Like what Taemin believes, they win. They don’t get any trophy or charter, it is only the first qualifying round after all, but they get pride and that is more important than trophies and charters. Taemin also doesn’t forget Minho’s words—And you make me want to eat fro-yo. I demand a cup of green tea fro-yo after our battle with Tiger Smokes! Your treat. 

Taemin brings him to a small fro-yo and ice cream parlor near The Underground, just about three blocks down. He doesn’t even realize that the parlor exists (he’s careless like that) until Taemin drags him without saying anything, just stopping in front of it and smiles. 

The parlor’s door frame is painted with bluish green paint, a white and soft pink striped roof above it, white and black checkered floor, an ice cream bar, red tables and red chairs. Taemin grabs his hand and drags him inside, waving enthusiastically at a pretty girl behind the cashier. 

“Jess noona!” Taemin says happily. The girl—Jess?—waves back at him, the corner of moving upwards to a little, sincere, smile.

“Taemin! What are you doing here?” The girl asks, reaching out to give Taemin a high-five. 

“He wants a cup of fro-yo,” Taemin answers, pointing at Minho. The girl smiles and nods at him, her messy bun comes into his view.

The girl blinks at Taemin, her hands moving in awkward motions, gesturing Taemin to introduce her to Minho. Taemin blinks back at her but quickly understands what she means, a satisfied “Aaah~” coming out from his mouth.

“Minho, this is Jessica noona,” Jessica grins, holding out a hand. “Jessica noona, this is Minho.” Taemin says proudly as Minho takes Jessica’s hand and shakes her hand gleefully.

Jessica smirks lazily. “So this is the Minho guy that you can’t stop talking about since God knows whe—mmmph!” 

“Jess—what—ssh! You know, Minho, this Jessica right here totally has the hots for Jinki, she gushes about him at me everyday!” Taemin butts in quickly, a hand clamping over Jessica’s mouth to keep her shut. Jessica grabs a handful of Taemin’s sleeve, yanking it so hard till it rips off of his arm. 

“Look at what you did!” Taemin grumbles, looking at his own skin through the hole Jessica made. Jessica giggles and rummages through the drawer, taking out a scissor. She cuts off the sleeves completely, turning the long sleeve shirt Taemin once wore to a no sleeve shirt. Taemin merely shrugs then, not caring about it that much.

“So, what would you like to order?” She asks.

“A cup of green tea fro-yo with—“

“Lych—“

“Lychees, peaches and nata de coco. Also a cup of mint chocolate chip, please.” Taemin says easily, grinning up at him. Minho is bewildered, never thought about the chance of Taemin knowing his favorites. 

“Okay, a cup of green tea fro-yo with lychees, peaches, nata de coco and a cup of mint chocolate chip coming right up!”

When they already have their cups of fro-yo and ice cream in their hands, they bid their goodbyes at Jessica—Bye Taemin, bye Minho, tell Jinki to come over sometimes and you guys should come again later too, I’ll give you guys discount!—, and they walk (Taemin skips, actually) to a nearby playground, sitting on the bench. It’s almost 6 in the evening so the playground is empty, no little kids playing with the swings or slides, just them. 

Taemin is a little bit disappointed, though, as a boy who likes kids very much, he hasn’t been playing with kids for quite some time. And tonight is cold. 

“I told you to bring your jacket but you didn’t listen to me.” Minho says, his spoon and scoops up the fro-yo again.

“I never thought that Jess noona would rip off my sleeves.” Taemin replies, throwing his ice cream cup into the trash bin after he finished it. Minho rolls his eyes good-naturedly but puts down his own cup and takes off his jacket, slumping it over Taemin’s head.

“Wear that, or you’ll get cold.” He brings up his cup again, not eating the lychees because he knows that Taemin likes it and he’ll probably ask him later if he could eat that or not.

“Thanks,” Taemin muffles, trying to put on Minho’s jacket. It’s too big for Taemin, his fingertips poking out of the jacket. 

“Want the lychees?” He asks, ing the cup to Taemin. Taemin beams, taking the cup and eats the lychees in an instant. Minho chuckles, slinging an arm over Taemin’s shoulder. Taemin also throws his cup into the trash bin too after the lychees are all gone, standing up and making a run to the swings. 

This is the other side of Taemin, the most childish side, the loud, careless, messy, Taemin. He still likes it, likes the twinkles in Taemin’s eyes, likes the way Taemin calls him and asks him to push the swing, likes Taemin’s giggle, likes the soft strands of Taemin’s hair shine under the moon, likes Taemin’s pearl white teeth and well, Minho thinks he likes Taemin. 

(Or is it love?)

Minho stops pushing the swing abruptly, almost causing Taemin to fall onto the ground. Taemin grips the swing chain tighter and looks up, ready to voice out his protests, but Minho is gazing down at him with that big, round, eyes, the dark brown orbs, and suddenly Taemin’s breath gets caught in his throat, the protests melting inside his mouth.

Minho closes his hands around Taemin’s, leaning down, his back making a perfect 90 degree bow. Taemin panics for a moment, shrinking down in his seat, eyes roaming everywhere but Minho, but his knees is weakling and he can’t go anywhere, so he waits, waits until Minho is close enough to press his lips against his. Minho, however, kisses his forehead and not his lips. He clicks his tounge in annoyance and has to admit that he wants Minho to kiss him, though, and he doesn’t care if Minho’s lips are dry or the kiss is awkward, because he just want to be able to make the butterflies in his stomach flutter again, to feel the blood rushing up to his face, to feel loved. 

But Minho trails open-mouthed kisses down Taemin’s nose and stops right in front of his lips, Minho’s hot breath mingling with his cold ones. Then he kisses him fully on the lips, in open air, promptly doesn’t care with his surroundings, keeping his cool even if a kid catches them kissing (let’s don’t forget about the fact that this is a ing kid playground). 

The kiss is weird, but it’s slow and languid and hot and familiar, the butterflies are back and they flutter, they fly, fly, fly, fly up to Taemin’s throat, and he wonders if Minho and him are exchanging their butterflies with each other, albeit he doesn’t know if Minho has butterflies in his own stomach to begin with. 

They part what seems like an eternity, a tinge of red on their cheeks and a content smile playing on Minho’s red lips. Taemin grins, the jacket now falling past his shoulders—he’s not sure how or why—, eyes full of delight and amusement. Minho grins back, standing up to straighten his sore back only to bend again to wrap his arms around Taemin’s shoulder. 

Taemin cracks his neck from side to side in Minho’s embrace, relaxing it. Minho tucks his chin on the hollow between Taemin’s shoulder blade and collarbone, smiling into the night. 

“Thanks for the fro-yo,” Taemin says, kissing his cheek.

“Why are you thanking me? I’m the one who should say thank you,” He replies, returning Taemin’s kiss as he kisses Taemin’s temple. 

“But I can taste the fro-yo, though my mint chocolate chip is better, and I ate the lychees.”

“Little…genius brat.” 

“I’m your little genius brat and you love this genius brat, don’t you?” Taemin asks teasingly, nudging his neck with his shoulder.

“Yeah,” He answers by heart, taking Taemin’s wrist and kissing the underside of it. 

“Yeah, I love you, Taemin.” Foxy’s little genius brat. Jonghyun finds Kibum sitting with his friends in the cafeteria in their college the next afternoon after the battle with Tiger Smokes, munching his sandwich (ham and cheese) and talking or gossiping with his friends. Jonghyun guesses they’re gossiping, though, seeing the number of girls are bigger than the boys—it’s only, Kibum—probably about the new student from London or that ert lecturer. 

“Hey,” He comes up behind Kibum, patting Kibum’s shoulder gently. Kibum turns his head, smiling. “I thought we’re having lunch together like always?”

Kibum’s friends let out too many loud whistles to Jonghyun’s liking, playfully hitting Kibum’s arm, and even one of them—her name is Tiffany, if Jonghyun’s not wrong—is saying nice catch, key! definitely hot stuff, grinning like a Chesire cat. Kibum rolls his eyes, mumbling shut up, he’s just a friend, but he can see a little red blush hiding under Kibum’s skin.

“Yes, but uh, I was very hungry and I just couldn’t wait for you to show up. I’m sorry.” Kibum says apologetically.

“Oh, that’s okay, I could just eat alone later,” Jonghyun replies, flashing his infamous dinosaur grin. “What were you guys talking about?”

He isn’t actually asking Kibum’s friends, but he doesn’t want the atmosphere to be awkward, so he just does what his brother advised him to do in every awkward moment, although it’s very silly and unnecessary. 

“Oh, we were just talking about the costumes for Halloween,” Kibum says, gathering his things and raising up from his seat.

“Ah, Halloween costumes. So, what are we going to be this year?” He asks, following Kibum, walking out of the cafeteria.

“About that…” Kibum mutters softly, facing him. “I’m going to the Halloween with Tiffany this year. And we’re going to be The Olsens.” Kibum grabs Tiffany’s arm and links it together like in a wedding.

“What? You’re going with Tiffany?” Jonghyun blinks rapidly, mouth slightly ajar. “But—but—but I thought we’re going together!”

“I, uh, I already tried to call you and text you but you didn't pick up and you didn’t reply my texts. I couldn’t wait forever.” Kibum says. Tiffany realizes that the problem is a bit too personal, so she excuses herself and jogs to catch up with the other girls. 

“I’m sorry, I have a lot of things to do and I—uh, I really am sorry, I don’t have much time to reply you! And I don’t want to go with my roommate. Please, Kibum, please.” Jonghyun pleaded, showing Kibum his infamous dinosaur + puppy eyes. Kibum covers his eyes with his hand, shaking his head, murmuring it won’t change anything, it won’t change anything it won’t change anything—

“If you’re going with Tiffany, then, what about Hyun? Don’t you want to go to Halloween with Hyun? You can call me Megalodon whenever you want if you agree to go with me!”

Still won’t change anything—

“Kibum, you’re like the internet to my Blackberry! The jam to my toast! The sugar to my tea! The Mary-Kate to my Ashley! The, uh, the girl Megalodon to my boy Megalodon!

.

“Fine,” Kibum sighs, letting his arm drop to his side. “I’ll ask Tiffany to pair up with another girl or boy.” Jonghyun jumps in joy, suffocating Kibum in a hug. Kibum automatically jumps along, his sling bag rocking back and forth.

“I know you will say that,” He beams, detaching himself. “I have to eat now, so, see ya later, girlMegalodon or Megalodon’s baby, whichever you like!” He shouts, running along the hallway to find someone who could eat with him before the next period starts. 





Minho thinks spending his day and night with Taemin is one of his hobbies now, another thing that he loves to do after playing football and reading novels. He can’t see himself eating or making music or practicing without Taemin beside him, doing whatever he wants like playing with his fingers or pulling out the loose string on the hem of his t-shirt. The other team members are okay seeing their behavior—they said they’re already used to it—not complaining at all, filling their roles as good friends and being supportive.

In all conscience, it’s quiet terrifying in Minho’s opinion, considering the fact that they aren’t really official, in spite of already saying ‘I love you’ to each other and few kisses, hugs, cuddles here and there, he never say anything about their relationship. It seems like Taemin doesn’t mind it, letting whatever is going on between them flow like a steady wave. 

He can say that their days are busy, with practice and learning some new moves, thus he asked Taemin to have a day off with him and go somewhere out of the town. The place doesn’t need to be that far, Minho had said, just silent enough to make them forget about the mundane problems. 

Taemin had agreed to go with him, packing some of his clothes right away and told him to go the next day. The next day is today, so here they are, in Minho’s car, jamming to the songs on the radio, going to wherever the car will take them. They haven’t planned it yet, and he’s sure that they won’t plan it even until the sun goes down and the moon comes up. 

“Where are we going?” Taemin asks, glancing at him while still lowering the window.

“I’m not sure,” Minho replies, reaching out to play with Taemin’s blonde locks. “But we’ll eventually find a place.”

Taemin raises an eyebrow at him and at his arm, pulling it off and placing it onto the steering wheel again. He laughs, reaching out again to pinch Taemin’s nose before going back to drive. The road is pretty much deserted, only hills and green grass. 

The stop by the gas station to eat lunch—cheese burger, coke, french fries—and to fill up the car’s tank, talking about what will they do when they reach their destination. There is a possibility that they can’t find a place to spend the night and they end up going back to The Underground, but Taemin insists to just drive along the road and just sleep in the car if there is really no place.

After they have finished eating and the tank is full, he starts the engine again, driving at a medium speed. Taemin occasionally waves at the people on the sidewalk, flashing his trademark sunshine smile, poking his head out and shouting to no one in particular. Minho just laughs or chuckles, grabbing Taemin’s tank top and pushing his shoulder to make him sit calmly.

“Are you still hungry? I have some left over. French fries?” Taemin pokes his cheek and shows him a box of french fries. He grins, opening his mouth widely at Taemin’s direction, eyes still on the road. Taemin rolls his eyes, grumbling are you a 5 year old boy can’t you eat by yourself, hmph but feeds him the french fries, anyway. 

Minho smirks, munching the potato and circles Taemin’s neck with an arm, pulling him for a brief hug. However, Taemin stays there, snaking his arm around Minho’s waist and keeps feeding Minho, resting his head on Minho’s shoulder, though his position will surely make his body ache, his torso floating across the center console and he has to bend his head in a weird way. 

“I’m sleepy,” Taemin says, throwing the empty box onto the dashboard, hugging him with two arms and closes his eyes. 

“Then go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we reach our destination,” Minho tells him, pulling him away and takes out a pillow from the backseat. “Sit straight and put this against the window, then go to sleep.” He commands softly.

“Mmm, ‘kay, thanks.” Taemin places the pillow against the window (Minho told him to raise it up, afraid that he will catch a cold), eyes half-lidded.

“Sleep well,” He traces Taemin’s face with his fingers, slowing the speed down just to peck him on the lips. Taemin squirms in his seat, his eyes closed but he’s smiling, falling asleep in an instant. 

It’s a nice trip for Minho, as he smiles to himself, watching the sunlight entering his car through the little gaps on the windows. Taemin seems uncomfortable in his seat, though, tossing his head and sometimes scratching his neck, annoyed sighs coming out from his pink plush lips. 

“Minho, can we open the windows? I don’t like the air from the AC,” Taemin blinks, pleading and wrinkling his nose. “Please.”

“Er… Alright, you can.” Minho gives in, ruffling Taemin’s hair for the 5th time of the day. He can’t ever say no to the boy. Taemin grins in victory, quickly pushing the window button and letting the cool breeze brush past his face. He also lowers the driver’s seat window, coming to a conclusion that natural breeze is better than the fake one.

In the end, Taemin doesn’t sleep an eye at all, placing an arm on the car’s windowsill, his head resting on his arm and sticking out another arm, feeling the wind running through his fingers throughout the journey. 

“Let’s just stop on that hill, I think it looks okay.” Taemin points at the green hill, looking at Minho with that doe-eyes and sunshine smile. Minho nods in approval, craning up his neck to see the hill better.

It’s near 5 o’clock in the evening, the sun is till on the middle of the sky, waiting to go down completely. The sky is not blue anymore, it’s yellow, orange, a little bit purple and a little bit red, Taemin’s eyes reflecting the radiance.

How could he be so pretty, Minho thinks hard, remembering the times when he used to have girlfriends and glad that he broke the relationships off. Sure, they are pretty, with their long hair, curvy body and cute dresses, but Minho is more sure that everyone thinks Taemin is prettier. 

“Choi, don’t look at me with that expression, look at the road!” Taemin exclaims, playfully squeezing his cheeks and moves his head towards the road. 

“That hurts! Ah, get out,” He slaps Taemin’s hand, unlocking the door and pushing him away. Taemin laughs breathlessly, flailing his arms and stomping his foot like a child.

When Taemin are done laughing, Minho turns the steering wheel and goes up the hill. The hill is not steep, thankfully, so he still could manage to go up without falling back. The air is dry but humid, perfect in his opinion. 

“Wear the sweater before going out, baby, don’t want you to catch a cold. Don’t want you to have a fever too.” Minho commands, stopping the car on top of the hill and unlocks the door.

“User your jacket too, silly. You can go first, papa. Or, maman?” Taemin teases, rolling his eyes and grabbing Minho’s sweater from the backseat. 

“You’re Korean, so use Korean language. And I don’t speak French.” Minho says casually, shrugging, closing the car door to sit on the car roof. Taemin briefly rolls his eyes and smiles. 

“And here comes the snarky Foxy,” Taemin mumbles, shaking his head, pushing himself up and joins Minho sitting on the car roof. “What are we going to do here?”

“Mmmh, not sure,” He replies, patting his shoulder, a movement to tell Taemin to lean on it. Taemin nods, tucking his knees under his chin and wrapping his arms around them. “But whatever it is, it feels sort of nice. I like it.” He continues.

They watch the sun going down together, hands intertwined impossibly tight—they don’t even realize that their hands are intertwined together in the first place—, the warmness seeping into their bodies (ears, nose, lips, fingers, palms, hands, arms, nails, thighs, calves, ribs, lungs, veins, hearts, everywhere). 

The sky is beyond beautiful; orange, red, dark purple, light purple, black and blue—just downright perfect. Taemin glances at him, bright eyes, wide grins which then in an instant turns into a confused straight lines, and then he finds himself leaning down, closer, closer, closer, until he feels like the world stops, as if they’re witnessing him and Taemin closing their eyes, their lips touching in a kiss, head tilted in different angles, his hand going down to cup the side of Taemin’s face and his thumb brushing across Taemin’s flushed cheek. The butterflies are fluttering again, probably happy because they know the fact that they will always live, as long as Taemin is there and Minho is also there. 

“I take back what I said,” Minho says, his lips still ghosting over Taemin’s. “It’s not sort of nice. It’s perfectly nice.” He smirks, kissing Taemin once more. Taemin chuckles into the kiss, grabbing the front of Minho’s jacket and pulls him even closer. 

They sleep on the car roof that night, a thick blanket as their bed, a thinner blanket to foreclose their bodies, two puffy pillows beneath their heads and a small bolster for Taemin to hug.

“You know, I haven’t ask this to you yet,” Minho whispers, propping his head with an elbow and tucking some Taemin’s hair strands behind his ear. Taemin looks at him expectantly, shifting to his side to see better. 

“Mmm, go on,” Taemin urges him, nodding his head once.

“Where does this leave us?” He asks slowly, blinking and suddenly he feels like a pre-puberty teenage girl who has a crush on a cute boy in her class.

“What do you want us to be?” Taemin asks back, snuggling and puts his face flat against Minho’s neck.

“Well,” Minho moves his hand and Taemin’s hair gently, another arm snaking around Taemin’s waist. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Why do you even bother to ask me, stupid.” Taemin jokes, lightly punching his chest and kisses the underside of his jaw. “I love you.” Taemin mumbles, shutting his tired eyes.

“Love you too.” Minho mumbles back, pressing a soft kiss on Taemin’s forehead. 





They win the second qualification round, of course, though Jonghyun has an important club meeting at the same time, but they manage to convince Jonghyun to join them and they add more pride in their list. They make sure they still keep their heads and focus on it, practicing harder than ever. It’s the final battle, after all. They invent new moves and make their own costumes, also paying attention to little details. They don’t expect a video of their routine displayed on the Battle of the Best homepage, though, from the beginning to the ending. And that means, they must create a new choreography and they must master it in less than two weeks. 





“You know, I’ve been thinking about this lately,” Taemin says to him while drumming his fingers on his forehead. “Who’s that Yuri girl that we met in the club that time? She’s annoying,” He hears a slight worry and guilty in Taemin’s voice, but he shrugs it off. 

“She used to be a member of us,” He says dryly, the fabric of Taemin’s jeans scrubbing against his cheek. “And she also used to be my girlfriend. She purposely made us lose a battle just for a bet. We didn’t consider her action, so we told her to quit. Then she joined The Rangers and be the leader.” 

“Ah, that make sense why you had a really angry look on your face and venom was literally tied in your voice when you talked to her. Was she a good girlfriend?” Taemin asks again, trying to braid his hair but fails miserably. 

“No, she wasn’t. When she was still my girlfriend she flirted with another guys. Such a wh—“ Taemin cuts him off by slapping his mouth.

“Ow, what was that for?” He rubs his lips painfully. 

“You can’t just call someone like that easily!” Taemin laughs, leaning down to nuzzle his nose with his own. “I know it hurts but you still love me anyway, so, I don’t really care.”

“Who said that I love you? No I don’t.” He sticks out his tongue, rolling over and let Taemin faces his back. 

“Hmm, you sure?” Taemin mutters in his ear, moving down and captures his lips in a kiss. Taemin smirks, pushing him away softly. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?”

“Still hurts. Heal it some more,” He smiles mischievously, tugging Taemin’s wrist down. “I know there’s another reason why I love you.” He continues slyly. 





It’s been so long since Taemin feels unrighteous, and he never feel this unrighteous, like he’s commiting a very great and terrible sin, like he’s ruining something lovely, like he’s falling into a no end well. He is falling, fast and hard, and he likes it—no, he loves it, so much—but this kind of fall is not the thing that he wants. He sighs loudly and runs a hand through his hair in frustration, carefully looking everywhere for any signs of his friends. He enters his house quietly, dumping his sling bag on the couch.

“Welcome home, my precious little cousin,” He hears the voice he doesn’t want to hear from behind, turning on his heels and—there she is, happier than ever, spreading her arms, hoping that he’ll run to her for a hug, no tinge of guilt splattering on her face. He wants to hit her face, if he can.

“You lied to me,” He hisses, eyes blazing in anger. “You ing lied to me. And you know, oh, you really know that you I hate to be lied to. You said to me that Minho kick you out because he’s jealous, but the truth is, you made them lose a battle just for a bet, isn’t it? I snuck in there just for you and you lied to me? God, I can’t believe this,” Taemin takes three steps forward and clenches his teeth.

“Ey, calm down, I’m a girl, remember? Guys aren’t supposed to hit girls, Taemin.” She rolls his eyes and crosses her arm over her chest. “And no, boy, I didn’t throw a battle for a bet. He was jealous over me, because I had more potential to be the leader and I had more supporters. He is still jealous, believe me.”

“Stop saying that . Minho would never do that, I know him!” Taemin growls, eyes scrunched up as he goes up the stairs to his room, with her trailing behind him. 

“So now you don’t believe me but you believe him?” She raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Yes, I believe him and no way, I’ll never believe you, Yuri noona, you ing liar,” He shakes his head furiously, trying to keep his cool.

“Oh, really now? I’m a liar? Then what about you? Acted all innocent in front of Minho, being all cute and clueless and then he thought you want to be a part of the House of Ninjas and you made him fall for you and then you guys kissed, had , bla bla bla, and he still doesn’t know the truth that you’re my cousin and you’re just an orphan and my parents is kind enough to look after you and think of you just like their child! You should be thankful, you ing brat.” Yuri fires back, pointing at him with her long finger in an accusing way. Taemin takes a deep breath, wiping the drops of tears on his face. He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying. 

“I—I, it’s different, okay? I love him, he loves me, and I know it! I also know that you’re just using me to take a revenge on him, am I right? Stupid rivalry,” Taemin chokes out, brushing past Yuri harshly and enters his room with a loud bang. 





“Where are you going?” Taemin jumps a little when he feels a light tap on his shoulder. 

“Oh, it’s you hyung, I thought you were a ghost.” He sighs in relief, putting his hand on his chest. Jinki blinks at him and waits, expecting an answer. 

“I, uh, I need to go. I can’t be here. Tell Minho I’m really sorry.” He bites his lower lip and gripping the strap of his sling bag tighter, not daring to look straight at Jinki’s eyes.

“Where are you going?” Jinki repeats his question, confusion written all over his face.

“I can’t tell you. I just, I just need to go. I can’t stay. I have my own problems that I don’t think I can tell you guys, even Minho.”

“It’s just your thinking, right? You have options. Whatever your problems are, I’m sure that we could help you. We’re here for you. We’re brothers and sisters, remember?” Jinki deadpans and trying to reassure him that they can help him.

“I—I can’t do that, I—I must go, I’m sorry.” 

“The greatest decision is never easy. Just saying.”

But he really must go. For good. 






Minho wakes up without a cheerful good morning, captain! co-capt taemin here, wakey, wakey, we have to practice, or a soft wake up kiss on the forehead. He panics for a moment, running, searching around The Underground and checking every place that he can think of. 

“He left? Why would he left just like that? I don’t think there is a reason for him to did that, this doesn’t make sense.” Minho groans, falling back to his bead and puts his hands on his face.

“Yes there is, but I didn’t know what. He didn’t want to tell me. But he told me to tell you that he’s sorry. And oh, I saw this on our front door.” Jinki gives him an A4 paper, the paper telling him that The Underground is already up for an auction. 

“What the—they can’t do this!” Minho’s eyes grow wide.

“Yes, they can. We haven’t pay for the rent, Minho.” 

“I won’t ing let them put it up for an auction. Because this is not for sale.” Minho narrows his eyes, balling the paper in his palm and dumping it into the trash can.





Two days after Taemin went out of The Underground, the same day as the Halloween party, Minho’s phone beeps, indicating that he has a new message. He digs through his pocket reluctantly, fishing out the phone and sits down.

meet me at my party tonight. 8 pm sharp. don’t forget to bring a mask. you know where to go.
-tae♥

“Jonghyun, you have to accompany me to Taemin’s party. Tonight.” Minho slings an arm over Jonghyun’s shoulder and looks at him with hopeful eyes.

“Uh, I guess I can’t, I already decided to accompany my best friend to the Halloween party. Really sorry, man.” Jonghyun says, patting his back.

“Ey, don’t be like that. You’re my boy. I promise we’ll be done before your date with your best friend. What’s his name again? Kim who?” 

“It’s Kibum. And it’s not a date.” Minho gives him a look. “Anyway, promise we’ll be done before the Halloween party starts?”

“Promise.” 

“Alright, alright. You have me.” Minho’s eyes lit up and he squeezes Jonghyun’s shoulder firmly before standing up and heading to the place. The place must be Taemin’s favorite hotel, which is not that far from The Underground. Taemin took him there one time, just for having a fine dinner. The food was really good, so, no wonder Taemin likes it. 

When they arrive, all of the people there have their invitations and they all were suits and dresses, but Taemin doesn’t mention anything about invitation, neither formal attire, just about mask. Minho and Jonghyun try to explain to the guard that they know the person who is holding the party, and the guard doesn’t believe them, obviously. They find a way to enter the venue, thanks to their idea, borrowing the not used waiter suits and sneaking in through the kitchen.

He sees Taemin standing by a table, holding a plate of food, looking very bored. He flashes forced smiles at the people who congratulate him, and his face goes back to blank when they’re gone. He carefully wears the mask, slipping past the crowd and quietly stands beside Taemin.

“Hey,” Minho whispers huskily. “Did you miss me?” 

“Minho!” Taemin gasps in surprise, nearly dropping the plate onto the carpet. “You scared me! What are you doing here?”

“Eh, I thought you texted me to come to your party?” He asks.

“When did I…? Ah, whatever, come with me,” Taemin glances around and grabs his hand, quickly walking upstairs to the balcony. 

“I miss you so much,” Taemin says as he kisses him, quick, to prove him that he really misses him. “I got something for you,” He takes out a CD case and shoves it into Taemin’s hand.

“I really miss you too. What’s this?” Taemin eyes the CD case suspiciously. 

“It has my songs in it, the songs I made. For you.” He admits a little shyly, pecking Taemin’s temple. 

“Eh…?” Taemin blinks confusedly, and soon his lips curled upwards and it breaks into a huge grin. “Um, ah—I, er, thank you so much! I’m definitely sure that I’ll like all of the songs!“ Taemin stutters nervously—he’s positive that something is wrong, because Taemin never, never stutter—envelopes him an a firm hug, putting the CD into his own pocket, silently making a promise with himself to put it on replay when he get home. “But, I—uh, I don’t know how to say this but—we—we should get out of here. Let’s get out of here—start a new fresh, just you and me, we’re—“

“Taemin, you’re blabbering, I don’t understand what are you talking about, slow down.” He cups Taemin’s face and rocks it back and forth softly.

“Awww, how sweet. I feel like crying seeing you both, so in love with each other.” He hears a loud clap and a familiar girl’s voice. “Yuri? What are you doing here?”

“Why, is there something wrong with attending my precious, lovely cousin party, Minho?” Yuri asks, fluttering his eyelashes.

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