"I'll wait" 

title: Remember?

summary: "Oh please, you're dating my husband. Call me Minho!"

pairing: 2min, (sorta) side jongtae

genre: angst but kinda funny(???), domestic AU + advice era taemin because that deserves a genre of its own

word count: 970

---

I went through hell looking for my angel
But they don't live there

Love is easy, don't you remember?

You're the one that I love
And I can't just cut this yo-yo string, babe
I just keep coming back
And man, it keeps on happening

-Jawncarlo, Remember?

When the doorbell rang, Taemin rushed down the stairs, announcing a hasty "I'm coming!"

Minho sat on the couch, his favourite translation of Shakespeare's 'Othello' in his hands, as he watched the love of his life run to the door to meet with another man.

Even after the eight years they had spent together, his heart still leapt up at Taemin's beauty.

He was wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt cropped just above his navel, each movement of his arms revealing more of the new tattoo on his waist. 

It'd be a lie to say Minho wasn't pining to wrap his hands around it one more time. 

Instead, there was a belt encircling it, accentuating its slenderness and holding a pair of black ripped jeans up.

He was proud that his husband had finally begun embracing his femininity as a strength, as hinted by his black and silver long hair and eye makeup, yet he itched with jealousy at the thought of another man setting his eyes on him when he looked so undeniably gorgeous.

Taemin welcomed Jonghyun in while fixing his cross-shaped earring. "Hi, Jjong!"

"Hi," He walked in with a bouquet in his hands and a beam on his lips that crumbled the moment he spotted the town's general practitioner on the sofa. 

"Oh- Hello, Doctor Choi..." he greeted hesitantly. Confused, he glanced at Taemin and whispered, "I thought you were divorced?"

"Oh, don't mind me." Minho waved his hand with a friendly smile.

"We're separated." Taemin clarified.

"So you're still married?..."

"Legally, yes. But not for long. Sentimentally, no."

"Oh my, Jonghyun, hurry up and take him to this date, maybe once he comes back he'll be less mean to his favourite man in the world."

"My favourite man in the world is the undertaker who'll bury your sorry ." Taemin spat and grabbed his coat, throwing scornful darts at Minho with his eyes. "I'm ready."

"T-These are for you..." Jonghyun stuttered and handed him the flowers. 

His gaze kept flipping back and forth between the spouses. 

"Woah, thanks! I love them!" he accepted them gladly and placed a kiss on his cheek.  

Minho showed them his back, not finding the courage within himself to turn around and witness what he had grasped by solely listening- knowing how much Taemin loved flowers, rancour boiled in his stomach when he realized Jonghyun had brought a nosegay, and the sound of his beloved's lips smacking against someone else's cheek was enough to keep his gaze chained to the book before him. 

"Minho, how are we dealing with the keys?" Taemin asked since they only had one pair.

"As you prefer. Maybe it's best if I keep them." He suggested, hinting at Taemin's talent at losing whatever he touched. 

"But what if I come home late? You sleep early and it's risky to leave the door unlocked."

"It's fine. I'll wait." he spoke softly, lovingly.

Taemin stopped in his tracks, a pinch of his old feelings resurfacing at Minho's thoughtfulness. 

He paused and gulped the warmth in his chest away. "Let's go."

"Have fun!" Minho exclaimed.

"Goodbye, Doctor Choi..." Jonghyun greeted once again, disoriented by the situation.

"Oh please, you're dating my husband. Call me Minho!"

-

When Taemin got back midnight had struck. 

Minho was still sitting on the couch, a chuckle escaping his lips when he finally gathered the strength to look at the flowers he was holding. "He got you red roses?"

"Cut it out. How was he supposed to know?" Taemin spat, slipping his sneakers and coat off.

"Forgive me, it's just funny to me since throughout our marriage most of your complaints were about how overrated roses are and how awful of a colour red is."

"Yeah, yeah, you know me so well. Whatever." He waved his hand and jumped on the couch. "I also complained about you being an , in case you forgot."

"I do know you very well," he resumed, ignoring Taemin's last surly remark.  

"For instance, I would've gifted you with blue mood pansies or white orchids, because I know they're your favourite," he began, a smile growing on his lips as he stared at his husband. 

Taemin turned to face him, a hostile frown attempting to conceal the tenderness on his stunning, glimmery brown eyes.

"Sunflowers if I wanted to cheer you up, poppies to console you, chamomile flowers for the flu and peonies for good luck. As of now-" he interrupted himself for a moment. 

"White Gardenias, as a message of secrete love, because deep down, we still love each other; Blue irises, as a symbol of faith and hope that soon you'll realize it, and forget-me-nots, because I hope you won't replace me before you do."

Their gazes were stuck like opposite charges, both of their hearts overflowing with a feeling Taemin was struggling to accept in fear of being hurt again.

"Also, I wouldn't have taken you out to dinner. On a scale of one to ten, how hard was it for your hobo to maintain a civil image while eating?"

"Don't even mention it." He dropped theatrically to lay on the sofa and drowned his face in a cushion.

Minho chortled and patted his knee. "No need to be embarrassed, don't overthink it."

His hand indulged on his lover's leg, a subtle, gentle squeeze trying to convey one more of his endless I'm sorry.

"I'll give this one to you," Taemin said, voice purposely muffled by the cushion "I have to admit, you're gonna be very, very hard to replace."

Flapping butterflies' wings melted into Minho's stomach, and he had to put all his might into not hugging, kissing and ravishing Taemin until sunrise.

"Can you repeat it without the cushion? I didn't hear it well." he joked, and received a beating with the said pillow.

" off."