Gentle sunbeams peeked in through the slits of closed curtains, lighting the otherwise dark room with streaks of warm and domestic orange. The morning went by without a beep from the alarm clock. It contributed to the peaceful silence that blanketed both men underneath the duvets.

Taemin was the first to wake up. His eyelids slid open, laziness evident in his glazed eyes as he stared at the opposite wall blankly. It was his bedroom. Right, great. But how did he get there? He was at the beach yesterday, was he not? The manager was with him, too. So, how did he end up in the bedroom again?

He barely had another moment of reprieve to question himself before the memories hit him like a firetruck. The series of events last night flashed behind his eyes like a movie. 

They went to the beach, Minho confessed, they kissed, Minho him open, he Minho off, and then they had like crazy rabbits all night. 

Oh my ing God.

Bright scarlet ignited across Taemin’s face. He almost jumped off the bed when he felt a strong arm curled around his midriff, a solid chest pressed firmly against his back with slow breaths fanning his nape. Slowly, he tilted his head, confirming that it was indeed Minho hugging him close in his deep slumber.

The scarlet intensified, now creeping down Taemin’s neck as he stared at the manager’s calm, sleeping form. His chiselled face was all relaxed, tension nowhere to be found on his forehead, and Taemin had never felt a wave this strong to kiss someone awake.

And if they were both conscious, the younger would’ve gagged at this, but man, Minho was truly a godsend. It was borderline illegal how he still looked attractive without doing anything save for breathing and, well, cuddling him. He bit down a sigh of contentment, though the lazy fond smile was apparent.

He probably had taken an interest in this resort manager more than intended.

“Enjoying your morning view?”

Taemin blinked, startled by the voice. His eyes flew wide when Minho popped one open, a lopsided grin gracing upon dried full lips. 

“Silence means yes. I don’t blame you; you should get used to this,” he rasped before tightening his arms around Taemin’s slender waist. The pad of his thumb the faint bulge on Taemin’s lower abdomen, which alerted the younger that they were still intimately joined.

“D-don’t flatter yourself. I was… I was just looking,” Taemin grunted, but Minho only cooed, and Taemin really wanted to break free out of embarrassment. “You were drooling.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” the answer erupted quickly, way too affectionately, and Minho hummed humourlessly. Taemin grimaced at that. “Yeah, lots of it.”

“Don’t care. My boyfriend will have to learn to accept me in any way.”

. That didn’t help the blush that already adorned Taemin’s cheeks. Worse now, it baited a smile out of him, too, in which the younger was quick to tug downward in a hopeless attempt to hide it from the ever-so-knowing Minho.

“You like it, don’t you? Being called my boyfriend?” He teased, smugness dripping in his voice alongside the brazen smirk, before fitting his face in the crook of Taemin’s neck to inhale the faint vanilla and baby powder scent.

“You’re back to being a narcissist,” Taemin replied while trying to appear stern. His self-control crumbled when Minho started nibbling on the soft lobe of his ear. “I-I need to shower. Let me go. I was supposed to check out today.”

“ checking out,” Minho grumbled indignantly.

The fuss made Taemin laugh at least, his heart leaping from the overexpressed vulnerability. He shook his head no, however.

“I need to go, Minho. C’mon, let me—ah.”

A hand flew to his mouth, silencing the noise when Minho gyrated his hips in an experimental circle. His breaths stayed hot against Taemin’s sensitised nape, not at all helping his situation there, caged in a pair of broad arms, a hardening easing its way in and out of his hole lazily. 

Taemin wanted to tell Minho to bugger off because , this felt so good that if he didn’t stop it now, he wouldn’t be able to do it ever. But the smallest part of his brain (the one that wasn’t completely fried after being ed into oblivion into the morning) had enough rationale to snap him back to reality. A few queries popped up to guide.

What was it that he had to do, again?

Right. Check out, go to work—not sating this -centric maniac Taemin called his boyfriend on a weekday. 

Excellent. How was he going to do it?

First, he had to free himself from this vice-like grip. Second, elbowing might hurt, but that was probably the most effective, so—

“Stop brainstorming ideas,” Minho crooned while pulling Taemin’s waist towards his hips, growling low in his throat from the tightened heat. His fingers roamed up to find the perky s and began rolling them alternately, amused by the tiny noises his little lover let out at the ministration. “I have a better idea to fill up your leisure time.”

“There is n…no—hngh,” Taemin bit down on his lip. “No such thing as leisure time, so stop ing ing me and let me shower.”

Minho’s expression softened when he flipped them over. He’d enjoyed the blush game so much these days that waking up to seeing it felt unreal. Was it this fun to be in love? He couldn’t recall the last time his chest felt like erupting from the mere bat of someone’s eyelashes, but here he was, being a lovesick fool with his buried deep in the owner of his heart.

“One more round,” Minho ended up saying, somehow hoping that Taemin missed the brief stupid smile he had on his face. “I’ll bathe with you right after.”

“No way!” Taemin shrieked with terror, pushing himself up to press one hand on Minho’s chest. He blushed again from the contact, though it worked to stop the latter from ploughing into him instantly. “Drop this chivalrous act because you’re just trying to bend me over the bathtub and—”

He stopped talking upon noticing the benign smile on Minho’s face. It was not entirely pure, for sure. Geez, it was Choi Minho they were talking about. If anything, Taemin should be scared to hear his response, knowing how unexpectedly slick he could be, especially at times like this.

“Ah,” Minho tutted. His tongue slid across the outline of his upper teeth, and he smirked wider as Taemin gulped. “I’m caught. As you said, I should probably stop playing the gallant gentleman when my plans are as clear as day,” and he leaned down, mouth an inch away from Taemin’s gaping one. 

He would drop a peck. Hell, Minho would be willing to resign his current job, pass the resort to Lea or whatever, so long as he could kiss Taemin all his life. But this brat had the guts to tell him off very early in the morning whilst clenching down on him. How could someone be this complex? The universe was perplexed, too.

So, no, Minho didn’t leave a peck. He pried Taemin’s lips open and darted the tip of his tongue out instead, watching in amusement as the helpless man fought the need to reach out with his own and tangled the wet muscles in sloppy, moist dances. Taemin loved tongue-, anyway.

“Let’s just pretend I was not being a wooer and take me as you’re meant to do, hmm?”

“I did not mean it that way—ah!”

***

As promised, they did it once in bed, one more time in the luxurious bathroom, and for the love of God, Taemin would simply give up on walking if Minho insisted on another round.

Thankfully, the other man was not that greedy. He was too caught up with the melancholy feelings of having to separate ways with Taemin later, and honestly? The younger was about the same. They only got themselves a taste of heated love for a day. It was only reasonable for them to yearn for more time together.

But work, as always, was a pain in the arse. That one time, when Minho pulled out and assured him to remain in bed as he went to prepare their warm bath, Taemin managed to gather the leftover strength in working his limbs to take his phone. The brightly lit phone showed five unread messages and three missed calls, all coming from his colleagues.

It was difficult, and deep inside, the worries gnawed at Taemin’s guts. Being in love was all fun and games until they had to succumb to their essential responsibilities as adults. 

“Don’t go,” Minho whispered against Taemin’s hair. He had Taemin seated on his lap, pliant and attentive, as he buttoned up the younger man’s shirt on his behalf.

It was so ing embarrassing that Taemin wanted to punch himself in the face and induce numbness, but he had his romantic side, too. He loved being taken care of like this, so what was so wrong about making your boyfriend—the taller, stronger, and overall bigger boyfriend—do the work, right?

After all, he had to do something to compensate for the burning pain in Taemin’s rump.

“I have to—”

“No, you don’t.” Minho interrupted, littering more kisses to the hickeys on the milky white neck. “Give me your boss’ phone number. I’ll tell him that you’re stranded somewhere with a very attractive man of your standing, so all you want to do is nourish the love and say off—ow, ow! Ow!”

The taller man winced when he failed to dodge Taemin’s well-calculated deck. He hit Minho’s head right with his knuckles, not hard enough to cause him a concussion but solid enough for an instant retreat in surrender. Dammit, this boy’s a certified boxer, for real.

“I indeed found a very attractive man of my standing, but I’m so not going to say off to my boss, Minho,” Taemin squinted before kissing the exact part where Minho got hit, much to his bliss. “I need to go, and you need to understand that.”

A few moments passed, and both lovers just stared at each other in the eyes. Minho opened his mouth several times, the rebuttals ever so fresh and ready to make points, but in the end, he decided that the other was right. This was not some classic romantic film where one would drop their absolute everything just to be with their significant other forever.

On second thought, though, Minho would do it. He didn’t mind ditching e for Taemin if that could promise a lifetime supply full of his pretty boy’s cheeky remarks, beautiful eye smiles, wheezy laughter, breathtaking kisses, and earth-shattering .

Minho cleared his throat. “Fine, then. I understood it from the start, you know? I was just saying,” he tried to reason out, rubbing up and down Taemin’s clothed abdomen comfortingly. 

“Mm-hm, right. The fuss was absolutely natural, babe.”

The answer was encased with mischievousness that Minho chose to ignore for the sake of his pride and sanity. He continued, “I will walk you down, then, because I’m sweet like that. Would you like a cuppa before leaving, lovey?”

“No, thank you,” Taemin replied with a tender kiss on Minho’s lips. “I’m way over time.”

Minho looked at him solemnly, then, after a minute, faked another exaggerated sigh. “God, you’re just so eager to leave my side, aren’t you?”

His words made Taemin laugh so hard that his eyes watered, dainty fingers clutching on Minho’s forearm for leverage as the giggles shook his entire body. The older man watched