Through Spring
Title: Through Spring
Pairing: 2min
Rating: pg
Genre: au, fluff
Summary: They fall in love through the seasons.
Words: 699
Whilst Taemin is heat and sun, Minho is the spreading elms along the sidewalk, soaking him up.
Today they're walking to the cornerstore and beyond because between the two of them decided, somehow, that it would be a good idea to blister their skin in the burning heat.
That, Minho thinks wryly, is Taemin's effect. Minho is there to make sure he's not going to kill himself with his tendency to embrace instant gratification. This time his buffering skills include getting water along the way and ensuring that Taemin is wearing socks.
“I feel so good,” Taemin says, and they walk, sweat slicked and spitting ice cubes in between curses and cheesy lyrics, until dusk.
Night comes with dropping degrees and a breeze that only whispers of the sun, hints of it left in the scent of cooling pavement. Taemin has been watching for stars, but it's Minho who sees the first one. It's only a small, dim twinkle, but he's still got the first one and he's won so he's number one now, so Taemin can just suck it, his pout isn't doing anything (but still Minho somehow ends up buying him mini-doughnuts as a consolation prize).
Autumn is fall,
and it makes sense, really, because Taemin is having a realization. In between buying more sweaters to wear over and over and shivering around bites of ice-cream he's found himself with Minho on his mind. Minho, who teasingly bites the top off of his carefully swirled ice cream castles. Minho, who's eyes are simultaneously soft and wicked at the same time. Minho of the very holdable hands, whose presence is reassuring and comfortable and exactly what Taemin wants.
The leaves drift, staggering and crisp-red-orange and dancing where the wind takes them. Taemin is drifting too, but instead of down he's going where Minho goes. Happily.
Minho is lying beneath a lamppost, flashlight in hand, still and barely visible beneath his layers. It's night and he's doing nothing, and Taemin comes across him only by accident.
“What are you doing, Minho?” His voice is piping and reedy, alien in the dark night.
“Come, lay down,” Minho says, whisper a stark contrast. Taemin is always too loud for snowy nights-his inside voice is loud, his outside voice is louder, and when situations require quiet he never quite is sure how to react.
He lies down anyway though, and is startled to see in the sky a tunnel that reaches the heavens. The snow is only just visible around the edges, but on the inside it's golden and soft and looks as though it could touch the stars. He could take them, keep them, and his heart wants and his freezing fingers crave and his eyes sting.
Minho sets the light next to him and it tips into a snowbank, muted by the soft white. “Taemin. Taeminnie.” He's sitting up, watching Taemin with a peculiar expression on his face.
Taemin clears his throat, a picture of avoidance. “Yeah?”
“You look cold.”
“I want cocoa,” Taemin counters, then sits up himself, brushing off the snow and the strange flood of wishes and emotions from just a moment ago. “Hot cocoa and marshmallows.”
That's something that they both know only Minho's mother buys, so it's there that they end up, tucked into a pile of blankets on top of Minho's bed. The mugs of chocolate have long been drunk and now they're just resting shoulder to shoulder, pretending like neither is lying when they pretend like they're not tired.
“It's a happy thing,” Taemin tells Minho as his lids droop.
Taemin really doesn't understand how or when it happens, but somehow Minho ends up wrapping himself around Taemin, and that's how they sleep.
Indeed, Minho thinks, Taemin warm and pliant and sleepy in his arms, it is a happy thing.
Taemin thinks it was Minho's fault. Minho claims it was all Taemin, because really, being so cute like that is just asking for trouble.
They argue over a shiny, laminate booth table-top and french fries. It's spring, clearly; Taemin's hair is rumpled, Minho's looking pleased and possessive, and they're both obviously madly in love. Springtime, lovely, sappy love.
(The kiss was all cupid.)
Pairing: 2min
Rating: pg
Genre: au, fluff
Summary: They fall in love through the seasons.
Words: 699
Whilst Taemin is heat and sun, Minho is the spreading elms along the sidewalk, soaking him up.
Today they're walking to the cornerstore and beyond because between the two of them decided, somehow, that it would be a good idea to blister their skin in the burning heat.
That, Minho thinks wryly, is Taemin's effect. Minho is there to make sure he's not going to kill himself with his tendency to embrace instant gratification. This time his buffering skills include getting water along the way and ensuring that Taemin is wearing socks.
“I feel so good,” Taemin says, and they walk, sweat slicked and spitting ice cubes in between curses and cheesy lyrics, until dusk.
Night comes with dropping degrees and a breeze that only whispers of the sun, hints of it left in the scent of cooling pavement. Taemin has been watching for stars, but it's Minho who sees the first one. It's only a small, dim twinkle, but he's still got the first one and he's won so he's number one now, so Taemin can just suck it, his pout isn't doing anything (but still Minho somehow ends up buying him mini-doughnuts as a consolation prize).
Autumn is fall,
and it makes sense, really, because Taemin is having a realization. In between buying more sweaters to wear over and over and shivering around bites of ice-cream he's found himself with Minho on his mind. Minho, who teasingly bites the top off of his carefully swirled ice cream castles. Minho, who's eyes are simultaneously soft and wicked at the same time. Minho of the very holdable hands, whose presence is reassuring and comfortable and exactly what Taemin wants.
The leaves drift, staggering and crisp-red-orange and dancing where the wind takes them. Taemin is drifting too, but instead of down he's going where Minho goes. Happily.
Minho is lying beneath a lamppost, flashlight in hand, still and barely visible beneath his layers. It's night and he's doing nothing, and Taemin comes across him only by accident.
“What are you doing, Minho?” His voice is piping and reedy, alien in the dark night.
“Come, lay down,” Minho says, whisper a stark contrast. Taemin is always too loud for snowy nights-his inside voice is loud, his outside voice is louder, and when situations require quiet he never quite is sure how to react.
He lies down anyway though, and is startled to see in the sky a tunnel that reaches the heavens. The snow is only just visible around the edges, but on the inside it's golden and soft and looks as though it could touch the stars. He could take them, keep them, and his heart wants and his freezing fingers crave and his eyes sting.
Minho sets the light next to him and it tips into a snowbank, muted by the soft white. “Taemin. Taeminnie.” He's sitting up, watching Taemin with a peculiar expression on his face.
Taemin clears his throat, a picture of avoidance. “Yeah?”
“You look cold.”
“I want cocoa,” Taemin counters, then sits up himself, brushing off the snow and the strange flood of wishes and emotions from just a moment ago. “Hot cocoa and marshmallows.”
That's something that they both know only Minho's mother buys, so it's there that they end up, tucked into a pile of blankets on top of Minho's bed. The mugs of chocolate have long been drunk and now they're just resting shoulder to shoulder, pretending like neither is lying when they pretend like they're not tired.
“It's a happy thing,” Taemin tells Minho as his lids droop.
Taemin really doesn't understand how or when it happens, but somehow Minho ends up wrapping himself around Taemin, and that's how they sleep.
Indeed, Minho thinks, Taemin warm and pliant and sleepy in his arms, it is a happy thing.
Taemin thinks it was Minho's fault. Minho claims it was all Taemin, because really, being so cute like that is just asking for trouble.
They argue over a shiny, laminate booth table-top and french fries. It's spring, clearly; Taemin's hair is rumpled, Minho's looking pleased and possessive, and they're both obviously madly in love. Springtime, lovely, sappy love.
(The kiss was all cupid.)