The moon is high up in the sky, and almost all of the employees have cleared out for the night, since as of now, it is already past work hours. The few who are left are the more work-loaded and dedicated ones who decided to go on overtime, which of course include Taemin and Minho.

 

After finally reading over Yang Corporation's contract for the third time, signing it right after, Minho drops his pen and gives a huge sigh. Today seemed to be more stressful for him than all the other days before, and he is pretty sure that it isn't because of his added work load. And knowing that seems to be stressing him out even more.

 

He loosens his tie as he turns his comfortable work chair around to look over Seoul's night life. He watches the cars down below, swiftly driving by each other under the bright street lights lining the roads. He watches the old couple sitting on the bench right outside their building, cudding to each other for warmth. He lets his mind wander, just like a while ago, before Yuri had disturbed him from his miserable reminiscing of the past.

 

It must get lonely.

 

There goes Taemin's voice in his head again, confusing him, frustrating him, making him hope that there is actually someone out there who understands him. The quiet statement repeats again and again in his head, like a broken record, enticing Minho to get on his knees and break down. Taemin's voice resounds in his head, and it almost confuses him when he actually hears the brunette's voice in real life, calling his attention.

 

"Sir? May I come in?" Minho's back is still turned to Taemin, not finding it in himself to look the boy in the eye at the moment. Minho senses the cheerfulness in the younger's voice by the way that the boy is acting so politely towards him, and that makes it all the harder for Minho to be in his presence. But he waves his hand any way, wordlessly giving Taemin consent to enter.

 

Minho hears a pair of shuffling feet, and then there goes the cheery voice again, "These notices were supposed to be sent to your office yesterday, but the mail company got the addresses mixed up. I already got the situation cleared up, so all you have to do is sign these..."

 

Taemin steps in front of his boss's desk, waiting for the man to turn to chair around so that they could talk properly. But the man doesn't do anything of the sort, so he just stands there awkwardly, waiting for his boss to initiate conversation or any type of movement. He isn't upset with Minho anymore after having spent some time with Jinki. The older man had cheered him up so much that he actually finds it in himself to worry about what is going in Minho's head. He wants to try to help the man, because something is obviously bothering him, what with the way he is looking out the large glass windows, all quiet and pensive. If only the man would say something.

 

"Why are you so confusing?"

 

Well, Taemin didn't expect that.

 

"I'm sorry?" Taemin strains to hear his boss's voice. He vaguely heard the question 'Why are you so confusing?' but he is not sure if he heard right, because it seems so irrelevant to the current situation.

 

"Before, you told me that I remind you of every person you hated as a child and until now, as an adult. But then, I noticed that you don't really act like you hate me. Sometimes, I even feel like you..." Taemin sees Minho over the chair, running hand through his hair, struggling with the words, "...care about me. I don't get it. I don't get you."

 

The brunette is rendered speechless for a while, not knowing where all this is coming from. The elder has never acted like this around him before. Whenever Minho is with him, it is either he is angry or douche-y. Never this serious, never this thoughtful. But he reasons that if Minho is asking him this question in this unusual, uncommon state of seriousness, then it would just be best to answer him. He tries not to stutter over his words.

 

""I-I don't hate you. I still don't like you, but I don't hate you.  I think I've gone past your pretentious persona enough not to hate you as much as I did before. It's just that... you were just like my bullies back then, the people who made fun of me because I was gay and all that other shallow crap.  But... of course I care about you. You're my boss, meaning you're my responsibility, right?" Minho feels a slight tug of disappoint in his chest, but it is soon extinguished when he hears what Taemin says next, "A-and... I've come to know you as a person, and aside from the annoying front you put on whenever you're in public, I don't find any reason not to care about you."

 

The elder feels his face flush, his eyes widening under the dark fringe of his hair. When the words from the younger sunk in, he bites his lip, not really wanting to believe it.

 

He... cares about me?

 

Why?

 

What could you possibly see in me that you find important enough that would make you care about me?

 

All these questions are running through Minho's head, wanting to burst out of his mouth at any minute. But his brain stops him from doing anything rash, and just settles on a self-conscious "Oh."

 

The quiet response from the elder pushes Taemin's curiosity even more. Still red-faced from his previous revelation, he asks Minho (or rather the back of Minho's chair), "Is something wrong?"

 

Taemin hears a cough from the man, as if he was righting himself, and then he hears a gruff, "It's nothing."

 

The brunette gives a small smile even though Minho cannot see him, a bit amused by the man's sudden shyness, so he tries to egg him on by teasing him, "That's hardly fair, isn't it? I answered your question. My question is fairly easy, and--"

 

"It's none of your business." Taemin takes a small step back, intimidated and surprised by the elder's hasty change in mood. His tone lowers again as he continues, "I can handle this by myself. I've got myself to keep me company, anyway. I can just talk to myself or something."

 

A frown automatically creeps onto Taemin's lips when he hears that pitiful statement. A silence envelops them, filling every space of Minho's office with its eerie nothingness. Taemin is suffocated by the stillness of the atmosphere and of Minho, but he still finds it in himself to ask, "Is that enough? You know, i-it's usually easier to fix problems when you talk about it with other people. So... Is that really enough? Talking to yourself, I mean."

 

Again, there is only silence.

 

Then Minho speaks, 

 

"It's been enough for 23 years."

 

Taemin almost tears up upon hearing the hushed statement. He hears the deeply-rooted pain that Minho must have felt his whole life. Those six words alone sum up how lonely the man must have felt in all the years that he has been living, not expecting to have anyone to talk to about what he is genuinely feeling or thinking. This makes Taemin wonder just what Minho had gone through to distrust people so much that he would shut his real self off from everybody around him. He opens his mouth to talk; to urge him to say everything that he wants to say, to tell Taemin what had happened in the past that hurt him so much, but Minho beats him to it, a sad coldness still present in his voice.

 

"I'll sign the notices before I leave. You should get going home, Taemin."

 

The brunette nods, not wanting to leave his boss in this state, but does as he is told and shuffles out the door without a word.

 

 

The next morning, the smell of coffee is strong in the office's calm environment, just like it is every other day. The employees are all busy at work, preparing their presentations for potential clients while Minho and Taemin are busy preparing for their meeting with their fathers.

 

The brunette tucks a stray hair behind his ear, observing Minho. The man is still in the melancholic, pensive state that he was in the night before, and Taemin knows better than to ask him about it again. Minho's reply to him that evening is imprinted in his mind, a constant reminder of his boss's true emotions behind the arrogant mask he puts on.

 

Minho finishes his call, slipping the work phone into his pocket. He leans back in his chair, heaving a broken-down breath. Taemin smiles down gently at him, something he rarely ever does, and gingerly asks, "You ready?"

 

The man looks up from his chair, and having seen the rare, delicate smile on Taemin's face he feels slightly at ease, a grateful smile unconsciously gracing his lips, "Yeah."

 

 

"My boy!" "There he is!"

 

Mr. Lee's and Mr. Choi's respective greetings are simultaneous, with both men standing up to greet the young men who have just entered the meeting room.

 

The room is empty save for the four men, the long, sleek, black meeting table lined with similarly sleek chairs. Taemin and Minho are both glad to see their fathers, but instead of embracing them, they settle on the more professional hand-shake. People are watching them through the meeting room's glass walls after all, and they wouldn't want their employees to see their soft sides.

 

Once they are comfortably seated -- Minho and Taemin sitting beside each other with their fathers sitting across from them -- Yun Gyeom excitedly speaks with his booming voice, "So! How have things been going so far?"

 

"Well," Minho starts, all stiff and professional, "the sales have been improving in the past month, but the statistics show that we won't have much of a budget by the time we--"

 

"I'm not talking about business, boy! I'm talking about you two!" He gestures at the two men, "How are you two getting along?"

 

"Ah, well... We've been getting along nicely." Minho stammers out. Taemin tries not to let the blush crawling up his neck reach his face.

 

Mr. Choi crosses his arms smugly, eyeing his son, "Really now? So you won't be trying to get rid of Taemin again anytime soon?"

 

"Ah! O-Of course not!" On the inside, Minho embarrassedly face palms himself, because of his too-obvious stuttering and because just then he remembers his rash request to his father a while back; his childish request to fire Taemin.

 

"Again?" Taemin raises his brow at his boss, not completely getting what Mr. Choi had said, but having a faint idea of it. And frankly, from what he has understood, he doesn't like it one bit. He crosses his arms, staring daggers at Minho, "You tried to get rid of me?"

 

The elder waves his hands hastily, hurrying to explain himself. But Taemin's father does it for him, "Don't worry about it, son," Yun Jae looks his son straight in the eye, effectively softening the boy's glare. "It was just a brash decision on his part. I'm sure that he won't even think of doing that again now. Am I right, Minho?" Mr. Lee winks at Minho, and the boy embarrassedly nods. Taemin is feeling quite suspicious, wondering what his father meant by that, but he lets it go by looking away angrily and mumbling, "Okay."

 

Minho looks at him worriedly, afraid that the boy might still be upset with him. But then he spots Mr. Lee chuckling at his son, and that assures him that maybe Taemin really isn't upset with him anymore and that maybe things are indeed, in his assistant's words, okay.

 

He is starting to feel better, less crestfallen than how he was last night, when Yun Gyeom speaks up again. "How about Ms. Jung? How are things going with the lovely lady?"

 

Minho immediately tenses up. Just when he was starting to get into a better mood, Krystal comes in and ruins everything. He hates talking about Krystal, because it reminds him of how much of a fake he is, and how much of a phony story his whole life is. The woman serves as a reminder of how his life is merely being controlled by other people, like one big sham. That is why he hates the woman so much. Not because of her catty, annoying personality, but because of her role in Minho's life: the supporting actress in his fake love life.

 

So he tenses up in anger and agitation, but not enough for the fathers notice. But Taemin does. The brunette drops his glare for his boss when he sees the man clenching his fists under the table. In all the time that he knew Minho, he has grown to be familiar with the man's mannerisms, and this was one of them -- the most usual, actually.

 

Whenever he was agitated or feeling particularly enraged inside but is not allowed to lash out because of the situation he was in, he would always subtly take the frustration out on himself. He would clench his fists until his palm is almost seeping with blood, until he is calm enough to stop his fingers from harshly pressing into his hand. Taemin hated it whenever Minho did that, because first, he would always be the one taking care of the wounds right after, lightly chastising Minho for always giving him more work to do, and second, he doesn't appreciate seeing Minho hurt himself like that.

 

So before the man even has a chance of adding more harsh pressure into his palm, Taemin subtly takes his hand, hidden from their fathers' view. From the corner of his eyes, Taemin clearly sees that Minho is suprised by the gesture and the unfamiliar, soft feeling of Taemin's palm against his larger one. Taemin sees the way Minho jerked up a bit when he intertwines his fingers with Minho's. There was really no other way to stop the man from brutally pressing his fingers into his palm. He had to block the man's hand or else in a matter of minutes, there would be scarlet blood slowly seeping out from it.

 

When Taemin squeezes his hand in assurance, Minho doesn't look his way. The elder is looking straight ahead, pretending to listen to the older man in front of them. Taemin is looking straight ahead as well, not wanting to give away any of the interactions happening under the table. As he nods absentmindedly at what Mr. Choi was complaining about, he worriedly thinks that he might have gone a little too far by doing this, that he may have stepped over the invisible boundary that they had set in their boss-assistant relationship. But then he feels Minho gently squeeze back.

 

He forgets to keep the professional expression on his face because he ducks down his flushing face, smiling to himself giddily. He is glad that Minho is keeping the two older men busy by smoothly changing the topic of conversation from Ms. Jung to this month's sales reports.

 

It is easy for Minho to change the annoying topic that was Krystal to the entirely more enjoyable topic of sales reports all because of the soft, dainty hand that is in his. He was surprised at first, but he was immediately comforted because of the way Taemin's hand felt in his. There was nothing ual, intimate, or lustful in the way the brunette took hold of his hand, preventing him from harming himself. And that is what comforted Minho the most -- that when Taemin touched him, it was not out of ual desire or anything of the sort. Obscene caresses to his arm, shallow sensual grazes to his hand— that was what Minho had gotten used to. Women only ever touched him to get what they want, and that was mostly . But when Taemin touched him, it was entirely for Minho's benefit, and for his alone.

 

For the rest of the meeting, Taemin's hand touched nothing but Minho's.

 

 

---

 

 

FINALLY SOME 2MIN FLUFF~ It was hard to accurately depict the dynamic of their relationship in the last scene, but I hope it is enough. ;_; I just squeal whenever I see pictures of them subtly holding hands and whatnot. Gah I'm such a fangirl

KYAAAAAAAAAAAA

Okay I will shut up now

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