Title: Of Silly Clothes and Late Nights

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 750

Summary: Minho feels cornered by all the supposed fashion assaulting him everywhere.

Minho honestly thinks he’s had his fair share of people with bad fashion sense – and for very obvious reasons. One of them is none other than his dearest companion, Lee Jinki. Minho isn’t saying that he’s a walking garbage bag, he really isn’t. But sometimes, it’s hard to believe that he lives with a stuck-up self-proclaimed fashionista like Kibum. Minho knows that Jinki’s donning procedure consists of picking out the most comfortable pieces of clothing, regardless of color match and style. Sometimes, when Minho finds himself on the brink of dragging him to the mall (because despite common belief, Kibum never brings Jinki to the mall, claiming that it’d be too much effort) to get him at least something decent, he wounds up shaking his head fondly because there’s just something so Jinki about the way the oversized clothing sway when he moves and Minho really can’t bring himself to change that.

Taemin’s another story entirely. While Minho’s pretty sure that somehow, maybe someone would consider Taemin’s attire very fashionable, he can’t help but do a double take when the boy shows up wearing trumpet pants with one leg ripped open from the bottom to the knee, large strings of fabric hanging from his loose button-up and a thick, black choker clinging to his slim neck. He honestly thinks it looks ridiculous.

This, however, Minho never would’ve thought possible in all of his mundane life.

He’s been working well into the evening, taking on a late shift so that he could have tomorrow off to complete an assignment for his Advanced Math class. It’s far past eleven when he trudges in the door, shoulders slumped heavily from the bag that he’s brought with him since his first class at eight in the morning. He’s honestly surprised he didn’t collapse on his way home and all he wants to do is crawl into bed and curl up from exhaustion (perhaps he’ll stuff his cold toes under Jonghyun’s warm thighs – more for the heck of it than for the warmth).

Dumping his carrier by the door, Minho spins on his heels to head to their bedroom for the execution of that exact purpose, though a flash of bright blue, red and white has him halting in his step. When he turns back, he’s greeted with an utmost peculiar sight.

Bathed in the flickering lights of the muted television, a sleeping Jonghyun slumps against the armrest of their couch, his head slanted in the crook of his elbow, the angle pushing his thick-framed glasses askew on his nose. His eyelids aren’t entirely closed, but Minho doesn’t fret (it’s taken a while, but by now he’s gotten used to Jonghyun’s creepy sleeping habit), his white hair tucked back into a fountain-like ponytail at the top of his head. Draped over his shoulders is a blindingly blue shirt dress, the center gap revealing a white and red hoody, Sylvester the Cat in street wear easily filling up the red patch. His legs are covered by ripped denims, tugged up and curled beneath his form to conserve warmth and a familiar open notebook rests atop his thighs.

Minho think’s he’s never seen anything quite as silly as this.

But, when he’s done scoffing to himself and shaking his head in mock-despondency, when he takes another glance and truly lets his eyes run over every curve and dent of Jonghyun’s being, Minho can’t help but think that maybe he’s never seen anything quite as beautiful either.

And who can blame him, really? Because just then, Jonghyun’s form elicits a subtle shiver and his tiny body starts to coil in on itself, and Minho feels something tug at his heart strings. It’s with eyes swimming in fondness and affection that he turns off the television and walks over to scoop the man up in his arms, starting towards their bedroom.

The jostle easily conquers a light sleeper like Jonghyun and he lifts his head to mumble a groggy, “what,” but Minho shushes him and mumbles that they’re just going to bed to the top of his drawn-back hair. Jonghyun nods, burying his head in Minho’s chest and Minho’s sure the man’s already dozed off again.

The white tresses of the ponytail are tickling his lips and the edge of his nose, but Minho doesn’t pay it much heed. He can only smile at the warmth pressed close to him and he thinks that, okay, so attires didn’t really matter all that much at the end of the day.

A/N: OMFG I ACTUALLY WROTE SOMETHING, WHAT IS THIS

Idk guys, life. Stuff. Weird stuff. Things are happening without my consent and I'm sososo sorry I let it affect my writing but it did and it's not okay, I feel so guilty for everything rn ㅠㅠ

Please forgive me, my dear beautiful readers 

Speaking of which! Why hello to you, new subscribers, I honestly didn't expect more of you to show up. BUT YOU DID and I'm so freaking happy to see you. Tho I warn you, with the update schedule I've been leading lately you should all just unsubscribe OTL. I'm kidding, really, I will try to get better, it's just. Life, man. People. It's too damn hard.

(^me for the past two months)

Also I actually went and looked up the name of at least one of the clothing items bc I absolutely at fashion and that so I've honestly no idea what all those things are called. Which is why the story's written in Minho's POV bc honestly, we've all been there at some point, right, right? (Also idc what you say, Taemin's attire during the 'Goodbye' stage was freaking absurd, who even wears that e.e)

Everyone, You're marvelous and I love you <3 no seriously, I really do, I can't believe you're still sticking by after me being so douchy x.x 

But take care now, alright? and until next time!

(Photobucket is up and running again!)