Choi Residence, Burlington, Vermont

Taemin aged 17; Minho aged 19

—

Taemin sat haphazardly at Minho's desk, his face flushed a deep scarlet and his chest heaving with heavy breaths, hyperaware that Minho's mom was less than three feet away and his pants were still fully ped. He tried to angle his body away from the door the best he could, swearing under his breath as he looked at the mismatched buttons on the front of his shirt. In his hand, he unknowingly gripped a pencil upside down, too panicked to climb off of Minho and get into this chair for all the details to be exactly right.

"Are you sure, honey? I helped Minho with his essay there, and he got accepted. I'm not sure if it's easier for transfers, though. What about a snack to give your hardworking brain some fuel? Don't feel like you have to be overly polite, especially since Minho isn't in a position to fetch you anything. I want this to feel like your home for your stay here," Minho's mom explained. Taemin was beginning to understand where Minho's wordiness came from.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Choi. I promise," Taemin answered in an uneven voice. They'd finished the essay 15 minutes ago and were in the middle of celebrating when Minho's mom checked up on them.

"Yeah, we're good, Mom. You're making him uncomfortable," Minho piped up from where he reclined on the bed, his leg bandaged in a cast from the foot to the hip.

"Well, alright then. Minho, sweetie, are you feeling okay? You look like you're running a fever! Are you overheating under that blanket? Let me move it for you—"

"No!" Minho shouted. "No thank you, Mom. I—I'm okay. I broke my leg, not my arms. I can move it myself. Go now, please." Silently mouthing the words, he added, "You're embarrassing me."

"Okay, okay. Let me know when you're hungry for dinner. Your father won't be back until late again, so I'll just order a pizza or something for us three."

"Thanks, Mrs. Choi," Taemin said politely as Minho shooed her out of the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, Minho and Taemin sighed like untied balloons from all the tension.

"Go lock that, would you? Last thing either of us need is my mother to stumble in and see my in your mouth. You got a little bold there, Taeminnie. In my parents' house?"

Taemin clicked the lock, fixing his shirt as he crossed back over to Minho. "You weren't complaining when my lips were on you," Taemin teased. "You're lucky you finished in time to hear her coming up the stairs."

"I'm lucky, alright. Come here," Minho said, holding out his arms for Taemin to fall into as he crawled back onto the bed. He flipped the blanket to cover both of them, exposing for a moment his disheveled boxers and cast that had Taemin's name written on it nearly 100 times.

Taemin hummed, kissing Minho's neck with tiny pecks while his hand wandered down to rest on Minho's bare thigh. "I don't really mind. She's sweet. It's kinda thrilling trying not to get caught, like camp all over again."

"You're crazy, Taemin. What am I gonna do with you?" Minho said, running his hands over Taemin's back affectionately.

"I mean, if you're looking for suggestions, I've been daydreaming about a couple of things this past year."

"Taemin, we're not gonna have full-on with my parents here."

Taemin smacked him lightly on the chest. "I wasn't talking about that! I'm not really passionate about my first time being in your childhood bed."

"What, is this not y enough for you?"

"Hyung, you still have Star Wars sheets."

"And?"

"Shut up," Taemin ordered playfully, snuggling closer to Minho. "Give me a kiss."

Minho easily ceded to that demand, and after getting the kiss he craved, Taemin settled his head against Minho's shoulder and yawned. They'd had a year's worth of hormones and desires to work through, and going at it every second alone they could get had worn Taemin out. 

On top of that, Taemin had been working tirelessly on a new round of college applications. 

In May, in the middle of a match, Minho's leg got broken in two places, and his California dreams collapsed around him. Though his injury would likely heal before the next season had begun, Minho would never be able to play at the caliber he once did, and there was no chance at continuing on at the professional level. Since it happened on the field, the school officials worked hard to help continue his studies, probably more out of hope he wouldn't sue rather than any actual guilt. Still, it was the least they could do after taking away his full-ride scholarship.Through his connections, Minho was easily accept