Taemin has a minor panic session. Minho tries to help.

written from an anonymous prompt.

prompted by disenchantedshinee@tumblr   angst(ish) ahead

“Sorry!” came the whisper, interrupting his expostulation. “I, just, will you sit with me?”

Summer story. No description necessary.

This is going to be a collection of 2min drabbles, ranging from 100 words to 1000+ and not based off of anything in particular. Actually, the only reason that I'm not giving them each their own story is because I'm lazy. Really.   (enjoy)

It's summer, and the thing to do is roadtrip across America. 

What they have is an unlikely relationship.

They fall in love through the seasons.

It's all in the timing.

Taemin and Minho have finally, finally bought a house together.   Just a quick drabble. I'm so sorry about the lack of updates--I have ideas and virtually no time to write properly. I'll do my best to keep writing, though.

Taemin and airports.

Taemin is the new boy at Minho's grocery store.

Taemin is made of all things bright and beautiful.

One day Minki is perfectly healthy; the next he's croaking.

Minho teases. Taemin cracks.   pg-15ish   Written for a prompt at twominkink. I'm not entirely happy with this, but here it is regardless since I promised it.

Minho the librarian has been shot.

Minho might not be as good as chocolate covered bananas, but for Taemin he'll try.

Taemin's innocence has gone, completely and utterly.

Taemin has the sky where his heart should be.

Minki is elbow-deep in bubbles and neck-deep in annoyed aegyo.

Watching Taemin's concept shoot is almost enough to kill poor Minho.

Kibum-umma takes it upon himself to teach his bandmates how to cook rice.

It's lucky for Taemin that Minho is pretty much a technician

The new arrangements should have solved all of Minho's problems.

  Taemin's unassuming aegyo is going to be the end of Minho.

Taemin slowly slid his arms around Minho. “Are you okay?” With that. With this. The words were unspoken, yet were clearly there in the way his nails edged around the hem of Minho's shirt.

Minho could hardly stand the intense unfairness of this situation. Here he was, Taemin in his arms, and all the younger boy was talking about was no one missing their music cues. How could he be expected to be chivalrous?

In the heat of the music Taemin relished his fluidity, and in the carnal and self-absorbed fashion that comes from success he realized he found his dancing self undeniably beautiful.

  It had been a unanimous decision to place Minho in charge of Taemin's studying.