AN | Hello! No, you're not seeing things. It's really me and this is really an update!

I'm sorry this update has taken way too long! It's been on mind a lot to update but I've never been in the right place to, and there are a whole bunch of wips I also need(ed) to dedicate my time to. But better late than never, right? I know some of you have been really eager to read more, and I'm incredibly grateful for your patience and your support. It really means a lot to me, and it's how I could come back and push this update out now. Thank you <3

Compared to the previous chapter, and just in general, this chapter seems a lot shorter when I step out of editing it and view it in its entirety. Then I remembered that each chapter is just a portion of a day in the week they spend with each other, so it doesn't necessarily have to be tremendously long. It'll vary, I suppose. Knowing this fic has only two days/chapters left until its finished, especially when this sequel was never originally planned and just sprung out of nowhere, I'm so proud of myself for even making it this far. And I owe so much to you guys for sticking around and telling me how much you're enjoying this, so big thanks!

Now this fic is going to be my last on this site and last kpop related, but if you want a bit more insight on the why then I don't mind making a blog post about it.

TLDR: You guys don't have to wait any longer because the update's here--I apologise for it being overdue! But I hope you enjoy this despite how short it is, and this might be my last kpop fic ever (not counting other unfinished ones I'm on the fence about deleting or also finishing).

Oh and be warned, this chapter might possible give you guys a serious sugar overdose! <3

It happens to be a rainy friday for them, and the best opportunity for the day of the week when they huddle up together on a couch and watch film after film after film—until the beginnig of tomorrow is a quiet sunrise peeking through their lashes and the city is starting to function again. 

A year ago, Minho was different. He was sitting here but he couldn't process that he was, that he'd given in to his neighbour's persistence and agreed to their first—unofficial but still—date! Sitting here but not processing it. Not believing that he'd given into his neighbour's incessant tugs on the arm. It was around this time he became aware of his feelings, that maybe they weren't nonexistent and he was actually factuated.

He blamed Taemin then and he blames him now now for barging in to his life and practically shifting all negative clutter out of Minho's heart to take sole residence.

He managed it, the little weirdo.

Minho handles heating up the popcorn just like back then. Call him strange but he wasn't exactly fond of Taemin nearly burning his entire apartment down. (He would've loved that though, wouldn't he? Would've used it as an excuse to suddenly move in with Minho, where the chances to intrude on him in the shower and while changing were high and the chances to stop him were limited).

Taemin pouts at him from the couch, "I see you're clothed."

"Yeah. Like any other day."

Eyeing the simple pyjama set on his boyfriend has his lips sinking further, his pout strengthening.

"Don't look at me like that. Wearing pjyamas to our movie nights was your idea."

"Back when I thought you slept you in just boxers or nothing, yeah!"

"That's your own fault for being so erted."

"Or is it your fault, hyung, for being so god-looking?!"

"Knock it off." Minho knocks a hand down firmly but gently on Taemin's head and the crying stops like a button had been pressed. While his boyfriend remains draped over the couch in defeat, Minho sits next to him with the bowl of popcorn, piecing being thrown in to his mouth one after the other, a buttery glazing across his fingers. "So what are we watching this time?" He asks but he has a feeling. Or rather he knows, since this particular Friday out of all of their Friday Movie Nights happens to be special.

Taemin, naturally, hasn't forgotten either. It's like him to remember important events, however small they may seem to others, and commemorate them appropriately. But there's the problem: placing Lee Taemin within a radius of appropriation. "Well, you see..." Sitting properly now, he holds up three cases: Bluerays of the Footloose remake, the Twilight Boxset and the cute, colourful with an explicitly-illustrated cover for Junjou Romantica 3. (Minho squints at it questionably because 'they made a third one?! Really?! Jeez...' and he knows where that'll lead to). "Since this is a special occasion and all," his head bashfully tips by his shoulder and he grins, "I figured we'd watch what we watched that night."

"Right." Minho says, not necessarily agreeing to the selection, just acknowledging because he saw it coming. He also should've seen this coming too...

"And," Taemin, with an innocent expression, whips out a fourth case with a cover even more explicit--so much it's internally blurred in his boyfriend's mind the way media stations do it, trying to overlook the compromising position of two men. "In case you're much more confident than last time and want the mood set for us."

Honestly, how did he not see this coming? Today is just like last time! Minho, twitching and blushing at the nonexistent deceny of his boyfriend with no shame in exposing these kinds of things, turns away and pushes his hand at the case to move it, to Taemin's disappointment. "No mood is gonna be set!"

"We all have our needs."

"And yours are out of control!"

"In the words of Katniss Everdeen: I strongly volunteer."

"Damn it, stop!"

"You're so shy. It's cute."

"Look who's talking...!" Minho accidentally makes that indirect compliment his remark, barely sparing a moment to think about it and just seeing Taemin's face all lit up and...and really happy.

Taemin blinks at him, momentarily confused. Then he laughs.

Luckily for Minho, he doesn't need any of the films explained to him. Though he may still, now and again, be a college student deprived of time to chill with movies, his heavy workload dominating his attention next to Taemin. Footloose is the first film they put on, like last time, and every scene is familiar to him. He watches with a neutral expression, his head in his hand. Eventually he feels tugs on the corner of his shirt. "Yeah, I know."

Taemin says nothing. He doesn't let go, and he doesn't look away from the film; it's present the iconic scene of Kevin Bacon—not Pork Chops, Minho—pouring all his aggression into a powerful choreography in an empty car warehouse. Taemin is dazed but serious when he says, "I can do that, you know."

Minho turns, "Hm?"

"Dance like that. My mom made me take lessons, remmeber?"

Sort of. Minho yawns, "Thought that was ice-skating?" Which is another whole misadventure they had together that he's glad they aren't commemorating annually. He wouldn't last through the fractures and aches and near-deaths.

"I told you, they're the same thing."

"They're really not, Taemin