The tiny flakes of snow and the quiet biting cold of the night cause a shiver to run through Taemin's spine. His wrist is still caught in Minho's hand as they walk away from the mess the celebrant had caused at his own party. "Minho," He tries tugging his hand out of the man's grip. "Stop."

 

His steps do not falter against the icy parking as he brings out his car keys and smiles back at Taemin. "No, it's freezing out here. If you have something to say, wait 'til we get to the car."

 

"No! We have to talk about this now!" He successfully pulls the both of them to a stop, and when Minho sighs, he almost believes that the man will actually listen to him. But then he is roughly yanked by the hand, and then thrown into the passenger seat of a car.

 

"Okay," He says after he slides into the driver's seat with a satisfied smirk. "Now we can talk."

 

The warmth in the car is enough to calm him down, but only a moment. He is too upset to be looking at Minho and the man's smirk at the moment, so he looks down at his lap, letting his fringe hide his darkening eyes.

 

"Do you have any idea what you just did?" He is on the verge of raising his voice, but the anxiety inside him is what takes over, hence his shaking voice.

 

"Of course I do." He leans over and pulls Taemin's seatbelt over him, doing the same with his own. Starting the car, he looks right and left to see if there are any other cars in the way before beginning to drive out of the parking lot. His nonchalance infuriates Taemin even more. It frustrates him that Minho isn't taking this as seriously as he should.  

 

"Minho, this," he vaguely gestures to the two of them, "isn't something you can just go announcing to everyone. Did you even think this through? Are you even taking any of this seriously?!" He isn't fond of the idea of arguing with someone whilst said person is driving, but he just cannot bear to stay silent about the whole situation.

 

The dim light of the street lights they are passing would occasionally pass over Minho's features. The man's brows are furrowed as he makes a slow left turn. "What are you getting so upset about?"

 

"I'm upset because you did something without thinking about the consequences! Why do you always have to be like this?!" His eyes are burning from the desire to let the salty tears flow freely. His throat is burning from how he is shouting. "You get yourself in stupid situations and you make irrational decisions and now people are going to--"

 

Minho twines his fingers with Taemin's.

 

The radio hadn't been to give way to their discussion, letting silence reign over them as Taemin's nagging immediately dies down. An instant calm takes over them because he is holding Minho's hand and they don't need words to tell each other what this gesture means.

 

If it were any other person on the receiving end of Taemin's long-winding nagging, the person would have shouted back or told him to shut up. The only words that were spewing from Taemin's mouth were insults and hissy fits; anyone would have snapped. But not Minho. He knows Taemin, maybe even more than Taemin knows himself. And Minho understands that when Taemin is shouting like this and rambling as if he has absolutely no filter between his brain and his mouth, then that can only mean that he is anxious. He is worried. And he is positive that he isn't worried about himself.

 

His assumptions are proven when the brunette begins to speak again in a voice so soft, as if it would be blown away by the wind if Minho threatened to open the car windows.

 

"... People are going to shut you out. They're going to avoid you and they're going to make fun of you. I'm used to all of that and it's fine if they hate me but you..." He squeezes Minho's fingers as he bites his trembling lower lip. "I'd hate myself if you have to go through the same thing I did just because of us."

 

The constant purrs of the car's engine and the low, almost inaudible blowing of the air-conditioner fill the gaps of silence as Minho contemplates what Taemin had said. They pass by a number of run-down buildings before Minho comes up with a reply.

 

"As much as you think I'm kidding around... I'm not. I knew what I was doing and I sure as hell have an idea how people are going to react about all this. The homophobes are probably going to make some sort of disgusted comment about faggots and some people probably wouldn't even care. A lot of can happen." He keeps his hand tied around Taemin's, not bothering to shift gears in the slightest.

 

"I'd go through anything for us, Taemin. Hell, I'd wear a ing hot pink ball gown for you in the middle of Seoul if you asked me to." The soft giggle that comes from the brunette's lips eases his once constricting heart. He continues, still keeping his eyes on the road.

 

"I don't have to care about what other people have to say about us. And you don't either. We don't owe them anything."

 

He lets his eyes drift from the road to Taemin's for a moment, and the gaze that they share is enough to make the both of them understand that maybe what Minho says is right — they don't owe them anything.

 

 

He pulls his cap even further over his head as he keeps Taemin close to him. The bell to the dodgy diner rings noisily as they enter into the warmth of the room and escape from the biting cold of the snow. The tired-looking waitresses don't even acknowledge them as they walk to an empty booth as innocently as possible. 

 

He steps aside to let Taemin slide into the booth first. Scooting in right beside him, he raises his arm to let the younger snuggle against him. While Taemin is busy huddling to his side, he furtively checks his phone. No frantic calls or messages just yet.

 

Taemin leans into him, a sad smile on his face. "Some way to celebrate your birthday. From a fancy ball to a run-down diner." He glances around and internally cringes at the corny retro designs posted at the walls and the worn out wallpaper of the room.

 

"Hey, as long as you're with me, I don't care where we are." Minho throws him a cheesy smile.

 

"Casanova, please shut up." Taemin is giggling as he says this, raising his hand to playfully cover his boyfriend's mouth – attempting to stop the sweetly idiotic flood of words from Minho's lips.

 

Minho successfully catches Taemin's index finger between his lips. He smirks at the boy before letting the finger go. "Not Casanova. Call me Romeo." He leans back against the chair, arms resting against the back of it as he grins at the brunette. "Then you can be my Juliet."

 

"Oh god," Taemin shakes his head, putting a hand to his forehead in exasperation, "Why do I even bother?"

 

"You say that but you're blushing."

 

"Am not."

 

Minho pulls him impossibly closer and whispers his retort into his ear. "Your cheeks say otherwise."

 

Taemin attempts to slap away the hand at his waist. "I'm not—"

 

"You two going to order something or what?"

 

Minho directs a low growl at the woman who dares to interrupt their shameless flirting. But then they (did) go to a diner for his birthday celebration so they might as well grab a bite to eat. He also belatedly thanks the heavens above that this woman does not seem to recognize either of them.

 

They get an order of pancakes (Taemin: Breakfast for dinner can never go wrong!) since the both of them had already eaten the dinner provided by his former party's sponsors and this diner date is really just an excuse for them to spend some time together alone.

 

They spend their time waiting for their food acting like two lovesick teenagers on their first date. After all, this is the first time that they feel free enough to allow themselves to act on their relationship publicly. They whisper corny pick-up lines to each other, they giggle when they catch the other staring, they exchange teasing and shy smiles, and they hold hands under the table.

 

The food arrives, and they are too far gone into their pretend-puppy-love-romance to pull away from each other in respect for the waitress. But the grumpy woman does not seem to care though, as she places the plate of pancakes on the table and lazily walks off without even sparing the couple a second glance.

 

Minho leans forward to take in another bite of the pancake on Taemin's fork. He knows that he is very much capable of feeding himself, but having Taemin feed him is much, much more satisfying. Plus, it adds up to the sickly sweet highschool romance they've been trying to imitate.

 

"Aaah." Taemin holds up another forkful of the syrup drenched food.

 

"Aah." Minho gladly opens up and savours the taste of the unexpectedly impressive pancakes. He swallows before cutting some up for the younger and bringing it up to Taemin's mouth as well. Taemin hums happily and leans forward to take in the sweet food.

 

When the food is all gone and the snowflakes floating from the sky had considerably lessened, Minho calls up the weary-looking waitress for the bill. Taemin is already feeling him up under the table, and if the slow woman takes any longer to reach their table, he fears he might end up taking Taemin right there and then.

 

When the woman (finally) brings them the bill, Taemin has the decency to pull his hand away from Minho's thigh and temporarily stop his sensual ministrations. As Minho pulls out his wallet, the woman eyes the pair of them with a raised brow. Taemin fidgets while Minho remains oblivious to her peering eyes as he shuffles around his wallet. She then blurts out,

 

"You look cute together."

 

She isn't smiling— far from that, actually— but she isn't being sarcastic either. The judging look is still on her face, but from her comment, Minho feels a sense of approval for them. He knows that Taemin is probably burning bright red beside him from the woman's random observation, so Minho manages the situation— as always.

 

"Thanks." He charismatically grins up at her and settles on pulling out an amount thrice their bill, both for the food and for her comment just moments ago. He places the cash on the money tray and hands it to the woman, "Keep the change."

 

Money, apparently, is enough to wash away any signs of tiredness in the woman because she immediately perks up and smiles when she registers what Minho had said (at the same pace in which she arrived with the bill). She walks away with a renewed skip in her step.

 

They decide that they will be driving home to Taemin's apartment; firstly because Minho's place is currently being flocked by paparazzi and secondly because Taemin's heater is broken and he needs something – or preferably someone – to keep him warm this winter night.

 

They flop down onto Taemin's bed in a mess of limbs and harsh breaths, neither wanting to pull away for the much-needed oxygen their lungs are screaming for. They push against each other and they tear each other's clothes off; and when Taemin shivers from the lack of heat in the room (the heater really is broken), that is when Minho comes up with the brilliant idea of going under the covers and continuing their love-making from there.

 

As he kisses Taemin everywhere he can reach, he takes in each and every feature and blemish and mark in his boyfriend's whole being. And as he does so, he feels his heart swell in happiness. He takes note of this date, this December 9th, as the night where he had received his most beautiful present in all his 24 years of life.

 

Taemin's high pitched moan of Minho's name is what remains of tonight's heated activities. When they come down from their highs, Taemin easily snuggles into Minho and breathes in his scent, just as he always does. While his lanky arm is wrapped around the elder's torso and the other curled into his own chest, Minho would whisper words to Taemin in a gentle, hushed voice, something like a lullaby, until the tired brunette is finally lulled to sleep.

 

Minho is content to watch his boyfriend in his slumbering state, but he is forced to stop when the ringing of his phone brings him back to reality. He grumbles in irritation as he grabs it off the bedside table. But the irritation immediately flies away when he sees who the caller is.

 

"Hyung!"

 

"Things are ing crazy here, Minho. Paparazzi are everywhere, they're swarming your family, I think I saw some ladies actually crying, reporters are still coming in, everyone is shouting and I don't even know if you understand what I'm saying here with all this noise."

 

Minho's chest rumbles from his laugh. He is grateful that Taemin is a deep sleeper.

 

"I can hear you just fine, hyung. Sorry I had to drag you into this mess." He scratches his head sheepishly, not realizing that the man on the other line cannot see him.

 

"Hey, I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for my brother." Though the reply sounds hateful and antagonizing, for some reason, Minho understands that that is not how Taesun really makes it out to be. "You should just be glad I agreed to handle all this you left behind."

 

"I really am. Thanks, hyung."

 

Over the loud sounds of the people's obnoxious shouting, Minho still hears the silence from Taesun on the other line. When he speaks again, his voice is low and quiet, but Minho hears it loud and clear. "Take care of him."

 

He nods, not caring that the man on the other line cannot see him. He lets his eyes drift to Taemin's closed eyes and flushed cheeks and long hair, and the determination in his voice is obvious. "I will."

 

"Good."

 

The connection is cut and Minho places his phone back on the bedside table. He pulls Taemin closer and bids himself to go to sleep as well as the younger nuzzles his head into his neck. Before everything hits the fan, he wants to savour this perfection: a quiet, unheated room where Taemin is safe in his arms and no one can hurt him – at least not just yet.

 

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Angsty chapter coming up D: I love you guise! Your comments just make me so happy! :)