Getting Taemin’s phone number is by far Minho’s greatest achievement in life. No doubts about that.

 

That crucial step opens so many doors for him to get to know Taemin better, and he figures that there’s no finer way of learning more about that pretty boy than through honesty and easy communication from both sides. After all, it takes time to build trust. Minho is doing both of them a favour by practising patience before delving deeper into the relationship.

 

Still, when Minho thinks about it, the hints of domesticity make his stomach swarm with butterflies. Taemin is always so cute with his rants, which often follows after a ‘are you free? I’m so angry >:(’ message as a heads up before launching straight into the inevitable rambling about every single detail that sours his mood for the day. There are also times when it gets too overwhelming that he ends up calling Minho without warning. In such cases, Minho is nothing but a throbbing, obliterated mess as he tries his best to listen without crying over how beautiful Taemin sounds.

 

He loves it, though. He loves the feeling of his heartstrings being tugged at repeatedly as if secured by a fishing hook while Taemin wields the hilt, locking him in place. Isn’t that romantic? Minho thinks it is romantic.

 

His adoration for Taemin is remarkably unrealistic but romantic. It’s as simple as that.

 

And Minho doesn’t want it to end just there, hence his determination to take Taemin out on a date today. The idea was merely a proposal that accidentally slipped out over the phone last night, just in time when Taemin wanted to bid him good night, and the silence that followed was hell. It almost felt unintentional until a few moments passed, and he heard a chuckle and an ‘okay, see you tomorrow’ before the call ended.

 

That’s how they ended up there on the spacious pathway of Hangang Park just three kilometres away from Taemin’s cat cafe as they hastily off the melted ice creams from their cones.

 

“I thought you didn’t like sweet things?” 

 

Minho hums with a bite of the frosty treat. “I don’t.”

 

“Then, is the ice cream not sweet enough for you?” Taemin asks in a teasing manner, his nose scrunching sceptically. Minho wants nothing but boop it as a reply. “If you’re eating it because I like sweet things, you should learn to limit it, you know.”

 

“Nah, that makes me a wuss.”

 

The boy laughs at his words, his eyes closing instantly with carefree mirth as he shies away to look at the river. “You’re crazy.”

 

Indeed, Minho is. How could he not be, given that someone so beautiful willingly goes out with him on a weekend when most people would wish to spend the day in a state of rest? How could he not be, he thinks incredulously, if Taemin’s laugh sounds so heavenly it douses him in a warmth he doesn’t know what to do with?

 

Minho is crazy. He concludes as he allows the smile to bloom on the corner of his lips, his finger gently tucking the stray hair behind Taemin’s ear. “I would rather build an immunity towards it,” he jokes, already sensing another breathtaking giggle yet to erupt from the latter’s throat. “That saves me from being a wuss and makes me a wooer instead.”

 

“You don’t mind the stomach ache?” Taemin pesters.

 

The taller man nods with conviction. “I don’t mind it.”

 

This time, Taemin mirrors his fond smile, and Minho feels fire in his chest with the intensity of the sun sitting right behind his ribcage. Then, as shocking as it appears, the pretty boy slips his hand against Minho’s, their fingers interlocking seamlessly like a woven fabric.

 

“Then I should provide the antibody, albeit passively,” he says softly with unconcealed shyness in his voice. His cheeks are pink, and the tips of his ears are red, but Minho is disoriented enough from the skinship to comment on what he observes.

 

He allows Taemin to pull him anywhere, practically dragging him on his feet as Minho wastes his time admiring their clasped hands. He’s not stupid. He knows what passive immunity means, and God, he doesn’t mean that when he mentions building an immune system, specifically against sugar-containing food.

 

His definition of building immunity involves downing sugary drinks until he’s numb to the taste that he can drink them without feeling sick. Never mind his own enjoyment, as long as he can accompany Taemin with his crazy dessert meals.

 

But this? This is far beyond his expectations. Minho is too stunned to do anything other than coo whenever Taemin squeezes his hand. He also appreciates the blush that darkens every time he caresses the back of the boy’s hand with his thumb. It must be his favourite part of hand-holding.

 

“Shall we sit there?” Minho speaks for the first time that evening after being blindsided by the bluntness of his date. “It’s getting late. The Rainbow Fountain show will start shortly.”

 

“The light show?” Taemin gawks in awe at the older man, who chuckles and nods in confirmation. “Whoa! I’ve always wanted to see one.”

 

“Well, lucky you for going on a date with me today,” Minho says in a sing-song voice and steers them towards the vacant bench. He uses his free hand to brush the nonexistent dust from the surface before gesturing for his pretty boy to sit. His grin widens. “We are about to witness it in real time from the best angle.”

 

“You’re joking,” Taemin laughs as he settles down, refusing to let go of Minho’s hand.

 

And Minho is in no place to complain anyway. He claims the empty seat and leans back with a happy sigh, resting their intertwined fingers on his thigh. “Tell me when the show starts.”

 

The sky darkens further above their heads, effectively dimming the whole atmosphere of the park and with it the couples who sit freely on the steps and benches. Neither Minho nor Taemin speaks a word, yet their fingers continue pressing and fidgeting adoringly, bringing occasional smiles to their faces.

 

Soon enough, the lined up LED tubes decorating the Banpo Bridge flicker momentarily before gleaming brightly. Minho leans over slightly, motioning it to Taemin, whose eyes turn big in anticipation as jets of water pour out from the side, brilliantly illuminated by at least 200 other coloured lights as they revitalise the park.

 

“That… it’s a rainbow,” Taemin breathes out, the mingled disbelief and amazement in his voice palpable, his chest rising and falling steadily. “I-I thought… it was just, you know, a name to attract people.”

 

Minho laughs. He pays the show little attention as his focus is completely stolen by the pretty boy. He watches a thousand facial expressions flit across his face when the coloured lights change again. He almost yelps, both from excitement and giddiness, and Minho has never found it even harder to suppress the need to kiss someone as he did then.

 

“They’re changing again!” Taemin beams as he talks and talks and talks some more. “You’re right about us having the best angle. I swear it was pink here earlier, Minho, look—”

 

The boy stops blabbering away when he notices Minho’s unmoving gaze, that charming, consistent smile, ardent. He blushes scarlet instantly. “Aren’t you enjoying the show…?”

 

“I am,” Minho replies in a heartbeat. Something fundamentally shifts in his heart at the nervous lip-bite, and he garners enough courage to turn and face Taemin properly. His answer is ever so soft as it leaves his mouth. “I am enjoying my personal show.”

 

He is by no means a saint. The growing need to lean in and steal a kiss gets unbearable the longer their eyes stay locked, and Minho tries not to look down at the pink, plump lips in case his patience snaps. He would go for it without regard if it were anyone else.

 

But this is Taemin. 

 

Minho respects him so much that scaring him with irrational moves is the last thing he would ever consider doing. So he swallows the need and brings their clasped hands to his lips, planting a tender kiss on Taemin’s knuckles before glancing at the fountain shower again.

 

“I agree, though. It’s a rainbow. Pretty, rig—”

 

Minho widens his eyes when a pair of warm lips press against his, which completely shuts down the rest of his lame remark about glorifying the nonsensical show and subjects him to the realness of the kiss instead. Taemin hardly moves or initiates anything, simply losing himself in the shared softness and intimacy as the lights cast shadows on their faces, and Minho doesn’t mind. He doesn’t care as long as Taemin is the one who kisses him.

 

“Pretty,” Taemin answers once he pulls back, his face a bright crimson under Minho’s scrutiny. Then, he shifts a little to place their hands on his lap, his head claiming a spot on Minho’s shoulder to mask his embarrassment. “Let’s watch this until it ends.”

 

Minho is only human. The last bits of his resistance crumble to pieces as he dips his head and leaves a long smooch on Taemin’s dampened lips, catching the boy by surprise but detecting a smile on those tiers nonetheless. The happiness irradiates the taller man’s facade.

 

“Let’s watch this together, then.”

 

Six months later

 

“Thank you, and have a nice day!” 

 

Taemin glances at his new worker, who busies himself by waving at the little girl as she accompanies the customer out of the cafe and he chuckles to himself silently. That’s Jinki, and standing close to him is Jonghyun. They are all Kibum’s friends, whom he hired only recently due to a lack of adequate manpower as Taemin decided to direct his focus on the administrative part of the business.

 

He still insists on helping, though. Nothing will come between him and the cats (also the sweet beverages in the cafe, but that’s a public secret by now.) 

 

Over the past few months, many things have changed in Taemin’s life. Besides the obvious, he gained some new friends and got to know his reliable staff, his business also grew exponentially. The cafe itself has been renovated in a way that it has two compartments now: one for cat lovers who wish to enjoy their treats with their feline friends and another one for those with cat allergies who simply want to mellow out with nice drinks and sweet pastries.

 

The latter was purely Minho’s idea. He said the cafe had all the potential to be big, only if Taemin was willing to vary the menu options and make a safe space for those who may not want to befriend those furry cuties. At first Taemin tried to come up with a defence—something like this is a cat cafe, how could they not like cats?—but after some thought, he knew Minho meant well. 

 

After all, it came from someone who is no stranger to the business world. Working in a high-end company must’ve given Minho more insights, and now he was sharing them with Taemin. He would be a fool to reject that suggestion.

 

That explains the variety of coffees and teas on the list, rows of freshly baked pastries sitting in an adjacent display box to that of the desserts, and a pastel blue door at one end that will lead them to the cat corner. 

 

Minho was right. 

 

The cafe had gained so many new customers over time, much more than when Minho was the only loyal regular coming in for an excessively sweet cupcake frappe at his favourite table next to the window.

 

Taemin smiles at the revelation. He owes that man big time for sweeping him off his feet and helping him shape his business for the better. 

 

Speaking of him…

 

“Kibum, I’ll be back. Please look after the cafe.”

 

“Yessir!”

 

Taemin rounds the counter and heads towards his office, which is located in the back of the cafe. It’s not big nor small—just enough for him to do all the corporate work there while dealing with more reserved clients. Gently, he twists the doorknob and pushes the door, a glimpse of what’s inside already coaxing a smile on his face.

 

Lazing on the single couch is his boyfriend Minho, his laptop resting steadily on his lap with Kkoong huddling warmly against his chest, probably deep asleep and spoiled. He must’ve noticed Taemin’s presence because he looks up, a dazzling smile etching on his visage in greeting.

 

“Am I disturbing?” Taemin asks playfully while closing the door behind him, mindful of the noise not to startle the feline awake. He sits next to Minho and rests his head on the broad shoulder like it’s a self-proclaimed spot for comfort. “She is snatching my place.”

 

Minho chuckles at the remark, yet his long fingers never cease the loving caress down the furry’s back, almost on purpose to rile Taemin up. It works like magic when the boy starts pouting furiously and huffs.

 

“Maybe I’m starting to dislike cats now. They are stealing your attention from me.”

 

That’s Minho’s final straw. 

 

He can deal with so much cruelty in this world, but Taemin’s cuteness is beyond lethal. It is single-handedly the best thing Minho has ever come to know, and for a second, he nearly considers making him jealous often just to see more of that pout.

 

But he knows when to stop too. Still snickering, he leans down and kisses Taemin’s forehead lingeringly, the smooching sound resounding as he pulls back. “You insisted that I got the allergy shots weekly for the last six months, baby. What’s with such a fuss now, hm?” He teases while tilting the boy’s chin up, making their eyes meet. “Regretting it?”

 

“I am not,” Taemin mumbles. His nimble fingers curl on Minho’s side, the words growing even softer when he continues. “That’s… just a preparation for you in case we want to live together someday….”

 

The prospect of living together with Minho has crossed Taemin’s mind many times. Sure, he desires a marriage. He knows Minho wants it as well, but they’re still too fresh into the relationship to take another giant leap together. Marriage is no laughing matter.

 

Still, he wonders how it feels to wake up to Minho’s sleeping face on a shared pillow and to fall asleep to his soft hums every night. The spark of domesticity tends to keep a relationship alive. He yearns to experience that.

 

And considering Taemin is a cat papa, Minho first has to make sure he has his allergies under control. The veterinarian said it’s possible for him to build a tolerance towards a cat, so Minho has been spending a lot of time with Kkoong for that reason. He wants to get used to it because cohabitation is his goal too.

 

But now, Kkoong is all over him. She hisses whenever she has to part ways with Minho (which Taemin thinks is very relatable, thank you very much) and goes docile when the older man is within reach. That’s unfair.

 

“Really?” Minho smiles, the pad of his thumb caressing round Taemin’s cheekbone. The boy nods quickly. His pout remains intact. “You didn’t try to set me up with Kkoong or something?”

 

“No way!” Taemin whines. The cat jolts awake, but he couldn’t care less. He juts out his lower lip even more. “I just don’t want you to get sick from being around me since I’m often surrounded by many cats.”

 

Minho coos. This time, he’s the one who lowers the cat down, not paying attention to the resistance before straightening up to cradle Taemin’s face in both hands warmly. His gaze is full of adoration as he speaks.

 

“You’re too cute for your own good, Tae.”

 

There it is again. The fireworks in the pit of Taemin’s stomach, loud, booming and erratic, it turns his ears into a bright, inescapable red. “What do you normally do to…. cute things, then?”

 

“Oh, this.”

 

Minho kisses Taemin squarely, making him squeak in surprise and laugh from the persistent push as he settles on his back on the couch. The taller man hovers over him immediately, lips not separated, and he continues to shower the blushing face with kisses, tickling him with each press.

 

In just a few seconds, Taemin’s humble office is flooded with noises, the thin walls echoing with their mingled laugh and unrestrained love. Taemin can barely process it all, can barely register the happiest aspect of his life as he lives it up to the fullest.

 

But he’s certain of one thing, in a world filled with uncertainties. 

 

As he gazes up at Minho, his fingertips draw invisible lines down the chiselled face and rest lightly on those full lips. He knows Minho was not the only lovesick fool since day one. Despite the malice toward his favourite drink and the terrible lie of hating cats, there’s no way Taemin would ever invalidate his emotions for this man.

 

If anything, it only makes Taemin realise that he’s been in love with Minho from the beginning. It grows so prettily along the way and he feels confident to say this feeling will never fade as long as they are together.

 

Forever.

 

fin.

 

---

A/N: 

hi, 2minners! <3 this was mine for the fest and, honestly? i was pretty darn scared to join (for some reason writing fest just scares me so much) but i saw many unclaimed 2min prompts and i thought like, well, maybe i should give it a try. i've missed writing 2min too, and tada! i birthed this 2minkkoong fic. i had limited time really, but i'm still satisfied with the outcome. it makes me so happy to know people could easily recognise my writing style and/or brands too. 🥺 thank you for making my first experience memorable.

 

hope you enjoyed minho being a wuss (or a wooer!) <3