The sky is dark, littered with rumbling black clouds, and they’re walking aimlessly in the middle of nowhere. Minho has both of Taemin’s hands in his own, because recently Taemin’s been clawing furiously at his arms, and Minho suffers too much whenever he sees the dried blood staining Taemin’s perfect, milky forearms.

They’re walking along a nameless street, basking in the presence of the other, there’s hidden feelings starting to surface but they say nothing. They say nothing because in this moment they’re holding hands and Minho’s chin is resting on Taemin’s shoulder and Taemin swears he’ll die if Minho lets go of him. He revels in the feel of Minho covering him, clutching on to him, wanting him.

A car pulls up right next to them; it’s a dusty white color with a broken passenger seat door. The woman that’s been haunting Taemin’s dreams slams the door shut, giving Taemin a tight lipped smile.

Minho feels Taemin tense up, there’s an unusual stillness to the air as the three wait for something to happen, for anything to happen. Minho gives Taemin’s hand a soft squeeze, trying not to smile at himself as Taemin loosens up in his hold, leaning back onto Minho as if he wanted to melt into the elder.

“Taemin.” The woman says firmly.

“Where is he?” Taemin demands, eyes hardening, hands shaking.

“Taemin-”

“Where’s Yoogeun?” Taemin nearly screams, clasping Minho’s hands tightly.

The woman sighs, crossing her arms around her chest as she leans on the car, looking up at Taemin lazily. They have similar mannerisms Minho notes, they both have this steely, determined look in their eyes, as if their eyes were on fire and they wanted nothing more than to see the other burn.

“He’s safe. I need you to do me a favor.” The woman says, tongue in cheek, eyes boring holes into the ground.

“I don’t owe you .” Taemin growls.

The woman’s head snaps up, her eyes narrowing into slits before her face softens just the slightest.

“Do it for Yoogeun.” The woman responds, gentler this time.

“I filed a report against your father, I need you to speak in court.” The woman continues, eyes glazing over as she emptily stares at Taemin.

Taemin’s quiet for a moment, tracing little patterns on Minho’s hand before he speaks up again, gently and almost brokenly, sounding like a child who’s lost.

“Why didn’t you take me with you?”

The woman takes a deep breath, letting it out harshly, shoulders visibly sagging.

“I-I couldn’t.”

“You could’ve. You know you could’ve. You know what? I’m surprised your drunk came all the way back here, I haven’t seen you sober since-”

“I couldn’t because-because you’re not my son.” The woman interrupts harshly, chest heaving up and down as she glared at Taemin.

Taemin went completely still in Minho’s arms, looking at the woman before him confusedly.

“W-what?” Taemin barely whispered.

“Your mother was a , and you were nothing more than a mistake.”

Taemin was shaking now, Minho could feel the little tremors that ran through Taemin’s back, he could hear the little sniffles Taemin tried so hard to mask.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you have to leave.” Minho says, looking coldly at the woman.

“I need him to speak in-”

“And he will. But right now you need to leave.” Minho says, cutting her off before softly pulling on Taemin’s hands, walking him in the other direction.

They’re walking in the middle of nowhere and Taemin’s drowning in the oceans that spill from his eyes, and he has his head buried in Minho’s chest and he’s screaming now, his shrieks claw at his throat, raw and angry, ripping themselves from Taemin’s broken lips.

And Minho’s walking with him, silent and ever patient, hands working on wiping away the raindrops that streak across Taemin’s hollow cheeks. Taemin’s laughing now, saying how he’s so incredibly happy he’s not related to that useless . But Minho knows he’s lying when Taemin tries to convince him that his tears are from laughing to hard.

Eventually after the grand explosion of a dying star, there’s nothing left but dust and ashes and so Taemin lets himself be carried by strong branches who were always there, even in the worst conditions.

Taemin’s feet are dangling, softly hitting the back of Minho’s legs, his breath is ghosting over Minho’s neck, and the sky is turning into black. The beautiful fireworks of color that danced with the clouds were nothing more than just a memory, because sometimes even the sky has to restart itself, so it can begin once again.

They reach Minho’s house shortly, they break in through the second story window, using that trusty old oak tree as a ladder. Taemin lands in an awkward heap on the carpet floor but that’s okay because Minho’s already helping him up and the room smells exactly like Minho’s jacket and it’s so vaguely strange and familiar at the same time.

Taemin flops onto the bed, burying his head into Minho’s pillow, discreetly trying to soak up everything that is Minho. But Minho, as always, notices and finds it so impossibly endearing that he almost calls Taemin out on it. Except they can’t talk because there’s still screaming downstairs and Minho doesn’t want to risk it, so he lays down next to Taemin, pulling the covers over them and Taemin’s smiling. It’s a soft smile, cracked the slightest bit around the edges, but it’s genuine. He lets Minho kiss him softly on the tip of his nose, on his forehead, on his chin, he lets Minho rearrange him and put him back together in any way he pleases.

Taemin throws his leg over Minho’s waist, and they shift even closer and Minho’s so warm, and they’re in his room and Taemin wants to cry all over again. And when he does Minho’s still there, wiping away Taemin’s tears with the back of his hand. And really it’s too much, far too much and way too little all at the same time. So Taemin risks it, he doesn’t care-not anymore, and he moves his head forward slightly, lips slowly dragging against Minho’s cheek until they land against Minho’s soft and plush mouth.

And Minho goes into a state of shock, and he wants to shove Taemin off, to stop whatever is happening right now because then they’ll end. They’ll end horribly and Minho can’t bear the thought of being swallowed up by gigantic black holes, they’ll end up screaming and yelling and no, they can’t be, they can’t grow. So Minho pushes Taemin off so violently that Taemin ends up falling off the bed and slumping down to the floor.

Maybe if he digs out the roots maybe the tree will die, maybe this crazy dream Taemin has won’t ever happen, maybe they can still be what they once were, letting the little seedlings stay as is forever, in a standstill, freezing time.

But Taemin’s looking up at him with eyes holding a mixture of worry and hurt, eyebrows furrowed and mind cloudy. Minho’s breaths were coming out short harsh pants, and he clutches at his head, realizing that he’s a bit of an idiot.

Because really they always were. Like how stars were always bright and brilliant before someone caged them in constellations, like how tiny universes exist in even bigger universes, like how there is no Taemin without Minho and vice versa.

And so Minho slides down to the floor, taking both of Taemin’s hands and playing with his fingers, because he really can’t bear to look at him right now, not after the same hands that held him impossibly close, pushed him farther away at the same time. Not when the moon is lighting the tips of Taemin’s knuckles but the rest is in shadows-except for his eyes, his eyes that held glittery constellations and tiny universes and now they’re showing Minho’s reflection and everything seems like it’s too much again.

Minutes tick by and there’s the faintest sound of a slamming door and the rev of a car engine and Taemin whispers,

“I’m sorry”

And Minho shakes his head, gathering up Taemin in his arms before throwing both of them onto the bed, they bounce a bit and the bed slightly creaks under them and Minho hovers over Taemin, pressing a sweet kiss against Taemin’s forehead.

“Minho, you don’t have to-”

“I like you.” Minho whispers, all too fast and all too nervous.

And Taemin’s smiling, he’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. He’s smiling and Minho can’t help but smile back with red tinged cheeks and nervous hands. And they fall into each other, weariness trickling from their lips as their eyes finally close.

Taemin’s arm is clutching onto Minho’s shoulder, and his legs are clinging onto Minho’s waist, but that’s okay because Minho’s arms are tightly around Taemin’s back and his hair is tickling Taemin’s neck.

And in the morning Taemin decides it’s the best sleep he’s ever gotten, because there’s this bubbly feeling in his stomach and stars in his eyes and really there’s nothing like waking up to sunshine streaming through the blinds, and the sound of a deep baritone calling out your name.

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Happy 2min anniversary guys (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧