lj, i thought we weren't going to fight about html again.
title: five steps to falling apart (and falling together)
group: SHINee
pairing: minho/taemin
summary: fan service is inevitable, taemin knows. he’s been slowly preparing himself for it-but fan service with minho? really? as if his life doesn’t suck enough already.
notes: a late birthday gift for the lovely demisree, who has been asking for a 2min fic for a very long time~ (it’s my first 2min fic though, so i know it’s a little awkward. bear with me? i’ll get better, i promise!)
five.
“Have you guys ever thought about fan service?” their manager asks one day. “It’ll really boost your popularity.”
“Eh…don’t Jonghyun and Key take care of that already?” Taemin asks, embarrassed. The thought of doing fan service with any of his hyungs makes him nervous.
“Ah, yes, actually.” Their manager flips through some papers. “I’ve been looking through some forums, and they’ve named you guys JongKey. But it seems like there’s another really popular pairing…”
“Let me guess,” Jonghyun exclaims, taking Key’s hand in his and intertwining their fingers. “Minho and Taemin!”
He blushes a little at this. “No way!”
“Actually, yeah,” their manager says. “They call it 2min.”
Taemin stares at everyone with his mouth hanging open, before glancing at Minho. The older boy blinks in surprise, but otherwise, remains unfazed.
“Wait, wait.” Onew waves his hands to catch their attention. “What about me?”
Pause. “There hasn’t been much about you. Sorry.”
Everyone laughs, but Taemin’s mind has already wandered elsewhere. People think that him and Minho are cute together? Really? It’s not like they treat each other differently, to be honest…well, maybe a little? But it’s not like he’s ever thought of Minho that way. Too much. Or at all.
Minho catches his eye, and he looks away, embarrassed.
four.
It’s after a performance of Hello that Jonghyun mouths to him, “2min, 2min!” Taemin laughs nervously, seeing Key telling Minho the same thing. As they exit the stage, Jonghyun and Key easily hold hands, walking off leisurely. Minho looks at Taemin a little nervously, holding his hand out a little.
There isn’t much for him to do other than to take the hand, so he does, noticing that Minho’s palms are just as sweaty as his. He hears the fans cheering behind them, and he smiles a little to himself-not because they’re giving such a positive response, but because Minho’s grip around his hand is loose and comforting, and his thumb is ghosting across his knuckles. It feels a little weird, to not mind it so much, but he just takes it as it is. Taemin and Minho are close, and a little hand-holding is just going to make them closer.
Maybe fan service isn’t so bad after all.
In the car ride back to their dorm, Minho is quiet as usual, and Taemin participates in the others’ conversation. While everyone else getting ready for bed, he and Minho are brushing their teeth in the bathroom.
“Should we do that more often?” Taemin asks, spitting out his toothpaste.
“Mm? Do what?” Minho’s words are muffled by his toothbrush.
“Ah, you know…hold hands, and stuff.” He looks away, a little embarrassed. He concentrates on rinsing his toothbrush so he doesn’t have to look at the older boy.
“Ah…” Minho spits his toothpaste out as well. “Yeah, I’m fine with it. Maybe we should practice? So we don’t look as awkward on stage.”
“Oh, we’re rehearsing now, too?” The thought of holding hands with Minho even when no one’s watching…
“We don’t have to if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”
“It’s not that, it’s just…” Is it even okay for them to do that? Do boys usually do that? Well, Jonghyun and Key do it all the time, but…they’re Jonghyun and Key. They’re practically a married couple, but Taemin and Minho aren’t. And anyway, shouldn’t Minho be more interested in girls-
“Taemin-ah,” Minho says, pulling him out of his thoughts. “We don’t have to do fan service if you don’t want to.” He ruffles his hair, and Taemin’s heart jumps at the feeling of his fingers against his head.
“No, we should work hard for the fans!”
It’s quiet for a moment, and then Minho smiles, expression unreadable. “Yeah, the fans.” He holds his hand out again, and Taemin takes it shyly, letting the older boy lead him out of the bathroom and into the living room, where the rest of the guys are, watching television and just relaxing after a long day.
“Hey, hey!” Onew calls out upon seeing them. “I think we need a sixth member! I feel so lonely!” They laugh along to entertain him, like usual, but never quite answer his question-like usual.
Minho’s hand is warm now, and they sit on the floor, since the other three boys have taken up all the space on the couch. Their fingers remain interlocked for the duration of the time in front of the television, and after a while, Taemin just forgets about it, and his heartbeat returns to normal.
He likes Minho. He really does. But he’s been trying to stop, because…well. It’s sort of self-explanatory, really. It’s not exactly appropriate.
But he can’t find many reasons as to why he should stop, when Minho is sitting beside him and breathing calmly, acting as if holding hands isn’t such a big deal. As if he always holds hands with other guys. Taemin’s heart lurches a little at that. How many guys has Minho held hands with? None, right? Minho’s always been a little more introverted than the others…
He mentally slaps himself for even being worried about the matter.
Fan service is good. Fan service is…good.
three.
Okay. Yeah. Fan service is not good.
It’s a few months into satisfying everyone’s dream of 2min, and Taemin is beginning to get sick of it. Not that he’s sick of Minho’s arm around his shoulders, or his hand at the small of his back, or his thumb brushing across his knuckles-more like how he responds to it. Taemin finds himself leaning into the older boy’s touch, accepting it openly and willingly, whether they’re in public or within the four walls of their home. It’s not right, he thinks, to be this comfortable with it.
So the next time Minho’s hand settles on top of his, like it belongs there (and it does, it really does), he pulls away. He doesn’t look at him, in fear of what his expression may show.
(It’s getting too personal. I’m putting my heart into my actions.)
Later that day, when Minho’s arm casually snakes around his shoulders, Taemin makes it a point to gently pull away, suddenly making conversation with Onew. And again, when Minho ruffles his hair. Taemin just ducks out of the room, locking himself in the bathroom instead.
He sinks to the ground, staring at the opposite wall, wondering why something that makes him happy is considered wrong.
The next day, all of Minho’s affections stop.
two.
“The fans have been asking if Minho and Taemin got into a fight,” their manager says, sliding some papers down the table to the members. They’re printouts of the online forums. “What happened between you two?”
“Oh, nothing,” Taemin reassures before Minho can speak, smiling. “It just hasn’t been happening lately, is all.”
“Then you better get back to it,” their manager grumbles. “They’re upset over it.”
Taemin can feel Minho’s stare against his skin, but he wills himself not to look over. He needs to stop this. Once he sorts of his feelings, the fan service can start again. How can he make others happy when he can’t even make himself happy first?
He clenches his fists underneath the table, suddenly very frustrated with himself.
one.
It’s evening when they finally finish their schedule. Taemin tells the others that he wants to practice some more of his dancing, so they leave first. The silence of the dance studio is blissful compared to Key’s voice, Jonghyun’s laughter, Onew’s gags. The silence makes him close his eyes and absorb it in, sinking into its calm depths and forgetting all about Minho’s constant-and almost oppressive-presence.
He can’t think when the older boy is around anymore. The only thought that clouds his mind is that he needs to get out of there, and fast-there’s no longer any reason behind it; it’s just pure instinct. Taemin feels like if he lets himself enjoy the small amounts of skinship between him and Minho, he’s jeopardizing the entire group.
When his mind finally clears, he plays the music, and dances. Dances to his heart’s content, dances the way he does when the stress becomes too much, when life becomes too much. He watches his movement and angles in the mirror, criticizing himself when he’s short of perfection, when he forgets a part. Because dancing is the only thing in his life that he can control. It’s the only thing that he can decide for himself.
When he finally stops, he’s tired and sweaty. Some of his hair that he had tied up has fallen out and is stuck to his face uncomfortably.
He’s exhausted.
Taemin makes his way over to his duffel bag, grabs his towel, and wipes his face. He’ll go home, shower, and go straight to bed. Hopefully, the others won’t bother him tonight. He doesn’t want to be bothered tonight.
But just as if the world wants to spite him, he sees Minho sitting on the steps outside of the studio, waiting for him.
“Hyung!” he says in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Minho looks up at him, blinking blearily. It looks as if he’s fallen asleep, sitting there. Has he been waiting for him this entire time? The others have left over an hour ago.
“I wanted to talk to you,” the older boy says, standing up rolling his shoulders. “I couldn’t think of any other way to approach you, because it seems like you’ve been avoiding me lately.” Taemin looks at him-his tired posture, his ruffled hair, and his dark, dark eyes. He’s never been able to read him. He hates that.
“Oh,” he responds lamely, suddenly nervous. His hands clam up, and he plays with his fingers. “What is it?”
“What happened, Taemin-ah?” The way Minho says his name makes him shiver. He says it softly-like it’s something precious. “Was it something I did?”
“I-no, it’s nothing. Really, don’t worry about it.”
“You’re lying.” When the older boy says that with no hesitation, Taemin flinches. Why is that Minho can read him so easily, and yet, Taemin can’t even guess what’s on his mind? It’s not fair. Not fair at all. “If I did something wrong, just tell me.”
“I just”-he swallows when he realizes how intense Minho’s gaze is. “I like you, Hyung! Okay? I just-I can’t do this stupid fan service when I’m busy trying to get over you!”
There’s a moment of silence, and a wave of terror washes over Taemin. His blood runs cold, and he stares at Minho with wide eyes, wondering what he could do to cover it up. It’s not that it slipped out by accident-but Minho is showing absolutely no reaction whatsoever, and Taemin figures that he’s probably thinking about how to let him down gently. Shit. Shit.
He should’ve just kept quiet. He should’ve made up an excuse.
But he could never lie to Minho.
(But it’s just, Taemin thought he had an actual chance. Minho’s eyes have always been a little softer when looking at him, his voice a little more loving.)
But suddenly, the older boy laughs. It’s a small laugh, and so, so inappropriate, considering Taemin’s quickly breaking heart-but through his smile, Minho says, “Why would you want to get over me?”
“W-What?” he sputters. “Because it’s bad! Because I’m getting too personal!”
Minho tilts his head to the side a little. Taemin thinks he’s purposely trying to be cute. “Wouldn’t that be the point, Taemin-ah?” he asks softly, stepping closer to him. Taemin freezes up, unsure of what he’s doing or what’s happening. This is exactly what he’s been avoiding-his mind going blank, his heart jumping to his throat, his wishing that he’d be just a little closer so he could feel him breathing next to him-
“Hyung?” he asks cautiously when he feels Minho’s fingers against his cheek. “What are you doing?”
“I thought you knew already, but I guess you didn’t.” The older boy smiles wryly. “I like you too, Taemin-ah. So…stop trying to get over me. I wouldn’t appreciate it.”
“Ah…” He nods faintly, not actually registering a word Minho said, because he’s way too close to even process what’s happening, let alone be happy about it. Minho’s thumb brushes across his skin, and Taemin swallows subconsciously. This is going to be his first kiss, he realizes faintly. His first kiss is going to be with a boy. His first kiss is going to be with Minho.
His first kiss is going to be perfect.
Their lips touch lightly, with the endearing bashfulness that Taemin’s grown to love about Minho. He can only stand still as the older boy pulls away a little, as if to judge his reaction. A moment passes, and he kisses him again-longer, but just as tender and much more loving. Taemin’s eyes close, and he sighs against Minho’s mouth, finally feeling things fall into place.
“Let’s continue with the fan service?”
“That sounds like a very good idea, Hyung.”
zero.
“What,” their manager says, tossing a crème colored folder onto the table, “is this?”
Jonghyun is the closest one to the folder, so he reaches for it and looks at it first. “Whoa!” He shows Key immediately, who bursts into laughter. Onew tries to keep himself together when he sees it, and once it’s passed to Minho, all he does it smile a little smugly.
The folder reaches Taemin last, but when he sees its implications, he blanches a little. It’s an edited picture (from the forums, no doubt) of him and Minho, and-
“They’re just mosquito bites!” he exclaims, trying to cover it up. “It’s nothing, I swear! It’s summer and we’re bound to have some mosquito bites!” Minho joins everyone else’s laughter-out of embarrassment and not knowing what else to do, probably-and Taemin is the only one left who’s not clutching his stomach, attempting to calm himself. He’s seriously at a loss. It’s okay if the rest of the guys know about him and Minho, but now, their fans know. The internet knows. The entire world knows. He could just die of embarrassment.
(But that doesn’t mean he wants to forget how he got that mark on his neck-because Minho’s lips against his skin, his gentle nipping is something he definitely doesn’t want to forget. Ever. Nor does he want to forget the way Minho tastes, the way he sighs Taemin’s name breathily and smoothes his hair down with surprisingly gentleness when he pauses in his actions, embarrassed and not knowing what to do.)
So all he does is just sit there helplessly, as the rest of them laugh.
group: SHINee
pairing: minho/taemin
summary: fan service is inevitable, taemin knows. he’s been slowly preparing himself for it-but fan service with minho? really? as if his life doesn’t suck enough already.
notes: a late birthday gift for the lovely demisree, who has been asking for a 2min fic for a very long time~ (it’s my first 2min fic though, so i know it’s a little awkward. bear with me? i’ll get better, i promise!)
five.
“Have you guys ever thought about fan service?” their manager asks one day. “It’ll really boost your popularity.”
“Eh…don’t Jonghyun and Key take care of that already?” Taemin asks, embarrassed. The thought of doing fan service with any of his hyungs makes him nervous.
“Ah, yes, actually.” Their manager flips through some papers. “I’ve been looking through some forums, and they’ve named you guys JongKey. But it seems like there’s another really popular pairing…”
“Let me guess,” Jonghyun exclaims, taking Key’s hand in his and intertwining their fingers. “Minho and Taemin!”
He blushes a little at this. “No way!”
“Actually, yeah,” their manager says. “They call it 2min.”
Taemin stares at everyone with his mouth hanging open, before glancing at Minho. The older boy blinks in surprise, but otherwise, remains unfazed.
“Wait, wait.” Onew waves his hands to catch their attention. “What about me?”
Pause. “There hasn’t been much about you. Sorry.”
Everyone laughs, but Taemin’s mind has already wandered elsewhere. People think that him and Minho are cute together? Really? It’s not like they treat each other differently, to be honest…well, maybe a little? But it’s not like he’s ever thought of Minho that way. Too much. Or at all.
Minho catches his eye, and he looks away, embarrassed.
four.
It’s after a performance of Hello that Jonghyun mouths to him, “2min, 2min!” Taemin laughs nervously, seeing Key telling Minho the same thing. As they exit the stage, Jonghyun and Key easily hold hands, walking off leisurely. Minho looks at Taemin a little nervously, holding his hand out a little.
There isn’t much for him to do other than to take the hand, so he does, noticing that Minho’s palms are just as sweaty as his. He hears the fans cheering behind them, and he smiles a little to himself-not because they’re giving such a positive response, but because Minho’s grip around his hand is loose and comforting, and his thumb is ghosting across his knuckles. It feels a little weird, to not mind it so much, but he just takes it as it is. Taemin and Minho are close, and a little hand-holding is just going to make them closer.
Maybe fan service isn’t so bad after all.
In the car ride back to their dorm, Minho is quiet as usual, and Taemin participates in the others’ conversation. While everyone else getting ready for bed, he and Minho are brushing their teeth in the bathroom.
“Should we do that more often?” Taemin asks, spitting out his toothpaste.
“Mm? Do what?” Minho’s words are muffled by his toothbrush.
“Ah, you know…hold hands, and stuff.” He looks away, a little embarrassed. He concentrates on rinsing his toothbrush so he doesn’t have to look at the older boy.
“Ah…” Minho spits his toothpaste out as well. “Yeah, I’m fine with it. Maybe we should practice? So we don’t look as awkward on stage.”
“Oh, we’re rehearsing now, too?” The thought of holding hands with Minho even when no one’s watching…
“We don’t have to if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”
“It’s not that, it’s just…” Is it even okay for them to do that? Do boys usually do that? Well, Jonghyun and Key do it all the time, but…they’re Jonghyun and Key. They’re practically a married couple, but Taemin and Minho aren’t. And anyway, shouldn’t Minho be more interested in girls-
“Taemin-ah,” Minho says, pulling him out of his thoughts. “We don’t have to do fan service if you don’t want to.” He ruffles his hair, and Taemin’s heart jumps at the feeling of his fingers against his head.
“No, we should work hard for the fans!”
It’s quiet for a moment, and then Minho smiles, expression unreadable. “Yeah, the fans.” He holds his hand out again, and Taemin takes it shyly, letting the older boy lead him out of the bathroom and into the living room, where the rest of the guys are, watching television and just relaxing after a long day.
“Hey, hey!” Onew calls out upon seeing them. “I think we need a sixth member! I feel so lonely!” They laugh along to entertain him, like usual, but never quite answer his question-like usual.
Minho’s hand is warm now, and they sit on the floor, since the other three boys have taken up all the space on the couch. Their fingers remain interlocked for the duration of the time in front of the television, and after a while, Taemin just forgets about it, and his heartbeat returns to normal.
He likes Minho. He really does. But he’s been trying to stop, because…well. It’s sort of self-explanatory, really. It’s not exactly appropriate.
But he can’t find many reasons as to why he should stop, when Minho is sitting beside him and breathing calmly, acting as if holding hands isn’t such a big deal. As if he always holds hands with other guys. Taemin’s heart lurches a little at that. How many guys has Minho held hands with? None, right? Minho’s always been a little more introverted than the others…
He mentally slaps himself for even being worried about the matter.
Fan service is good. Fan service is…good.
three.
Okay. Yeah. Fan service is not good.
It’s a few months into satisfying everyone’s dream of 2min, and Taemin is beginning to get sick of it. Not that he’s sick of Minho’s arm around his shoulders, or his hand at the small of his back, or his thumb brushing across his knuckles-more like how he responds to it. Taemin finds himself leaning into the older boy’s touch, accepting it openly and willingly, whether they’re in public or within the four walls of their home. It’s not right, he thinks, to be this comfortable with it.
So the next time Minho’s hand settles on top of his, like it belongs there (and it does, it really does), he pulls away. He doesn’t look at him, in fear of what his expression may show.
(It’s getting too personal. I’m putting my heart into my actions.)
Later that day, when Minho’s arm casually snakes around his shoulders, Taemin makes it a point to gently pull away, suddenly making conversation with Onew. And again, when Minho ruffles his hair. Taemin just ducks out of the room, locking himself in the bathroom instead.
He sinks to the ground, staring at the opposite wall, wondering why something that makes him happy is considered wrong.
The next day, all of Minho’s affections stop.
two.
“The fans have been asking if Minho and Taemin got into a fight,” their manager says, sliding some papers down the table to the members. They’re printouts of the online forums. “What happened between you two?”
“Oh, nothing,” Taemin reassures before Minho can speak, smiling. “It just hasn’t been happening lately, is all.”
“Then you better get back to it,” their manager grumbles. “They’re upset over it.”
Taemin can feel Minho’s stare against his skin, but he wills himself not to look over. He needs to stop this. Once he sorts of his feelings, the fan service can start again. How can he make others happy when he can’t even make himself happy first?
He clenches his fists underneath the table, suddenly very frustrated with himself.
one.
It’s evening when they finally finish their schedule. Taemin tells the others that he wants to practice some more of his dancing, so they leave first. The silence of the dance studio is blissful compared to Key’s voice, Jonghyun’s laughter, Onew’s gags. The silence makes him close his eyes and absorb it in, sinking into its calm depths and forgetting all about Minho’s constant-and almost oppressive-presence.
He can’t think when the older boy is around anymore. The only thought that clouds his mind is that he needs to get out of there, and fast-there’s no longer any reason behind it; it’s just pure instinct. Taemin feels like if he lets himself enjoy the small amounts of skinship between him and Minho, he’s jeopardizing the entire group.
When his mind finally clears, he plays the music, and dances. Dances to his heart’s content, dances the way he does when the stress becomes too much, when life becomes too much. He watches his movement and angles in the mirror, criticizing himself when he’s short of perfection, when he forgets a part. Because dancing is the only thing in his life that he can control. It’s the only thing that he can decide for himself.
When he finally stops, he’s tired and sweaty. Some of his hair that he had tied up has fallen out and is stuck to his face uncomfortably.
He’s exhausted.
Taemin makes his way over to his duffel bag, grabs his towel, and wipes his face. He’ll go home, shower, and go straight to bed. Hopefully, the others won’t bother him tonight. He doesn’t want to be bothered tonight.
But just as if the world wants to spite him, he sees Minho sitting on the steps outside of the studio, waiting for him.
“Hyung!” he says in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Minho looks up at him, blinking blearily. It looks as if he’s fallen asleep, sitting there. Has he been waiting for him this entire time? The others have left over an hour ago.
“I wanted to talk to you,” the older boy says, standing up rolling his shoulders. “I couldn’t think of any other way to approach you, because it seems like you’ve been avoiding me lately.” Taemin looks at him-his tired posture, his ruffled hair, and his dark, dark eyes. He’s never been able to read him. He hates that.
“Oh,” he responds lamely, suddenly nervous. His hands clam up, and he plays with his fingers. “What is it?”
“What happened, Taemin-ah?” The way Minho says his name makes him shiver. He says it softly-like it’s something precious. “Was it something I did?”
“I-no, it’s nothing. Really, don’t worry about it.”
“You’re lying.” When the older boy says that with no hesitation, Taemin flinches. Why is that Minho can read him so easily, and yet, Taemin can’t even guess what’s on his mind? It’s not fair. Not fair at all. “If I did something wrong, just tell me.”
“I just”-he swallows when he realizes how intense Minho’s gaze is. “I like you, Hyung! Okay? I just-I can’t do this stupid fan service when I’m busy trying to get over you!”
There’s a moment of silence, and a wave of terror washes over Taemin. His blood runs cold, and he stares at Minho with wide eyes, wondering what he could do to cover it up. It’s not that it slipped out by accident-but Minho is showing absolutely no reaction whatsoever, and Taemin figures that he’s probably thinking about how to let him down gently. Shit. Shit.
He should’ve just kept quiet. He should’ve made up an excuse.
But he could never lie to Minho.
(But it’s just, Taemin thought he had an actual chance. Minho’s eyes have always been a little softer when looking at him, his voice a little more loving.)
But suddenly, the older boy laughs. It’s a small laugh, and so, so inappropriate, considering Taemin’s quickly breaking heart-but through his smile, Minho says, “Why would you want to get over me?”
“W-What?” he sputters. “Because it’s bad! Because I’m getting too personal!”
Minho tilts his head to the side a little. Taemin thinks he’s purposely trying to be cute. “Wouldn’t that be the point, Taemin-ah?” he asks softly, stepping closer to him. Taemin freezes up, unsure of what he’s doing or what’s happening. This is exactly what he’s been avoiding-his mind going blank, his heart jumping to his throat, his wishing that he’d be just a little closer so he could feel him breathing next to him-
“Hyung?” he asks cautiously when he feels Minho’s fingers against his cheek. “What are you doing?”
“I thought you knew already, but I guess you didn’t.” The older boy smiles wryly. “I like you too, Taemin-ah. So…stop trying to get over me. I wouldn’t appreciate it.”
“Ah…” He nods faintly, not actually registering a word Minho said, because he’s way too close to even process what’s happening, let alone be happy about it. Minho’s thumb brushes across his skin, and Taemin swallows subconsciously. This is going to be his first kiss, he realizes faintly. His first kiss is going to be with a boy. His first kiss is going to be with Minho.
His first kiss is going to be perfect.
Their lips touch lightly, with the endearing bashfulness that Taemin’s grown to love about Minho. He can only stand still as the older boy pulls away a little, as if to judge his reaction. A moment passes, and he kisses him again-longer, but just as tender and much more loving. Taemin’s eyes close, and he sighs against Minho’s mouth, finally feeling things fall into place.
“Let’s continue with the fan service?”
“That sounds like a very good idea, Hyung.”
zero.
“What,” their manager says, tossing a crème colored folder onto the table, “is this?”
Jonghyun is the closest one to the folder, so he reaches for it and looks at it first. “Whoa!” He shows Key immediately, who bursts into laughter. Onew tries to keep himself together when he sees it, and once it’s passed to Minho, all he does it smile a little smugly.
The folder reaches Taemin last, but when he sees its implications, he blanches a little. It’s an edited picture (from the forums, no doubt) of him and Minho, and-
“They’re just mosquito bites!” he exclaims, trying to cover it up. “It’s nothing, I swear! It’s summer and we’re bound to have some mosquito bites!” Minho joins everyone else’s laughter-out of embarrassment and not knowing what else to do, probably-and Taemin is the only one left who’s not clutching his stomach, attempting to calm himself. He’s seriously at a loss. It’s okay if the rest of the guys know about him and Minho, but now, their fans know. The internet knows. The entire world knows. He could just die of embarrassment.
(But that doesn’t mean he wants to forget how he got that mark on his neck-because Minho’s lips against his skin, his gentle nipping is something he definitely doesn’t want to forget. Ever. Nor does he want to forget the way Minho tastes, the way he sighs Taemin’s name breathily and smoothes his hair down with surprisingly gentleness when he pauses in his actions, embarrassed and not knowing what to do.)
So all he does is just sit there helplessly, as the rest of them laugh.