Taemin knew it. From the moment Wonshik told him that they would have a meeting with the venue’s management of their showcase on Saturday’s afternoon, Taemin knew that it would be a disaster.

It was a disaster two weeks ago when Wonshik decided to make him work on weekend. The memories of him embarrassingly disturbing his kind neighbor early in the morning still embedded in his mind. In addition, he had made the same neighbor waited for the plumber to fix his water, ran to the stores because the need of new water tap for his sink, and did a little cleaning after the mess of the reparation, while all Taemin could do just smiling apologetically that night, as he appeared in front of his neighbor’s house with a box of large pizza in his hands, which they finished less than half an hour because Taemin was starving and his neighbor was simply a big eater. And the dinner was followed by the ice-cream dessert that his neighbor took out from his fridge and a movie night.

It wasn’t different this time.

It was still a disaster.

Taemin cursed—the thing he rarely did—under his breath as he stood under the roof-covered space in front of an empty building near his apartment, looking at the heavy rain that fell unexpectedly on his way to the bus station. Taemin contemplated whether he should just ran to the bus station and attended the meeting in a drenched state, or he should just wait the rain to stop and attended the meeting late. Taemin hated both options, because he had met the management last year—they had decided to held the showcase at the same venue as last year—and most of them had this strict, professional vibes around them. Unfriendly, Taemin concluded in his head at that time.

Taemin honestly never believed in destiny, but he started to question his judgment when his eyes caught the tall figure under a yellow umbrella, walking towards him because for sure he had seen Taemin even before Taemin laid eyes on him.

How the hell did this man always appear in an unpleasant time, at an unpleasant situation of Taemin’s life? Like when he was forced to transfer at high school, ended up with no friends until this man came. Or when he was annoyed by Jongin’s persistent confession, until Jongin left because he appeared. Or when he had no water at his house, and he—or precisely his bathroom—was just perfectly there to the rescue.

“Taemin, what are you doing here?” the said man asked as soon as he was close enough with Taemin. He closed his umbrella as he joined Taemin under the covered space.

“Hi, Minho. I don’t expect to see you here,” Taemin smiled, a little shy, and felt a little stupid because why would he feel shy around Minho. He had no reason to be shy around him, although his hair was a little messy right now because he had ran a little in the rain while looking for a shelter. Yes, he had no reason at all. Taemin told himself that, but his hand still moved to tidy his hair a bit.

“I was on my way home from the nearby store,” Minho explained, and he asked again, “What are you doing here, Taemin?”

“I have a meeting,” Taemin unconsciously pouted by the thought of the bloody weekend meeting. “And I was on the way to the bus station to go there, but it suddenly rain—God, it is summer, how can it rain so heavily like this?—so...yeah, I am stuck here.”

Minho looked amused. Maybe he, just like Taemin, felt that the fact misfortune came upon Taemin everytime he had a weekend meeting was ridiculous.

“Why do you take bus, anyway? Where is your car?”

“It broke down. Again. I should just dispose it, really,” Taemin said, being serious. His car was Taesun’s old car. Taemin was never interested in cars and he wasn’t a very good driver. He even didn’t have a thought of having a car if Taesun didn’t inherit his old car to him.

Minho laughed hearing Taemin’s answer. Taemin thought he might be biased, but Minho seemed to love his joke very much—although he actually didn’t joke this time—because Minho always laughed, chuckled, or smiled when talking to Taemin. Taemin remembered Minho didn’t laugh this much when they were dating before, though he always laughed a lot while teasing Taemin, something Minho loved to do. Taemin wondered if Minho’s sense of humor had changed a bit.

“Let’s go back, I’ll just drive you there.”

Taemin quickly shook his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I’ll just wait till the rain stop.”

“From the look of it, it won’t stop anytime soon, Tae.”

“It’s fine,” Taemin took out his cellphone. “I’ll just contact my boss and—“ Taemin trailed off, frowned when he saw the text from Wonshik, who completely freaked out because Taemin was late, while Taemin was supposed to bring most of the meeting’s material as the showcase’s event leader.

Minho—unconsciously—peeked a bit because Taemin’s face had changed into serious mode. He didn’t see much but he thought he saw a lot of capslocks.

Taemin took off his eyes from his phone when Minho pushed his umbrella to Taemin.

“Take it. You’re late, right?” Minho said.

“No, Min. I—“

“It’s okay, I am on my way home anyway so getting drenched a bit is not a big deal,” Minho smiled as he walked backwards into the rain, waved at Taemin and ran off before Taemin could stop him.

Taemin stared at Minho’s back for a while, before his eyes fell on the umbrella in his hand.

Taemin closed his door as he threw his shoes carelessly. It was almost 10 p.m. The meeting had ended before 7 but Wonshik kindly—or not so kind for Taemin because he was such an introvert and just wanted to spend time alone at his house at weekend—treated them dinner. The dinner was followed by a round of drinks, and although Taemin didn’t drink because he was a light drinker and a drunk Taemin wasn’t so nice according to Wonshik and others, Taemin was forced to join them.

Taemin flopped on the couch, feeling very tired. Actually, Taemin planned to buy dinner for Minho to thank him. Taemin guessed he would just do it tomorrow. He played with his phone. He wanted to text Minho to ask him to eat together tomorrow, his treat, but he realized he didn’t have Minho’s number. Yes, he did give his number to Minho, but Minho didn’t call him that day. He scolded himself in his mind. He should ask for Minho’s number too that day.

Sighing, Taemin got up and made his way to the bathroom.

A loud ringing woke Taemin up from his sleep. Taemin reached out to the source of the sound—his cellphone. He blinked away his sleepiness, wondering—a little mad—who the hell did call him in the middle of night like this? It was already a little past 2 p.m., Taemin grumbled internally.

The fact that an unknown number calling him made Taemin more annoyed, but he still picked up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Taemin?” a familiar voice followed by a cough chased away Taemin’s sleepiness completely.

“Minho? Is this Minho?”

“Tae—sorry I—“ Minho coughed again. “Do you have fever reducer? Or anything?”

Hearing the very weak and sick voice made Taemin sit up quickly and instantly make his way to his medicine’s shelf. He put the phone between his shoulder and ear as he rummaged through the shelf, looking for the medicine. “Minho, you okay? I have some here. I’ll send it to you now.”

“No, I’ll get—“ another cough, “—it”

But Taemin had already in front of his door with a lot of medicine in his hands—just in case Minho needed another types. “No, I am out already,” Taemin said as he walked towards Minho’s door. “I’m in front of your house.”

“Can you get up, Minho?” Taemin asked softly, but worry could be heard clearly.

Minho’s voice sounded so weak, how could Taemin not worry?

“Sorry, Tae—can you just—my passcode is—“

“Your mom’s birthday,” Taemin cut him off as he entered the passcode. He had speculated this, because just like Taemin who loved to use his birthday for his every passcode, Minho also loved to use his mother’s birthday for his.

Taemin closed his phone as he entered the house. The light was still on. It seemed that Minho was too sick to care about the light or anything.

Hearing a sound of cough from one of the bedroom, Taemin quickly entered it. The light was also still on there, and Minho was lying helplessly on his bed, covered tightly on a blanket.

“Taemin?” Minho called, his eyes were half-open.

“Yes, Min. It’s me,” Taemin sat on the edge of the bed as he placed his palm over Minho’s forehead to check his temperature, and he went shock instantly. “God, you’re burning!”

“I don’t know. I just feel cold,” Minho said through his gritted teeth as he shivered.

“Wait, okay? I’ll get you water.”

Taemin went out and came back with a cup of warm water. He helped Minho to sit up a little. He feed Minho the medicine he brought and brought the cup closed to Minho’s lips.

“You should drink it all. You should drink a lot of water,” Taemin pushed Minho to finish all of it.

After Minho was done, he laid back to the bed. Taemin quickly adjusted his blanket.

“Tae, thanks,” Minho weakly said.

“Sleep,” Taemin patted his hair softly. Minho slowly closed his eyes, the medicine made him drowsier.

Minho was soon fell asleep, but it seemed the fever made him had nightmare and he wasn’t able to sleep soundly. Taemin sighed as he watched Minho sleep. He finally got up, took the empty cup and went to the kitchen. He look for a big bowl or anything, and quickly took it out as soon as he found it. He filled it with ice and cold water. He also filled again the empty cup with warm water, in case Minho woke up again and felt thirsty. He brought all of it back to Minho’s room, along with a small towel he found.

Taemin took a seat on the floor beside Minho’s bed. He soaked the towel with cold water and place it over Minho’s forehead. He patiently watched Minho squirmed in his sleep. He waited till the towel wasn’t cold anymore, to soak it with cold water again, and put it back on Minho’s forehead. He did it over and over again, hoping it would help to bring down Minho’s fever.

Hugging his legs to his chest, Taemin placed his chin on top of his knees. His eyes never left Minho, who slowly stopped squirming and seemed to finally be able to sleep peacefully as his fever went down.

Taemin felt a lot of things ran through his heart. Guilt, because Minho must get his fever from the time he got drenched in the rain this afternoon. Worry, because Minho’s fever was very high, yes, it went down but Taemin could still feel the hotness when he touched Minho’s forehead. On top of all, he also felt the tightness in his chest. And a little pain. It was as if Taemin’s old wound was reopening.

“Why do you always make it so easy?” Taemin whispered. “Why is it always too easy to fall in love with you?”

A very short update because I should have gone to sleep but I had a very bad day and writing comfort me, so I stayed up to write this.

I am not really coherent right now, so maybe I will come to edit later if I find mistakes.

XOXO