Mr Tardy
Title : Mr Tardy
Author : Carrot
Rating : G
Pairings : 2min
Genre : Fluff, part crack, drabble.
Disclaimer : Boys =/= mine.
Summary: He isn't just late, he's Mr Tardy
It was a sunny spring morning and gosh, Minho wasn’t in a good mood. The cheap alarm clock he got from Minseuk as a joke woke him up 20 minutes later, making him miss his good 10 minute shower to be cut down into just 5 minutes. Instead of a warm, relaxing shower, his body was shivering by the time he got out from the bathroom, praying to god that this day wouldn’t get any worse.
His prayers were not answered though. After that terrible wake up call, his coffee spilled onto his new shirt, profanities spewing out of his lips as he quickly changed out and into a new one, hoping his boss would come in late so that his job wouldn’t be hanging on the line. With the wrong coloured sock on one foot, he sprinted out and into the streets before realizing he forgot his wallet and then sprinting another 6 floors because the apartment tenant was too cheap to install proper elevators and lived to torture Minho’s poor life.
His tummy was literally shouting at him, screaming “Food! Food! Give me food you bastard!” as he huffed towards the bus stop before he squatted onto the ground in defeat, realizing that the bus that just passed him was his usual bus and now he had to wait another 5 minutes for the next one.
What a wonderful morning, he muttered under his breath. Today was the first day of the new year and it was already this bad. Not to mention he’d been labelled as Mr Tardy pants after being late almost every day of the week at his workplace by his boss. Catching his breath, he sat on one of the seats provided, noticing that he wasn’t alone.
There was a boy sitting on the other side of the seat, his dark brown hair caught in the sunlight as it complimented on his small face structure, his lips latched onto a, he thinks, orange lollipop as the boy waited for his bus. To Minho, the boy was ‘drop-dead-knee-weakeningly’ gorgeous. His eyes landed onto Minho’s as he stared straight into him, catching the older in his day dream as he quickly looked at his more interestingly peeling cuticles.
The boy looked away when Minho looked back at him, noticing the apparent blush on his cheeks. He smiled to himself. Maybe today wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe his boss wouldn’t fire him, not for being slow at the cash register when filling in bags, but for being late. Maybe his shirt wouldn’t get another stain on it because gosh did coffee do major damage on shirts. And maybe, he’d make a new friend.
Or maybe he could just miss the next bus from staring at the boy again and then finally falling down on the floor in defeat as he realized, he’s more than late. He’s Mr Tardy.
Author note: I'm back?
Author : Carrot
Rating : G
Pairings : 2min
Genre : Fluff, part crack, drabble.
Disclaimer : Boys =/= mine.
Summary: He isn't just late, he's Mr Tardy
It was a sunny spring morning and gosh, Minho wasn’t in a good mood. The cheap alarm clock he got from Minseuk as a joke woke him up 20 minutes later, making him miss his good 10 minute shower to be cut down into just 5 minutes. Instead of a warm, relaxing shower, his body was shivering by the time he got out from the bathroom, praying to god that this day wouldn’t get any worse.
His prayers were not answered though. After that terrible wake up call, his coffee spilled onto his new shirt, profanities spewing out of his lips as he quickly changed out and into a new one, hoping his boss would come in late so that his job wouldn’t be hanging on the line. With the wrong coloured sock on one foot, he sprinted out and into the streets before realizing he forgot his wallet and then sprinting another 6 floors because the apartment tenant was too cheap to install proper elevators and lived to torture Minho’s poor life.
His tummy was literally shouting at him, screaming “Food! Food! Give me food you bastard!” as he huffed towards the bus stop before he squatted onto the ground in defeat, realizing that the bus that just passed him was his usual bus and now he had to wait another 5 minutes for the next one.
What a wonderful morning, he muttered under his breath. Today was the first day of the new year and it was already this bad. Not to mention he’d been labelled as Mr Tardy pants after being late almost every day of the week at his workplace by his boss. Catching his breath, he sat on one of the seats provided, noticing that he wasn’t alone.
There was a boy sitting on the other side of the seat, his dark brown hair caught in the sunlight as it complimented on his small face structure, his lips latched onto a, he thinks, orange lollipop as the boy waited for his bus. To Minho, the boy was ‘drop-dead-knee-weakeningly’ gorgeous. His eyes landed onto Minho’s as he stared straight into him, catching the older in his day dream as he quickly looked at his more interestingly peeling cuticles.
The boy looked away when Minho looked back at him, noticing the apparent blush on his cheeks. He smiled to himself. Maybe today wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe his boss wouldn’t fire him, not for being slow at the cash register when filling in bags, but for being late. Maybe his shirt wouldn’t get another stain on it because gosh did coffee do major damage on shirts. And maybe, he’d make a new friend.
Or maybe he could just miss the next bus from staring at the boy again and then finally falling down on the floor in defeat as he realized, he’s more than late. He’s Mr Tardy.
Author note: I'm back?