It was late, but Minho still hadn’t returned to his house after having dinner with Taemin’s mother and extended family. He and Taemin sat outside after everyone else had gone, just breathing the midsummer evening air.

                “I hear cicadas,” Taemin said quietly. He and Minho paused just to listen to them. The singing of the cicadas seemed to swell and then diminish.

                It was a quintessentially summer sound. Taemin and Minho loved it.

                “I’m going to be nineteen in Western age tomorrow, hyung,” Taemin said. “I’ll only be a year younger than you by international standards.”

                “Too bad by Korean standards you’re two years younger than me,” Minho laughed. “But no, it’s not really too bad. I don’t know how I’d feel if you didn’t call me ‘hyung.’”

                “I don’t know how I’d feel,” Taemin laughed. “One day, though. One day I won’t call you ‘hyung’ anymore.”

                “Eh? Why not?” Minho asked, concernedly. “Are you going to call me ‘oppa’ or something? Please Taemin, I’m not into that.”

                “No, hyung,” Taemin laughed. “Although that would be quite funny. No, I’m going to call you ‘nampyeon.’ Because it’ll be true.”

                “That seems kind of cold,” Minho said thoughtfully. “Don’t you think ‘yeobo’ or ‘jagiya’ would be better?”

                “Definitely,” Taemin said, snuggling up next to Minho. “You’re going to be the best nampyeon ever, hyung.”

                “No. You will be.”

A/N: LAHELGAIEHTGAIET what is this word vomit.

P.S. "Nampyeon" means husband.