AN - 12/08/14 | This chapter had taken me a while to post up and even now I'm sorry for it. So for this chapter, I focused on Minho's feelings--which I'm sure we all knew would turn out like this. It feels rushed even though it's taken nine chapters but at least they progressed and grew instead of just, like y'know switching off altogether, if he was stubborn enough to do that.

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Even if Minho tried to hide the smiles that appeared on his face quite frequently--which came from being comfortable around Taemin now, he just couldn’t. 

It proved to be…nearly impossible enough.   Minho wouldn’t say that he was feeling high up in the clouds or that he wanted to puke rainbows and butterflies--No, because he wasn’t gay. There are exceptions to being attracted to things without actually changing your status, aren’t there?   Only two answers kept him awake at night; either he had lost his mind along the way while he was moving in to a new apartment, or…   He indeed was actually infatuated with Lee Taemin!   Which ever answer proved true, Minho could tell that he had changed ever since he went ice-skating with his neighbour. And no matter how odd or unusual the difference was, he still appreciated how he was able to feel things other than sadness, regret and heartache.   These new feelings inside of Minho could go either way for him, so he had comprehended at some point. He could be completely content about hanging out with the bubbly carefree blonde one moment, and he even found himself agreeing to his ideas lately (though he did draw lines at the crazy ideas). But then he could be a total mess during the other moments; those that sometimes involved their hands briefly meeting, their eyes drifting off in to each other’s and those times where Minho could actually expect his hearth to burst out of his chest,   As cliché as it sounds, he couldn’t act normal around Taemin but he also couldn’t act normal without him--both situations could do a number on him. Thus, Minho couldn’t summarise all of his feelings in to one conclusion yet. Although he did manage to think of a few things, he didn’t want to go off down that road. After all, he had only recently been torn away from his former girlfriend (who he tried not to think much about but whenever he left Taemin, she wandered back in to his head) so he wasn’t ready to jump in to anything new at the moment.   A feeling of nostalgia was slowly crawling in to Minho, because having feelings for someone all over again--whether clear or complicated--felt a lot like day he moved out of his parents home and in to his own apartment, to start his own life.   It was all new.   And he happened to still be getting used to it all; university life, paying for his own stuff, having a friendly yet out of control neighbour, staring at said neighbour’s bare che--wait, what?!   Okay, so he wouldn’t include that last one in the list.   Minho had enough trouble being himself these days without Taemin-- from the waist up and sporting a pair of fitting red shorts--flashing himself around.   Perhaps Minho should’ve re-thought today’s plans. But it wasn’t in any way Minho’s fault that he had been kidnapped and taken to a local swimming pool. And it also wasn’t his fault that his clothes were snatched from his body the moment he stepped foot in to the male changing rooms--a place where anyone could become a victim to the crazy blonde’s games. Taemin even attempted to free Minho of his boxers but ended up sulking when he was told to go away or face a charge of attempted .   Taemin sulked for a long time--though he stopped the moment he saw the fruits of his effortless patience; which happened to be Minho sporting a nice y pair of black shorts/trunks that stopped above his knees. And Taemin thanked all the good things in the world and the holy lord for giving him the pleasure of seeing how nicely those shorts ‘sculpted’ Minho perfectly-!   “What are you staring at?!” Minho gawks, practically blushing once he catches where the blonde’s eyes are positioned. He feels insecure and nervous under his gaze and goes as far as trying to cross one leg over the other and turn away. “Yah, quit looking at me and swim already!”   “Excuse me, it’s not my fault you’re y.” Taemin tells him, innocently clearing his name yet still looking (and even viewing from different angles). “And besides, you’ve no room to complain when you’ve been looking at me the entire time--not that I mind.”   Minho said nothing but just blushed, knowing that he’d been caught red-faced and couldn’t justify himself anymore.   Taemin truly didn’t mind being stared at, least of all by Choi Minho. He was already used to the looks he often got when he walked outside his apartment just because of pretty-doll face that was the envy of others just as much as it was the lust.   And he wouldn’t have minded if Minho had continued; that way he would be able to understand him a little more.   The university student didn’t go swimming often, so he had childishly believed that he had forgotten how to swim and had to be coaxed in to the water by the soft hands and supporting cheers of Taemin, who would rather drown than allow Minho to think that he wouldn’t be safe in the water, next to him.   Minho ended up sticking to the shallow end after one accident where he slipped and plunged in to the water, though the idea to be a one-man audience couldn’t have played out any worse even if he had imagined it in his own mind. It was a place full of toddlers and young children, and they found it odd enough that a grown man was in the kiddie area of the pool, and so they pointed fingers at him and made jokes.   Minho could’ve just died right there, but then what would Taemin think of him if he did that? And that wasn’t even the worst part, there was another issue at hand!   When Taemin finally emerged from the water after getting tired of swimming alone, all of his movements seemed to slow down inside of Minho’s head--like in a sultry movie or advertisement made to attract/seduce viewers.   It was incredible to look at.    Taemin owned the creamiest, softest and smoothest skin Minho had ever seen or imagined. His body wasn’t all that bad too--a vision of envy for many women