Chapter IV

Serendipity

*This ficlet takes place after chapter 28 on TWT

It really is blistering hot in the private airstrip Minho likes to use for his business trips, Taemin thinks as he shifts his weight from one leg to another. He’s proud of himself for his choice of clothing—a flimsy thin white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and black ripped jeans—because if he’s wearing some formal, preppy Minho likes to wear, he’d probably die of dehydration already. The heat is overwhelming, and Taemin is only half-listening to Cho Jihye—one of the pilots and flight instructor in the small, private airport—as she tells him about the ongoing renovation. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, and Taemin wonders if she’s just talking to him so he won’t die of heat and boredom. Taemin appreciates the sentiment.

A little over 20 minutes later, the gleaming private jet comes into view, shooting the noise level up a few thousand notches. Taemin tries not to make a face. He doesn’t understand why Minho and the other Choi spawns like to waste resources on like private jets when there are a million first class seats with excellent services available.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he had been in that jet before, and he knows how comfortable it is and how much better it actually feels when he can get a transportation that follows his schedule, and not vice versa. However, it’s also freaking luxurious and Taemin is just so ing sick of everything being so over-the-top; from their penthouse to Minho’s gifts, to the jet and the freaking private airport.

Seriously, what is wrong with these people?

Taemin is so busy cussing out the gross show of riches and tugging on his already-popped collar that he doesn’t realize Minho and his team of men-and-women-in-suits is walking towards him and Jihye until they're within hearing range. The latter gives Taemin a polite nod in farewell before heading back to her office, or hangar, or whatever. Taemin sets to plastering his fake smile and nods at Minho’s subordinate as they greet him pleasantly (-kissers, Taemin thinks viciously, remembering all the times he's overheard Minho's employees talking behind Taemin's back) and questions him about his well-being and his project and stuff that are not their business, dammit.

Wow, he’s pissed off today. Taemin blames the heat.

Luckily, Minho senses his impatience and sets to steer him away from the crowd, dismissing them with a deep bow and thanking them for their good work. Taemin eagerly leads the way back to where his Aston Martin is parked. Minho sighs at the sight of his car—he hates Taemin’s Aston—but doesn’t voice his protest like usual.

Taemin is heading straight for the driver’s seat when a hand on his arm stops him. He turns to Minho questioningly, raising an eyebrow when Minho holds his hand out, palm up, whilst shooting him an expectant look. Taemin’s eyebrow rises higher.

“What,” he says impatiently. Minho doesn’t answer, but he moves forward to grab the keys off Taemin’s hand. “Hey, I know you hate my car, but that’s not the way to—what are you doing—dammit, Choi!”

Minho gestures at him to get to the passenger’s seat while he takes the wheel. Taemin looks at him strangely, partly because Minho doesn’t like to drive right after getting off a flight and partly because Minho and the Aston are arch nemeses. He doesn’t want to spend more time than necessary under the heat, though, so he gets in anyway.

Taemin waits until they’re out of the airport to stop looking at Minho suspiciously and start asking questions. “Why are you driving?”

“Starting tomorrow, I’m assigning my chauffeur to you,” he tells Taemin, instead of answering. Taemin gapes in outrage, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to figure out which curse word he’s going to spit out at his boyfriend first because WHAT?

“The ? I don’t need a ing babysitter, I can drive just fi—are you insulting my driving? You and your shady insults, I swear to God—”

“It’s not an insult. Stop yelling at me,” he adds, moving to turn the radio on. Taemin slaps his hand away, ignoring Minho’s exasperated glare. “I don’t want you to drive, it’s too dangerous.”

Taemin doesn’t know which part of his outrage he should voice first, so instead, he takes a deep breath in order to regain his composure. God, everyone is annoying today. And yesterday. And the day before. Jesus Christ what is wrong with the world? “I’ve been driving since I’m 16, Minho, I know what I’m doing—”

“Let me rephrase that; I don’t want you to drive while you’re pregnant, it’s too dangerous,” he says, and Taemin shuts up. Right. Of course. He was actually hoping they’d ignore the elephant in the room (car?) at least until they set foot at home, but Minho apparently came to term with that particular fact already.

“No it’s not,” Taemin argues petulantly, mostly because he doesn’t have any medical to back up his arguments yet, and arguing with Minho without an actual, valid basis to back your statement up? Not a good idea. “I still don’t need a chauffeur, though. I’m not a friggin’ princess.”

Minho ignores him. “I called the family’s OB/GYN, she’s going to want to take a look. Appointment’s tomorrow,” he informs Taemin.

Taemin frowns and folds his hands in front of his chest, ready to remind Minho that this baby is inside Taemin’s body, so really, shouldn’t he be involved in any kind of decision making? But just as he’s building up his argument, he can practically hear Minho telling him that it’s for his own good and ‘really, Tae, what are you even arguing for, we’re going to have to see her eventually’, so Taemin sighs and thumps the back of his head against the leather seat instead.

“You seem pretty relaxed about this,” Taemin comments after a long minute. The silence helps with his irritated mind, he thinks; the silence and Minho’s presence. “Last time we talked, you sounded like you’re about to have a panic att