The Finer Points of Studying 2/3
Title: The Finer Points of Studying 2/3
Genre: fluff, romance
Rating: PG-13-ish eventually
Pairings: 2min, JongKey
Word Count: 2428
Summary: Taemin undergoes examination preparation with Minho.
Part One
Part Three
The next morning, much to Minho's pleasure, it was raining. “No picnic today,” he told Taemin. It was a good thing anyway; he hadn't thought about food at all, and the prospect of spending even more money at the ridiculously overpriced corner store made him a bit queasy.
Taemin was sulking. “Then what are we supposed to do? I'm not going to sit here with those two--” he jerked his head toward Kibum and Jonghyun, who were wrestling over the TV remote on the sofa. “--all day long, and they're not going anywhere.”
Minho watched in fascination as the sofa wobbled then slowly, slowly fell over backward, bringing the two boys tumbling down with it. After the shocked curses died down, he nodded. “Uh, yeah, that won't work. Jinki, where should we go?”
“A coffeeshop,” the older boy said without a moment of hesitation, eyes still glued on Jonghyun and Kibum, who had continued their wrestling match on the tipped sofa. “There's internet there and things to eat and it's quiet, not to mention dry.”
“That's actually very sensible,” Minho said wonderingly after a moment of contemplation. “I didn't actually expect you to have a good idea.”
“It was either that or an umbrella picnic.”
“Yah, an umbrella picnic! Let's do that!” Taemin latched onto the idea, trying to find any way to get his picnic.
Minho thumped Jinki on top of the head, casting a horrified look at Taemin. “I spoke too soon. We are absolutely not going to study outside today. Never! Not even if the sun comes out.”
Taemin pouted, blowing his breath out and looking remarkably similar to a guppy. “Fine, but you're treating me to a banana milk then because you promised me we'd go on a picnic today.”
They left a half hour later. Minho would have preferred earlier--he really wanted to beat the midday rush that he knew most coffeeshops had when it neared lunchtime--but Taemin had insisted that he needed different clothes and took off to shower and change.
When he emerged from the bathroom, hair darkened from water, dressed in slim dark pants and a loose shirt that displayed his collarbones prominently, Minho really wished he hadn't changed at all. He was fresh, rumpled and smelled delectable, looking for all the world like he needed to be ravished.
“Let's go,” he said, the words coming out a bit more brusquely than he'd intended.
Taemin scooped up his schoolbag, hoisting it over one shoulder. He'd apparently not noticed Minho's change in attitude, and for that the older boy was thankful.
As they were opening to doors to the car Jinki burst out of the house, barreling toward them at the speed of a raging bull. “Directions,” he said breathlessly, handing a scrap of paper to Taemin. “It's a good place. One of my favorites.”
“Ah, thanks.” Minho realized he hadn't even thought about where he was about to drive to, a tribute to the effect Taemin had on him.
“You read them for him,” Jinki was continuing, looking at Taemin seriously. “He shouldn't be distracted when he drives.”
Minho scoffed--he already was going to be distracted enough, what was a little more?--but Taemin was nodding in agreement. “Ok, hyung. Thanks!”
Kibum smiled widely, pleased to have been useful. “Study hard, Taemin-ah!”
Minho shut his door, shifting himself into a comfortable position, then started the car. “Where are we going?”
Taemin squinted down at the directions. “Erm...I really don't know. Can you read this?”
When he leaned over Minho realized that he'd made a mistake. Taemin had just showered, meaning his smell was particularly potent and fresh, and while he was now able to see the paper more clearly he also found his nose almost pressed to the curve of the other boy's neck.
Focus. Concentrate. The paper, not Taemin.
“He has terrible handwriting,” Minho grumbled, taking the paper from Taemin to squint at it closer and thus removing himself from the situation. “What does this even say? Go left?”
The younger boy leaned over, subjecting Minho to a clear view of his neck and collarbones once again. “I think so. Maybe.” He shrugged, settling back. “Let's just drive and see where it takes us, hey?”
They drove, laughing together as they attempted to decipher Jinki's convoluted directions (“what does 'turn right at the tall place' mean anyway!?”) and letting the roads take them where they would. The streets were gray and wet, but the atmosphere in the car was bright and cheerful, beating back the gloom enough to give them a bubble of sunny summer feelings in the middle of the rain.
“We probably should find a place to sit for a while,” Minho finally announced, not unremorsefully, an hour later as they aimlessly drove through a meandering set of streets. “You really should be studying.”
“I can study in the car,” Taemin said, not particularly wanting to stop driving either, “as long as we get banana milk.”
It was tempting, truly, but on top of feeling like he really should get his dongsaeng into an environment that was conducive to studying Minho was also getting a foot cramp and could feel the money flying out of his pocket from the amount of gasoline he was using. “My foot hurts,” he told Taemin as a sort of excuse, taking a leaf out of the younger's book and putting a bit of petulance into his voice. “I want to sit down.”
“You are sitting down,” Taemin pointed out, but didn't complain when Minho spotted a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and pulled in.
“Mm, it smells good in here.” Taemin was looking around almost hungrily, drinking in the rich colors and scents of the small cafe. “And the chairs are nice too. Oh, let's get a booth!”
“You find one. I'm going to buy a coffee and see if they have banana milk.” Minho went to go stand in line (they'd missed the lunchtime rush because they'd spent so long in the car, but there were still the remnants of the crowd left). He needed some coffee desperately to clear Taemin's scent out of his nose. The entire time he'd been in the car he'd been breathing it, mind drifting between that and the long, long legs in the seat next to him, and while he was sure the image was in his brain to stay, he could at least rid himself of the pleasantly musky scent that was still wrapped around him.
“What can I get for you?” The girl at the cash register was quietly attractive, and it briefly crossed Minho's mind that if he flirted he could probably get her number.
“Something strong and caffeinated, and a banana milk if you have that. Uh, do you have any chocolates, too?” He didn't want to flirt with her though. She just wasn't...didn't...he sighed, shoving the images of Taemin out of his brain. He just wasn't going to.
She rattled off a few different options for coffees and Minho picked one that sounded exotic, hoping it would taste decent at least. “We do have banana milk, but not chocolates,” she added apologetically.
Taemin wouldn't be happy. “None at all?”
“Only chocolate covered strawberries. You buy them by the dozen, though.” She gestured to the glass-covered case, prominently displaying baked goods and a line-up of mouthwatering strawberries. They were coincidentally the most expensive thing for sale. Apparently he just couldn't get away from the convenience store prices even when he went to a coffeeshop.
He knew he shouldn't spend more of his pocket money on unnecessary purchases like this, but Taemin would need something to make him study.
“I'll take them.” They'd probably taste delicious anyway, Minho told himself, trying to justify the expensive purchase in his mind.
Minho realized it was completely worth it when he sat down across from Taemin and set the strawberries down next to his schoolbooks on the worn oak-topped table. The younger boy's jaw dropped, his eyes widening comically. “Are those...those...those are...”
“Chocolate covered strawberries,” Minho said dryly, feeling very pleased with himself for having made Taemin stutter. He'd have paid twice the price for them had he known this was the reaction they'd produce.
“Mm,” the younger boy sighed, eyes glazing over in pure, unadulterated bliss. “You're amazing.”
Minho swallowed, feeling a bit relieved that Taemin wasn't looking him in the eyes when he'd said that. “What, me or the strawberries?”
“Both!” He bit his lip, sighing once more, then opened his textbook. Today it was math. “Can I have one before I start? Pleeeease?”
He was biting his lip and blinking and half-smiling, all the while gazing intently at Minho. No, he needs to study. He does not need a strawberry.
Why was Taemin bumping his foot against his beneath the table? “Fine!” Minho burst out, caving under the pressure of the nudges and the puppy eyes. “Eat a strawberry!”
Taemin smiled, opening the plastic casing and selecting a large strawberry. As he bit in his eyes closed, the small purr of pleasure sending jolts of electricity straight into the pit of Minho's stomach. This was such a terrible idea.
“These are really good,” Taemin told him once he finished, voice back to normal. Minho breathed a sigh of relief. It was over…and there were still eleven left. Great.
By the time they left Minho could feel the knots of tension in his shoulders as clear as day. The few hours had been torturous, not because of Taemin's complaints (the strawberries had kept him quite happy, actually), but because he savored each one with such rapture that Minho wanted to shoot himself just to put himself out of his misery. He was the ill-tempered one now.
“That was nice,” Taemin was saying brightly as Minho signed off of his laptop and shut it. “Even though it was studying.”
“I hate math,” Minho retorted, taking out his mood on the subject choice. He'd spent the day not only watching Taemin eating strawberries but forcing himself to recall all of the formulas and their applications that he'd barely learned in school, which had resulted in a mood of mixed frustration and exasperation. The subject was not one he'd enjoyed, and having to relive it today had just reiterated why that was.
“Whatever. You're not the one that's studying for exams, so don't complain.”
“I still hate it, though. I never have liked it, never will, and never want too.” His bitterness was spilling over, perhaps a results from the four cups coffee he'd consumed that afternoon.
Taemin leaned over and patted Minho on the head a few times, not unkindly. “How about we just go home?”
Minho blinked at the unexpected gesture, then nodded. “Mm, let's.”
He was still tense when they got back home, but was in a considerably better mood. Taemin had teased, coaxed, and cajoled him into laughing the irritation out of his system, and although at first Minho had been mildly annoyed at the incessant cheeriness he'd eventually succumbed to it. It was impossible for him to resist Taemin for long.
“That was not good,” Minho announced when he walked in the door.
“Actually, it was,” Taemin countered.
“Huh,” Jinki said eventually when neither Kibum nor Jonghyun looked like they were going to respond. “It was bad and it was good. That's enlightening.”
Minho didn't even make it to the sofa, instead sinking to the carpet halfway between that and the doorway. “I hate math and my back hurts and I had to try remember formulas all day,” he elaborated. “It was terrible.”
Jinki glanced at Taemin, waiting for his side. “I had chocolate covered strawberries and banana milk,” he said, still pleased with how everything had gone. “He's definitely exaggerating how terrible math is, and my back doesn't hurt so I don't know why his should. Are you sure you're not exaggerating that too, Minho?”
Minho grunted a negative, wondering when the carpet had last been vacuumed. It was smelling rather musty.
“You both are hopeless, but that's nothing new,” Jonghyun, said, snickering as he stood up from where he'd been sprawled on the floor watching some movie or another on a laptop. “Would you like me to walk on your back, Minho-ah?”
Minho bit back the urge to tell Jonghyun no simply because of the condescending tone he was using to address him, choosing instead of nod. “Please.”
Jonghyun grinned and stepped onto Minho's back, digging his heels into the knots along his spine. He enjoyed this task far too much; Minho suspected it had something to do with the fact that he was the shortest of the five, and any chance to lord himself over the taller boy was considered a golden opportunity.
It felt good though, so he didn't mention anything.
Jinki and Taemin wandered out after a bit to go see what Kibum was up to, leaving Jonghyun and Minho in the middle of the living room alone.
“Higher,” Minho said, then breathed out a sigh of pleasure as one of the massive knots suddenly released.
“Why were you so tense anyway?” Jonghyun hovered still for a moment, trying to catch his balance with the sudden movement of Minho's chest. “It was only a few hours of sitting.”
Minho debated telling him everything for a split second--about the awful strawberry eating, the several instances of footsie under the table, heck, even about the cashier that simply didn't measure of to Taemin in the slightest.
“Just feeling frustrated,” he finally said, settling on a piece of the truth.
Jonghyun took another step, finding another knot. “You're really that bad at math?”
There was a moment where they both were silent, both feeling the muscle in Minho's back spasm and release. “Not particularly.” Jonghyun could take that as he wanted.
To his surprise the older boy didn't ask any more questions, just made a small noise of understanding. “Oh, okay.” That was all that was said on the subject. When Minho's back was sufficiently knot-free they both stood up and went to go eat dinner.
Genre: fluff, romance
Rating: PG-13-ish eventually
Pairings: 2min, JongKey
Word Count: 2428
Summary: Taemin undergoes examination preparation with Minho.
Part One
Part Three
The next morning, much to Minho's pleasure, it was raining. “No picnic today,” he told Taemin. It was a good thing anyway; he hadn't thought about food at all, and the prospect of spending even more money at the ridiculously overpriced corner store made him a bit queasy.
Taemin was sulking. “Then what are we supposed to do? I'm not going to sit here with those two--” he jerked his head toward Kibum and Jonghyun, who were wrestling over the TV remote on the sofa. “--all day long, and they're not going anywhere.”
Minho watched in fascination as the sofa wobbled then slowly, slowly fell over backward, bringing the two boys tumbling down with it. After the shocked curses died down, he nodded. “Uh, yeah, that won't work. Jinki, where should we go?”
“A coffeeshop,” the older boy said without a moment of hesitation, eyes still glued on Jonghyun and Kibum, who had continued their wrestling match on the tipped sofa. “There's internet there and things to eat and it's quiet, not to mention dry.”
“That's actually very sensible,” Minho said wonderingly after a moment of contemplation. “I didn't actually expect you to have a good idea.”
“It was either that or an umbrella picnic.”
“Yah, an umbrella picnic! Let's do that!” Taemin latched onto the idea, trying to find any way to get his picnic.
Minho thumped Jinki on top of the head, casting a horrified look at Taemin. “I spoke too soon. We are absolutely not going to study outside today. Never! Not even if the sun comes out.”
Taemin pouted, blowing his breath out and looking remarkably similar to a guppy. “Fine, but you're treating me to a banana milk then because you promised me we'd go on a picnic today.”
They left a half hour later. Minho would have preferred earlier--he really wanted to beat the midday rush that he knew most coffeeshops had when it neared lunchtime--but Taemin had insisted that he needed different clothes and took off to shower and change.
When he emerged from the bathroom, hair darkened from water, dressed in slim dark pants and a loose shirt that displayed his collarbones prominently, Minho really wished he hadn't changed at all. He was fresh, rumpled and smelled delectable, looking for all the world like he needed to be ravished.
“Let's go,” he said, the words coming out a bit more brusquely than he'd intended.
Taemin scooped up his schoolbag, hoisting it over one shoulder. He'd apparently not noticed Minho's change in attitude, and for that the older boy was thankful.
As they were opening to doors to the car Jinki burst out of the house, barreling toward them at the speed of a raging bull. “Directions,” he said breathlessly, handing a scrap of paper to Taemin. “It's a good place. One of my favorites.”
“Ah, thanks.” Minho realized he hadn't even thought about where he was about to drive to, a tribute to the effect Taemin had on him.
“You read them for him,” Jinki was continuing, looking at Taemin seriously. “He shouldn't be distracted when he drives.”
Minho scoffed--he already was going to be distracted enough, what was a little more?--but Taemin was nodding in agreement. “Ok, hyung. Thanks!”
Kibum smiled widely, pleased to have been useful. “Study hard, Taemin-ah!”
Minho shut his door, shifting himself into a comfortable position, then started the car. “Where are we going?”
Taemin squinted down at the directions. “Erm...I really don't know. Can you read this?”
When he leaned over Minho realized that he'd made a mistake. Taemin had just showered, meaning his smell was particularly potent and fresh, and while he was now able to see the paper more clearly he also found his nose almost pressed to the curve of the other boy's neck.
Focus. Concentrate. The paper, not Taemin.
“He has terrible handwriting,” Minho grumbled, taking the paper from Taemin to squint at it closer and thus removing himself from the situation. “What does this even say? Go left?”
The younger boy leaned over, subjecting Minho to a clear view of his neck and collarbones once again. “I think so. Maybe.” He shrugged, settling back. “Let's just drive and see where it takes us, hey?”
They drove, laughing together as they attempted to decipher Jinki's convoluted directions (“what does 'turn right at the tall place' mean anyway!?”) and letting the roads take them where they would. The streets were gray and wet, but the atmosphere in the car was bright and cheerful, beating back the gloom enough to give them a bubble of sunny summer feelings in the middle of the rain.
“We probably should find a place to sit for a while,” Minho finally announced, not unremorsefully, an hour later as they aimlessly drove through a meandering set of streets. “You really should be studying.”
“I can study in the car,” Taemin said, not particularly wanting to stop driving either, “as long as we get banana milk.”
It was tempting, truly, but on top of feeling like he really should get his dongsaeng into an environment that was conducive to studying Minho was also getting a foot cramp and could feel the money flying out of his pocket from the amount of gasoline he was using. “My foot hurts,” he told Taemin as a sort of excuse, taking a leaf out of the younger's book and putting a bit of petulance into his voice. “I want to sit down.”
“You are sitting down,” Taemin pointed out, but didn't complain when Minho spotted a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and pulled in.
“Mm, it smells good in here.” Taemin was looking around almost hungrily, drinking in the rich colors and scents of the small cafe. “And the chairs are nice too. Oh, let's get a booth!”
“You find one. I'm going to buy a coffee and see if they have banana milk.” Minho went to go stand in line (they'd missed the lunchtime rush because they'd spent so long in the car, but there were still the remnants of the crowd left). He needed some coffee desperately to clear Taemin's scent out of his nose. The entire time he'd been in the car he'd been breathing it, mind drifting between that and the long, long legs in the seat next to him, and while he was sure the image was in his brain to stay, he could at least rid himself of the pleasantly musky scent that was still wrapped around him.
“What can I get for you?” The girl at the cash register was quietly attractive, and it briefly crossed Minho's mind that if he flirted he could probably get her number.
“Something strong and caffeinated, and a banana milk if you have that. Uh, do you have any chocolates, too?” He didn't want to flirt with her though. She just wasn't...didn't...he sighed, shoving the images of Taemin out of his brain. He just wasn't going to.
She rattled off a few different options for coffees and Minho picked one that sounded exotic, hoping it would taste decent at least. “We do have banana milk, but not chocolates,” she added apologetically.
Taemin wouldn't be happy. “None at all?”
“Only chocolate covered strawberries. You buy them by the dozen, though.” She gestured to the glass-covered case, prominently displaying baked goods and a line-up of mouthwatering strawberries. They were coincidentally the most expensive thing for sale. Apparently he just couldn't get away from the convenience store prices even when he went to a coffeeshop.
He knew he shouldn't spend more of his pocket money on unnecessary purchases like this, but Taemin would need something to make him study.
“I'll take them.” They'd probably taste delicious anyway, Minho told himself, trying to justify the expensive purchase in his mind.
Minho realized it was completely worth it when he sat down across from Taemin and set the strawberries down next to his schoolbooks on the worn oak-topped table. The younger boy's jaw dropped, his eyes widening comically. “Are those...those...those are...”
“Chocolate covered strawberries,” Minho said dryly, feeling very pleased with himself for having made Taemin stutter. He'd have paid twice the price for them had he known this was the reaction they'd produce.
“Mm,” the younger boy sighed, eyes glazing over in pure, unadulterated bliss. “You're amazing.”
Minho swallowed, feeling a bit relieved that Taemin wasn't looking him in the eyes when he'd said that. “What, me or the strawberries?”
“Both!” He bit his lip, sighing once more, then opened his textbook. Today it was math. “Can I have one before I start? Pleeeease?”
He was biting his lip and blinking and half-smiling, all the while gazing intently at Minho. No, he needs to study. He does not need a strawberry.
Why was Taemin bumping his foot against his beneath the table? “Fine!” Minho burst out, caving under the pressure of the nudges and the puppy eyes. “Eat a strawberry!”
Taemin smiled, opening the plastic casing and selecting a large strawberry. As he bit in his eyes closed, the small purr of pleasure sending jolts of electricity straight into the pit of Minho's stomach. This was such a terrible idea.
“These are really good,” Taemin told him once he finished, voice back to normal. Minho breathed a sigh of relief. It was over…and there were still eleven left. Great.
By the time they left Minho could feel the knots of tension in his shoulders as clear as day. The few hours had been torturous, not because of Taemin's complaints (the strawberries had kept him quite happy, actually), but because he savored each one with such rapture that Minho wanted to shoot himself just to put himself out of his misery. He was the ill-tempered one now.
“That was nice,” Taemin was saying brightly as Minho signed off of his laptop and shut it. “Even though it was studying.”
“I hate math,” Minho retorted, taking out his mood on the subject choice. He'd spent the day not only watching Taemin eating strawberries but forcing himself to recall all of the formulas and their applications that he'd barely learned in school, which had resulted in a mood of mixed frustration and exasperation. The subject was not one he'd enjoyed, and having to relive it today had just reiterated why that was.
“Whatever. You're not the one that's studying for exams, so don't complain.”
“I still hate it, though. I never have liked it, never will, and never want too.” His bitterness was spilling over, perhaps a results from the four cups coffee he'd consumed that afternoon.
Taemin leaned over and patted Minho on the head a few times, not unkindly. “How about we just go home?”
Minho blinked at the unexpected gesture, then nodded. “Mm, let's.”
He was still tense when they got back home, but was in a considerably better mood. Taemin had teased, coaxed, and cajoled him into laughing the irritation out of his system, and although at first Minho had been mildly annoyed at the incessant cheeriness he'd eventually succumbed to it. It was impossible for him to resist Taemin for long.
“That was not good,” Minho announced when he walked in the door.
“Actually, it was,” Taemin countered.
“Huh,” Jinki said eventually when neither Kibum nor Jonghyun looked like they were going to respond. “It was bad and it was good. That's enlightening.”
Minho didn't even make it to the sofa, instead sinking to the carpet halfway between that and the doorway. “I hate math and my back hurts and I had to try remember formulas all day,” he elaborated. “It was terrible.”
Jinki glanced at Taemin, waiting for his side. “I had chocolate covered strawberries and banana milk,” he said, still pleased with how everything had gone. “He's definitely exaggerating how terrible math is, and my back doesn't hurt so I don't know why his should. Are you sure you're not exaggerating that too, Minho?”
Minho grunted a negative, wondering when the carpet had last been vacuumed. It was smelling rather musty.
“You both are hopeless, but that's nothing new,” Jonghyun, said, snickering as he stood up from where he'd been sprawled on the floor watching some movie or another on a laptop. “Would you like me to walk on your back, Minho-ah?”
Minho bit back the urge to tell Jonghyun no simply because of the condescending tone he was using to address him, choosing instead of nod. “Please.”
Jonghyun grinned and stepped onto Minho's back, digging his heels into the knots along his spine. He enjoyed this task far too much; Minho suspected it had something to do with the fact that he was the shortest of the five, and any chance to lord himself over the taller boy was considered a golden opportunity.
It felt good though, so he didn't mention anything.
Jinki and Taemin wandered out after a bit to go see what Kibum was up to, leaving Jonghyun and Minho in the middle of the living room alone.
“Higher,” Minho said, then breathed out a sigh of pleasure as one of the massive knots suddenly released.
“Why were you so tense anyway?” Jonghyun hovered still for a moment, trying to catch his balance with the sudden movement of Minho's chest. “It was only a few hours of sitting.”
Minho debated telling him everything for a split second--about the awful strawberry eating, the several instances of footsie under the table, heck, even about the cashier that simply didn't measure of to Taemin in the slightest.
“Just feeling frustrated,” he finally said, settling on a piece of the truth.
Jonghyun took another step, finding another knot. “You're really that bad at math?”
There was a moment where they both were silent, both feeling the muscle in Minho's back spasm and release. “Not particularly.” Jonghyun could take that as he wanted.
To his surprise the older boy didn't ask any more questions, just made a small noise of understanding. “Oh, okay.” That was all that was said on the subject. When Minho's back was sufficiently knot-free they both stood up and went to go eat dinner.