On Leadership Qualities and Keeping the Peace
Title: On Leadership Qualities and Keeping the Peace
Pairing: 2min
Rating: PG
Genre: fluffstration
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 2776
Sometimes Onew thought living with Minho and Taemin was a punishment. It wasn’t that they were bad roommates-they were some of his best friends, they always cleaned up after themselves (well, Minho did at least-Taemin tried, but he generally just ended up moving messes around the house) and they were quieter than Key and Jonghyun. In fact, he enjoyed having all his bandmates live with him, them included.
But the sexual tension was really killing him.
He had no idea if the pair thought no one knew what was going on between them, but Onew did. He was, after all, the leader of the group, and he had always watched after all his dongsaengs with affection and, yes, insight.
It hadn’t taken an awful lot for him to see when Minho and Taemin’s relationship had changed from the friendship they all shared to something…more.
They’d always been close. At first they were the “two youngest”, and then from that automatic link they’d easily moved on to become fast friends. Over the years Onew had seen a special sort of bond form between them; it was a vibe that couldn’t quite be defined as the familial dependence that was shared between all five of the group.
And lately, that vibe had intensified, had grown, bringing tension and hormones into the picture that were of wild proportions--the likes of which the dorm had never seen.
It had come as a bit of a shock to him, watching the change in the way the pair interacted. The way they looked at each other had become hotter, their skinship often lingering, their formerly light banter now laced with a different type of teasing. More than once Onew had had to up and leave whatever room he was in with them because he was afraid of being burned by all the sparks snapping between the two.
At first, he wasn’t necessarily comfortable with the idea of his two bandmates suddenly making cow eyes at each other. There were times he still felt slightly ill upon noticing Taemin watch Minho leave a room, his eyes raking over him with naked hunger. And he definitely wasn’t comfortable with the number of times he’d caught Minho checking out Taemin’s butt.
After a while though, Onew had become used to the idea of his two naive friends falling for each other. After initially observing the physical change between them, he’d also begun to notice how they complemented each other on a personal level. It was a more than cheesy thought, but he began to look at them as the sun and moon. The more he thought, the more it lined up--Taemin gave light, and Minho accepted it, held it before reflecting it. Minho was the steady one, offering routine and balance, and the other relied on the support. They balanced each other, their equal and separate qualities melding into a warm and trusting relationship.
Onew’s soft heart simply melted in the face of it. They were stupid for each other, and how could he deny them that?
He wasn’t sure that they’d resolved their feelings as of yet, but he’d long ago decided to keep quiet about it, to let this play out naturally. And if his romantic side secretly rooted for them, it was his business.
However, there were days like today when he wanted to simply throw them off of a cliff just to be done with it.
It had been something of a miserable afternoon. Everyone had been cooped up inside all day as a typhoon had whipped through the city. Their group dance practice at the studio had been canceled, which would have been a reason for lighter spirits, but they were stuck inside for the same reason they’d been liberated; the storm rendered travel totally impossible.
By the time evening rolled around, the day had worn Onew pretty thin. Jonghyun and Key had spent most of it bickering over everything from laundry to videogames and Onew had finally grown tired of it, choosing instead to find Minho and Taemin.
This was a mistake, he soon realized. The two didn’t seem bothered by the weather, taking it as an excuse to spend as much time as possible together. They were as antsy as the rest of them, but had somehow turned their surplus energy into each other, making a little hemisphere of happiness in the subdued dorm.
Popping their little love-bubble momentarily, Onew had suggested they watch a movie. They’d agreed, only to spend more time gazing at each other than the screen; when Onew couldn’t take the not-so-sneaky whispering any more, he’d decided to make hot chocolate-then they’d flirted over the marshmallows. After watching them bump hands and grin at each other for the millionth time, Onew was almost ready to go back to Jjong and Key’s fighting.
Declaring it dinnertime out of desperation, he escaped the kitchen to call in for fast food. He didn’t feel bad for indulging himself for dinner. Onew was only glad that the storm had let up enough for delivery to be allowed. When the boxes of pizza and buffalo wings arrived, he could have sobbed--if he had to listen to one more argument, or worse, witness one more sappy, adorable exchange of looks, he was going to flip.
“Food’s here!” He yelled to the apartment in general, whisking it into the dining room where Key was setting the table with napkins and milk. Jjong walked in with plates, looking up to roll his eyes.
“Of course you got chicken. Should’ve known,” he said.
“If you wanted something else, you could’ve gotten it,” said Onew unapologetically. “Can you honestly tell me you don’t want this?” He asked, wafting one of the boxes beneath the other’s nose.
Jjong only laughed and walked back into the kitchen.
Onew wasted no time in sitting down, quickly distributing the food. All his annoyance was forgotten as he dug in to his portion, oblivious to the other members crowding in to eat. He was relaxed for the first time that day, not even caring when Jonghyun stole one of Key’s wings (even though he had plenty of his own) and Key kicked him under the table. Nor could he care when Taemin and Minho started up again.
///
“Hey, Minnie, would you…do something for me?” Minho asked, voice low as he spoke across the table to Taemin. The boy stopped eating, raising his head to meeting his look with hot eyes as he immediately caught his drift.
“Do you want something, hyung?” He said, purposely licking crumbs off of his thumb, watching Minho watch him. Their gaze didn’t falter as Minho took his time replying.
“I need you to…” he paused to briefly run his tongue over his top lip. “pass me the salt.”
Letting out the breath he’d been holding in a hiss, Taemin complied, leaning over to offer it and letting Minho’s fingers brush his. Their eyes were still locked, each one drowning in the mood created by the poorly disguised charade.
“We need more milk!” complained Key, breaking the moment. “Jjong, would you mind-“
“I’ll get it.” said Taemin abruptly, snapping out of it and grabbing at the chance to cool his head. He ducked out before Key could confirm or deny.
What did he think he was doing, and at the dinner table?
“I’ll help him,” Minho said smoothly, following Taemin before anyone had a chance to point out that it didn’t take two people to retrieve a carton of milk.
Not really knowing anything besides that he needed to get Taemin alone for a minute, Minho walked into the kitchen. He was greeted by the tantalizing sight of Taemin bent over, reaching into the bottom shelf of the fridge, his skinny jeans displaying his tight butt and truly excellent legs without shame. Minho rolled his eyes to the heavens in appreciation as Taemin strained, slim hips shifting slightly as he struggled with something in the shelf.
Putting his hormones aside with some regret, Minho approached Taemin to see what he was having so much trouble with. Peeking over his shoulder, he laughed. Someone had tried to stuff the shelf with four milk cartons as opposed to the three that normally fit there. It was kind of amazing that they’d succeeded in wedging them there at all, but now they were all stuck solidly in the tiny space.
“Ugh!” Taemin yanked the corner of a carton, obviously frustrated. “I can’t believe this! Must've been Jjong-he’s the only one stupid enough to try it,” he complained, becoming increasingly frustrated at the milk. Minho winced slightly, only feeling half sorry for Jonghyun as he had to agree that he was probably the only one among them that would try something like this. He leaned over Taemin, lending his strength to prying the carton out of the space.
Taemin blushed at his closeness, Feeling the warmth of Minho’s body over his, the boy’s breath fluttering over the back of his neck and sending goosebumps prickling over his skin. Their bodies were folded together, and Taemin realized if he moved at all they’d really be in trouble; Minho was almost grinding on him in his effort to loosen the milk. Taemin bit his lip, fingers grown suddenly clumsy with this thought, and Minho only leaned in farther.
“Here, move your thumb over to the-” Minho was cut off as the carton suddenly came unstuck and they overbalanced, Taemin’s body rocking backwards into Minho’s. His butt bumped into Minho’s hips and they fell, Taemin literally landing hard in his lap, Minho helplessly flailing, unable to prevent his head from hitting the tile. He swore, and, panicked, Taemin twisted quickly, abandoning the milk in favor of cradling Minho’s head in his hands.
“Uwah! Sorry! Are you ok? Ugh, Jjong is so going to get it! This is his fault,” he babbled, still flushed as he ran his hands over Minho's head to check for blood. If I wasn’t so distracted…
“Ah, it’s fine, I’m fine,” groaned Minho, less occupied with his head than he was with the fact that Taemin was lying flush on top of him, legs between his own, unwittingly pressing their hips together. “Look, just get off, I can’t…” He trailed off as Taemin’s eyes flashed to his, realization dawning in them. His heart leapt as he became aware of exactly how their bodies were pressed together. Their faces were close, noses almost brushing, and Taemin watched as Minho pressed his lips together, swallowing hard.
Making his decision, he slipped a hand from behind the elder’s head, running his thumb instead over Minho’s bottom lip, a sly smile creeping over his face.
“Can’t what, hyung?” he whispered, leaning in to breathe hotly into Minho’s ear.
“Ah, I can’t…” Think. Speak. Breathe.
“Hm?” said Taemin lazily, flicking his tongue over the other’s earlobe. Minho had been teasing him all day, and here he finally was, warm (hot) beneath him, already helpless, so incredibly sexy and perfect and tasty.
“We can’t,” Minho said, more than a little breathless, his arms reaching up to contradict his words by binding the younger boy to his chest. Did Taemin even know what he was doing? They were sprawled in the middle of the kitchen floor, with the others just a room away.
But he’d been like this all day, teasing, tempting, and always stopping just short of breaking Minho’s freaking sanity, and the thought of breaking this moment to clarify that about made him want to cry.
He had no idea what to do about it, only knew what he wanted...and that was to kiss Taemin brainless, kitchen floor or not.
He brought his gaze up to Taemin’s, who was close, so close, his head tilting slightly, breath whispering over Minho’s mouth.
“You’re repeating yourself, hyung,” he murmured, pausing just above Minho’s mouth. In lieu of an answer, Minho slid his hand up Taemin’s back, cupping his head to yank him down, unceremoniously bringing their mouths together. He just didn’t care anymore.
They both gasped at the same time, the contact making instant fissures of shock and pleasure race through them both. The tension that had been sparking all day was finally released in the form of mobile mouths, roaming hands, straining bodies. Taemin parted his lips, letting his tongue meet Minho’s to taste, explore. At this Minho sat up slowly, bringing his hands to smooth over Taemin’s waist, who responded by simply bringing his legs around to cross around Minho’s own waist.
They broke apart, panting, cheeks flushed and eyes dark. Taemin stared at Minho, seeing everything he wanted. Seeing him stare back with equal need.
Without hesitation he unlaced his legs in favor of gripping the collar of Minho’s hoodie, using his leverage to shove him back against the cupboard. Straddling himself back on his lap, Taemin acknowledged the surprise in Minho’s eyes with a lightning grin before leaning forward to lay a smacking kiss on what he’d quickly decided was his absolutely wonderful mouth. Taemin dominated Minho gleefully, overwhelmed with happiness and relief. Why had he never done this before? It was perfect, he was perfect.
Minho groaned, taking this new flash of emotion eagerly. This was everything. Every insecurity, every fear he’d held was banished with the feel of Taemin in his arms. He was strong, vivid, and Minho wondered what was wrong with him for ever holding back. He met the other’s tongue with equal fervor, joy and need arousing him to complete abandonment.
Taemin pressed his mouth to Minho’s with unabashed pressure, trying desperately to kiss him as hard as possible. Minho’s head hit the cupboard, then tilted, Taemin literally forcing him in the direction of the floor again.
When Minho lost his balance, his head jerking sideways as their kiss was sloppily broken, they both paused to just look, just feel. Minho’s body was ridiculously crooked and Taemin was still gripping his sweatshirt, but neither cared. Not about the tile floor digging into various body parts, not about the semi-awkwardness of their positions, not about anything; it was all overshadowed by the fact that they had each other and that neither felt like letting go anytime soon.
Slowly, twin smiles crept across their faces and they lost it, bursting into laughter at the happiness, the still-fresh shock, the utter perfection of everything.
Then they were rolling around the kitchen floor, Minho wrapping his arms tightly around Taemin’s waist as they rocked back and forth, Taemin in turn beating his fist upon the tile, both completely giddy.
“Y-you looked like, like a f-flamingo! Your neck!” Taemin choked, shaking with mirth.
“Well, you-you licked my cheek, you c-clumsy oaf!” Minho eyes were streaming, his vision blurring as he tried to swipe away the tears of laughter.
It was as Taemin was impertinently doing so again that Onew found them, finally sent by an annoyed Key to see what had happened to the milk. He paused just outside the doorway, his smile spreading as he watched Minho’s jaw drop in disbelief and scrub at his cheek before he pinched Taemin’s butt in retaliation. He had to hold back laughter as they rolled, wrestling, Minho dropping kisses across Taemin’s flushed cheeks. He realized exactly what had happened to the milk as he peeked in, noting the door of the fridge still hanging open and the carton lying on it’s side next to it, totally forgotten.
He indulged himself for a moment, resting his hand on his heart as his sentimental side squeezed it with happiness. With a burst of affection, he did a little dance in the doorway, feeling light and fluffy, before he turned away to skip back to the dining room. It was about time this happened.
And maybe he could finally get some peace in the house.
Turning back into the dining room, opening his mouth with some lame excuse about not having milk, Onew froze. Key and Jonghyun were no longer in their places at the table. Instead of sitting they were crouched on the floor, bent over a scattering of spilled fries. But that wasn’t what made his jaw drop in despair.
They were perfectly still, their heads raised to face each other, only inches apart. Key’s eyes were wide, Jonghyun’s focused on his unwaveringly. Onew could see that on the floor, their fingers were tangled together over the fries.
Again, it was too easy to see what had happened.
Onew collapsed against the doorframe, biting back a groan as he scrunched his eyes shut and rubbed at his instantly aching temples.
Yeah, peace…or not.
Pairing: 2min
Rating: PG
Genre: fluffstration
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 2776
Sometimes Onew thought living with Minho and Taemin was a punishment. It wasn’t that they were bad roommates-they were some of his best friends, they always cleaned up after themselves (well, Minho did at least-Taemin tried, but he generally just ended up moving messes around the house) and they were quieter than Key and Jonghyun. In fact, he enjoyed having all his bandmates live with him, them included.
But the sexual tension was really killing him.
He had no idea if the pair thought no one knew what was going on between them, but Onew did. He was, after all, the leader of the group, and he had always watched after all his dongsaengs with affection and, yes, insight.
It hadn’t taken an awful lot for him to see when Minho and Taemin’s relationship had changed from the friendship they all shared to something…more.
They’d always been close. At first they were the “two youngest”, and then from that automatic link they’d easily moved on to become fast friends. Over the years Onew had seen a special sort of bond form between them; it was a vibe that couldn’t quite be defined as the familial dependence that was shared between all five of the group.
And lately, that vibe had intensified, had grown, bringing tension and hormones into the picture that were of wild proportions--the likes of which the dorm had never seen.
It had come as a bit of a shock to him, watching the change in the way the pair interacted. The way they looked at each other had become hotter, their skinship often lingering, their formerly light banter now laced with a different type of teasing. More than once Onew had had to up and leave whatever room he was in with them because he was afraid of being burned by all the sparks snapping between the two.
At first, he wasn’t necessarily comfortable with the idea of his two bandmates suddenly making cow eyes at each other. There were times he still felt slightly ill upon noticing Taemin watch Minho leave a room, his eyes raking over him with naked hunger. And he definitely wasn’t comfortable with the number of times he’d caught Minho checking out Taemin’s butt.
After a while though, Onew had become used to the idea of his two naive friends falling for each other. After initially observing the physical change between them, he’d also begun to notice how they complemented each other on a personal level. It was a more than cheesy thought, but he began to look at them as the sun and moon. The more he thought, the more it lined up--Taemin gave light, and Minho accepted it, held it before reflecting it. Minho was the steady one, offering routine and balance, and the other relied on the support. They balanced each other, their equal and separate qualities melding into a warm and trusting relationship.
Onew’s soft heart simply melted in the face of it. They were stupid for each other, and how could he deny them that?
He wasn’t sure that they’d resolved their feelings as of yet, but he’d long ago decided to keep quiet about it, to let this play out naturally. And if his romantic side secretly rooted for them, it was his business.
However, there were days like today when he wanted to simply throw them off of a cliff just to be done with it.
It had been something of a miserable afternoon. Everyone had been cooped up inside all day as a typhoon had whipped through the city. Their group dance practice at the studio had been canceled, which would have been a reason for lighter spirits, but they were stuck inside for the same reason they’d been liberated; the storm rendered travel totally impossible.
By the time evening rolled around, the day had worn Onew pretty thin. Jonghyun and Key had spent most of it bickering over everything from laundry to videogames and Onew had finally grown tired of it, choosing instead to find Minho and Taemin.
This was a mistake, he soon realized. The two didn’t seem bothered by the weather, taking it as an excuse to spend as much time as possible together. They were as antsy as the rest of them, but had somehow turned their surplus energy into each other, making a little hemisphere of happiness in the subdued dorm.
Popping their little love-bubble momentarily, Onew had suggested they watch a movie. They’d agreed, only to spend more time gazing at each other than the screen; when Onew couldn’t take the not-so-sneaky whispering any more, he’d decided to make hot chocolate-then they’d flirted over the marshmallows. After watching them bump hands and grin at each other for the millionth time, Onew was almost ready to go back to Jjong and Key’s fighting.
Declaring it dinnertime out of desperation, he escaped the kitchen to call in for fast food. He didn’t feel bad for indulging himself for dinner. Onew was only glad that the storm had let up enough for delivery to be allowed. When the boxes of pizza and buffalo wings arrived, he could have sobbed--if he had to listen to one more argument, or worse, witness one more sappy, adorable exchange of looks, he was going to flip.
“Food’s here!” He yelled to the apartment in general, whisking it into the dining room where Key was setting the table with napkins and milk. Jjong walked in with plates, looking up to roll his eyes.
“Of course you got chicken. Should’ve known,” he said.
“If you wanted something else, you could’ve gotten it,” said Onew unapologetically. “Can you honestly tell me you don’t want this?” He asked, wafting one of the boxes beneath the other’s nose.
Jjong only laughed and walked back into the kitchen.
Onew wasted no time in sitting down, quickly distributing the food. All his annoyance was forgotten as he dug in to his portion, oblivious to the other members crowding in to eat. He was relaxed for the first time that day, not even caring when Jonghyun stole one of Key’s wings (even though he had plenty of his own) and Key kicked him under the table. Nor could he care when Taemin and Minho started up again.
///
“Hey, Minnie, would you…do something for me?” Minho asked, voice low as he spoke across the table to Taemin. The boy stopped eating, raising his head to meeting his look with hot eyes as he immediately caught his drift.
“Do you want something, hyung?” He said, purposely licking crumbs off of his thumb, watching Minho watch him. Their gaze didn’t falter as Minho took his time replying.
“I need you to…” he paused to briefly run his tongue over his top lip. “pass me the salt.”
Letting out the breath he’d been holding in a hiss, Taemin complied, leaning over to offer it and letting Minho’s fingers brush his. Their eyes were still locked, each one drowning in the mood created by the poorly disguised charade.
“We need more milk!” complained Key, breaking the moment. “Jjong, would you mind-“
“I’ll get it.” said Taemin abruptly, snapping out of it and grabbing at the chance to cool his head. He ducked out before Key could confirm or deny.
What did he think he was doing, and at the dinner table?
“I’ll help him,” Minho said smoothly, following Taemin before anyone had a chance to point out that it didn’t take two people to retrieve a carton of milk.
Not really knowing anything besides that he needed to get Taemin alone for a minute, Minho walked into the kitchen. He was greeted by the tantalizing sight of Taemin bent over, reaching into the bottom shelf of the fridge, his skinny jeans displaying his tight butt and truly excellent legs without shame. Minho rolled his eyes to the heavens in appreciation as Taemin strained, slim hips shifting slightly as he struggled with something in the shelf.
Putting his hormones aside with some regret, Minho approached Taemin to see what he was having so much trouble with. Peeking over his shoulder, he laughed. Someone had tried to stuff the shelf with four milk cartons as opposed to the three that normally fit there. It was kind of amazing that they’d succeeded in wedging them there at all, but now they were all stuck solidly in the tiny space.
“Ugh!” Taemin yanked the corner of a carton, obviously frustrated. “I can’t believe this! Must've been Jjong-he’s the only one stupid enough to try it,” he complained, becoming increasingly frustrated at the milk. Minho winced slightly, only feeling half sorry for Jonghyun as he had to agree that he was probably the only one among them that would try something like this. He leaned over Taemin, lending his strength to prying the carton out of the space.
Taemin blushed at his closeness, Feeling the warmth of Minho’s body over his, the boy’s breath fluttering over the back of his neck and sending goosebumps prickling over his skin. Their bodies were folded together, and Taemin realized if he moved at all they’d really be in trouble; Minho was almost grinding on him in his effort to loosen the milk. Taemin bit his lip, fingers grown suddenly clumsy with this thought, and Minho only leaned in farther.
“Here, move your thumb over to the-” Minho was cut off as the carton suddenly came unstuck and they overbalanced, Taemin’s body rocking backwards into Minho’s. His butt bumped into Minho’s hips and they fell, Taemin literally landing hard in his lap, Minho helplessly flailing, unable to prevent his head from hitting the tile. He swore, and, panicked, Taemin twisted quickly, abandoning the milk in favor of cradling Minho’s head in his hands.
“Uwah! Sorry! Are you ok? Ugh, Jjong is so going to get it! This is his fault,” he babbled, still flushed as he ran his hands over Minho's head to check for blood. If I wasn’t so distracted…
“Ah, it’s fine, I’m fine,” groaned Minho, less occupied with his head than he was with the fact that Taemin was lying flush on top of him, legs between his own, unwittingly pressing their hips together. “Look, just get off, I can’t…” He trailed off as Taemin’s eyes flashed to his, realization dawning in them. His heart leapt as he became aware of exactly how their bodies were pressed together. Their faces were close, noses almost brushing, and Taemin watched as Minho pressed his lips together, swallowing hard.
Making his decision, he slipped a hand from behind the elder’s head, running his thumb instead over Minho’s bottom lip, a sly smile creeping over his face.
“Can’t what, hyung?” he whispered, leaning in to breathe hotly into Minho’s ear.
“Ah, I can’t…” Think. Speak. Breathe.
“Hm?” said Taemin lazily, flicking his tongue over the other’s earlobe. Minho had been teasing him all day, and here he finally was, warm (hot) beneath him, already helpless, so incredibly sexy and perfect and tasty.
“We can’t,” Minho said, more than a little breathless, his arms reaching up to contradict his words by binding the younger boy to his chest. Did Taemin even know what he was doing? They were sprawled in the middle of the kitchen floor, with the others just a room away.
But he’d been like this all day, teasing, tempting, and always stopping just short of breaking Minho’s freaking sanity, and the thought of breaking this moment to clarify that about made him want to cry.
He had no idea what to do about it, only knew what he wanted...and that was to kiss Taemin brainless, kitchen floor or not.
He brought his gaze up to Taemin’s, who was close, so close, his head tilting slightly, breath whispering over Minho’s mouth.
“You’re repeating yourself, hyung,” he murmured, pausing just above Minho’s mouth. In lieu of an answer, Minho slid his hand up Taemin’s back, cupping his head to yank him down, unceremoniously bringing their mouths together. He just didn’t care anymore.
They both gasped at the same time, the contact making instant fissures of shock and pleasure race through them both. The tension that had been sparking all day was finally released in the form of mobile mouths, roaming hands, straining bodies. Taemin parted his lips, letting his tongue meet Minho’s to taste, explore. At this Minho sat up slowly, bringing his hands to smooth over Taemin’s waist, who responded by simply bringing his legs around to cross around Minho’s own waist.
They broke apart, panting, cheeks flushed and eyes dark. Taemin stared at Minho, seeing everything he wanted. Seeing him stare back with equal need.
Without hesitation he unlaced his legs in favor of gripping the collar of Minho’s hoodie, using his leverage to shove him back against the cupboard. Straddling himself back on his lap, Taemin acknowledged the surprise in Minho’s eyes with a lightning grin before leaning forward to lay a smacking kiss on what he’d quickly decided was his absolutely wonderful mouth. Taemin dominated Minho gleefully, overwhelmed with happiness and relief. Why had he never done this before? It was perfect, he was perfect.
Minho groaned, taking this new flash of emotion eagerly. This was everything. Every insecurity, every fear he’d held was banished with the feel of Taemin in his arms. He was strong, vivid, and Minho wondered what was wrong with him for ever holding back. He met the other’s tongue with equal fervor, joy and need arousing him to complete abandonment.
Taemin pressed his mouth to Minho’s with unabashed pressure, trying desperately to kiss him as hard as possible. Minho’s head hit the cupboard, then tilted, Taemin literally forcing him in the direction of the floor again.
When Minho lost his balance, his head jerking sideways as their kiss was sloppily broken, they both paused to just look, just feel. Minho’s body was ridiculously crooked and Taemin was still gripping his sweatshirt, but neither cared. Not about the tile floor digging into various body parts, not about the semi-awkwardness of their positions, not about anything; it was all overshadowed by the fact that they had each other and that neither felt like letting go anytime soon.
Slowly, twin smiles crept across their faces and they lost it, bursting into laughter at the happiness, the still-fresh shock, the utter perfection of everything.
Then they were rolling around the kitchen floor, Minho wrapping his arms tightly around Taemin’s waist as they rocked back and forth, Taemin in turn beating his fist upon the tile, both completely giddy.
“Y-you looked like, like a f-flamingo! Your neck!” Taemin choked, shaking with mirth.
“Well, you-you licked my cheek, you c-clumsy oaf!” Minho eyes were streaming, his vision blurring as he tried to swipe away the tears of laughter.
It was as Taemin was impertinently doing so again that Onew found them, finally sent by an annoyed Key to see what had happened to the milk. He paused just outside the doorway, his smile spreading as he watched Minho’s jaw drop in disbelief and scrub at his cheek before he pinched Taemin’s butt in retaliation. He had to hold back laughter as they rolled, wrestling, Minho dropping kisses across Taemin’s flushed cheeks. He realized exactly what had happened to the milk as he peeked in, noting the door of the fridge still hanging open and the carton lying on it’s side next to it, totally forgotten.
He indulged himself for a moment, resting his hand on his heart as his sentimental side squeezed it with happiness. With a burst of affection, he did a little dance in the doorway, feeling light and fluffy, before he turned away to skip back to the dining room. It was about time this happened.
And maybe he could finally get some peace in the house.
Turning back into the dining room, opening his mouth with some lame excuse about not having milk, Onew froze. Key and Jonghyun were no longer in their places at the table. Instead of sitting they were crouched on the floor, bent over a scattering of spilled fries. But that wasn’t what made his jaw drop in despair.
They were perfectly still, their heads raised to face each other, only inches apart. Key’s eyes were wide, Jonghyun’s focused on his unwaveringly. Onew could see that on the floor, their fingers were tangled together over the fries.
Again, it was too easy to see what had happened.
Onew collapsed against the doorframe, biting back a groan as he scrunched his eyes shut and rubbed at his instantly aching temples.
Yeah, peace…or not.