A/N: Okay, I know I said ch31 was going to be this amazing coming together of 2min, but as I started writing it, it was clear that it needed a transitional buffer to guide the story first. Hence, this unrated chapter. But don’t worry, ch__ will soon come in all its amazingness, as promised. I have company staying with me for the next few weeks, so it might take me a bit to get to it, but I will ASAP. Thanks for reading and commenting and being all-around awesome. 

Mucho love, UM   

PS: Photobucket was being a , so I couldn't really make a proper header for this chapter, but I figured you guys would get over it.  :D

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        The sun rose earlier than usual that morning, or so it seemed as Minho watched the beams begin to spill through the windowpanes with bright determination. He had already been awake for sometime, which was unusual enough, being that he was capable of sleeping well past noon; but what was really unusual about this morning was that he only had to turn his head to the left ever-so-slightly to see that small face resting on his shoulder—Taemin’s face. Taemin’s beautiful, soft face. In the morning glow, he looked angelic. As always. Sleeping peacefully despite their conditions, despite the fact that they’d been sitting on a hard bathroom floor for hours, their backs resting against the cold wall. But none of that showed on his angel’s face. None at all.

            He could have watched him sleep forever, the gentle rise and fall of the cadence of his breath. Like this, Minho had no interest in sleep. How could he sleep? How could he do anything but stare, but marvel at what had taken place between them? He was still in awe of how all of it happened—the odds of them talking online incognito, the chances of them meeting here, of being locked in this room, alone, overnight. Was there some sort of cosmic cupid to blame? A greater force at work pulling them together? Really, Minho didn’t care who the culprit was or what the explanation, he only cared that he was sitting this way, at last, with the very person he grew to love as the years forged them together.

            Mutually in love? It made sense as much as it didn't. He'd always had strange feelings for Taemin—had always been especially protective, territorial... had always found him most special. Most lovely. The odds that he, himself, had feelings to match? What it meant for their careers—well, they’d have to figure that out together. Right now, he didn’t want to be SHINee’s Minho or SHINee’s Taemin. He didn’t even want to be “2Min.” He just wanted to be themselves: open and honest, and without pretense or celebrity. He wanted to be in love. And for that to be enough...

            He heard a heavy sigh just then and watched as Taemin’s lips parted, the soft breath escaping his mouth and releasing into the air. What was he dreaming of, he wondered, and would he regret in the morning the things that happened at night?

            Minho shifted one of his legs, folding his ankles together. The movement momentarily disrupted the sleeper, so that Minho had to ease his head back down again, his hair as he settled back on his shoulder. A few seconds passed before he felt Taemin’s legs twitching; he’d fallen fast asleep once again. He closed his eyes and placed one of his hands over Taemin’s, lightly grazing his index finger with a solitary thumb, then gave one long sigh to end the chaos of thoughts, questions, and concerns racing through his mind before falling back asleep himself.

* * *

            It was Taemin who heard it first, the strange grating noise of metal on metal. He didn’t move immediately; not after realizing where he was, and who he was with.

            Hyung...

             Taemin continued to watch him for a moment more, his head bent down and mouth partly ajar. He looked so uncomfortable. He’d drooled a bit on Minho’s shoulder and for some reason felt embarrassed by it. How was it that Taemin had slept so well? Minho had offered his shoulder as a pillow the entire night...

            His hand was nestled protectively under Minho’s long fingers. He blushed. Things were so weird now, so different. What did it all mean? What were they going to do now?

            Taemin suddenly thought of his other hyungs, Kibum and Jonghyun. It was obvious that they had feelings for each other. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad to have feelings for Minho after all. They’d make it work somehow... they had to. How could they just go about their lives as if it hadn't happened? Taemin had always felt strange feelings for Minho—had always been especially loyal, dependant... had always found him most special. Most lovely. The odds that he, himself, had feelings to match? What it meant for their careers—well, they’d have to figure that out together. Right now, he didn’t want to be SHINee’s Taemin or SHINee’s Minho. He didn’t even want to be “2Min.” He just wanted to be themselves: open and honest, and without pretense or celebrity. He wanted to be in love. And for that to be enough...

            The screeching noise got a little louder, shaking Taemin from his thoughts.

            What is that? he wondered, and just then he realized that his phone was vibrating in his backpack, which he now tried to remove as stealthily as possible so he wouldn’t wake Minho, keeping one hand in place and only shifting his body enough to lean over to reach it.

             A text: 

            Superman comes to save the day~! Can he still be a man if he’s not super?

            Onew.

            This was clearly fun for him.

            Where are you? Taemin text back.

            Where you are.

            How did you get in here?

            The museum’s been open for an hour. How long are you guys going to... sleep?

            Taemin blushed again. He only then realized the time—9:04. They’d been sleeping quite awhile.

            The door is locked! he wrote back, only to receive a mysterious: Is it...? o^.^o  in reply.

            Then he saw the gap between the door and its frame widen, and saw Jinki’s head peek through only slightly. He was smiling, and chuckling to himself. It was only then that he realized that he Minho’s hand was still placed atop his. Why w