

“Isn't code-red for code for when a fire is occurring? You sure are friendly Mr. Kim”

“Ugh dont call me that you sound like such a resident, you can call me Kibum or even 'hey you' either one works. And when youve worked here as long as I have formalities start to be meaningless.”

Taemin let out a shaky sigh from everything that was going on. First the Doctor that he is shadowing is super hot, and second he already blew his cover and now is being harassed by the charge nurse. He was just supposed to be the quite resident that did his time and moved on. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I know that you just want to be the quiet resident that does their time and stuff, but dont worry, everyone thinks that Dr.Lee is attractive and youll get a hold of things. We'll help you”

Kibum stood up and reached over the receptionist desk just to ruffle Taemins hair, causing Taemin to blush and to cover his mouth with his hands.

“Seriously if you keep going red like that im gonna have to call a code pink”

“Code pink?” Taemin questioned.

Kibum shrugged “Cardiac Arrest or Medical Emergency, specifically for an infant or child”

Taemin rolled his eyes and sighed

“Of course”