Author's note: Sorry for the delay. This is going to be a nice little bit of fluff. Let me know what you think. Fine me on Tumblr at booksrockmyface.

Happy reading!

Chapter Two

Minho was determined to be a professional. But the moment he saw Thomas warming up, it became a struggle. He'd definitely had crushes before, but this one was more already. He knew if he didn't figure out a way to contain himself, his only client could become his last.

He sat down at his computer and checked his e-mail. No new requests for a coach. He was tempted to offer his services at an even lower rate, but he was already undercutting a lot of the locals.

He sighed and went about getting some supper made. There wasn't much. He probably should have waited until his coaching took off before he quit his full-time job. Maybe they would take him back at the gym part-time.

He ate his supper and then went straight to bed. But he had trouble sleeping because he couldn't get that goofy, adorable look of Thomas's out of his mind.

"So, we're just going to jog today and see how far we get before you feel like you're going to die." Minho said as they finished their stretches. "And try to relax your face, dude." He said with a chuckle.

Thomas's ears went slightly pink. "I'll do my best."

"Maybe it will help to think about something neutral. Like your family."

"Not a whole lot neutral with my family." He said dismissively.

"Yeah, same. My mom wanted me to be a doctor. But when I told her I wanted to be a running coach, she flipped a lid. Haven't really had a meaningful conversation with her in a while."

Thomas nodded. "Don't have a mom or dad anymore. Barely had a sister until recently. Closest thing I have to a real family for a while is Newt."

Minho nodded down the path and started jogging. Thomas followed. He kept pace with Minho pretty well.

"My dad died when I was young." The coach said.

Thomas panted. "My dad ran off and then mom died. My sister was a drug dealer."

Minho gave him a sympathetic look. "Sorry to hear."

Thomas nodded.

"Need a break?"

Thomas nodded again.

Minho slowed down and walked toward a water fountain. They took turns taking drinks. Thomas splashed his face with water.

"Are we going to do anymore running?" Thomas asked.

Minho looked him over. "Do you feel like you're dying?"

"Not yet. So maybe we should quit while we're ahead."

"Not a chance." Minho took off again.

Thomas cursed under his breath and followed. Why was he doing this? They had to have been at it for nearly two hours. He stopped and braced his hands on his knees.

Minho jogged a few more feet before he realized Thomas wasn't beside him. He walked back and placed a hand on Thomas's back. "You okay?"

It took Thomas a moment to focus on the words and not the hand resting between his shoulder blades. He stood and nodded. "Yeah."

Minho's hand slid down Thomas's back and then dropped. "Okay, I guess that's all for now." He looked at his watch. "We got in just over five miles in one hour and thirty-seven minutes."

"Is that good?" Thomas asked.

"Very good." Minho made a note in a small notebook he held in his pocket. We'll rest for tomorrow. Where do you do your grocery shopping?"

"There's a little market down the block from my apartment. Why?"

"Text me the name. We'll meet there and I'll help you pick out the ingredients for a couple recipes that will be good for your diet to help maintain proper weight and get you through the race."

Thomas nodded. "Okay. I'll get the name on my why home and text you." Their eyes locked for a moment. Thomas was the first to look away. "I need to get home."

"To your girlfriend?" Minho asked, there was a tinge of worry in his voice.

"My twin sister. I'm perpetually single." Thomas explained.

"Oh, me too." Minho said, almost too enthusiastically.

"Not much time for dating in my line of work." He fished his key out of his pocket and unlocked his car door.

Minho nodded. "Same." He pushed his sweaty hair out of his face. "Text me and I'll see you tomorrow." He walked away to his own car. He watched Thomas drive away, half tempted to follow him, and then headed home.

Minho's phone went off as he got out of the shower. Thomas had sent him the name and directions to the grocery store near his house. He responded, "Okay. See you there tomorrow at 6."

"Can we do it later? I have a meeting." Thomas responded.

"Sure. How much later?"

"Just a half hour. Is that cool?"

"Works for me. I have no other plans." After he hit send, Minho wondered if it mattered to Thomas if he had other plans or not.

"Well, then I'll see you tomorrow."

Minho responded, "Tomorrow." And then he put his phone away. He stared at it sitting on the coffee table for a while before he decided to open the Facebook app. He typed in Thomas's name into the search bar and easily found the right one. He was happy to find his profile was public.

Minho had never been one for stalking on social media, but he couldn't help himself this time. Thomas was quiet. And kind of cute. And he had said just enough to be intriguing. Minho discovered he was a video game designer, single, and had a dog. One of those little yappy ones. Minho hated those kinds of dogs.

He rested his phone on his chest and imagined himself lying on the couch with Thomas on top of him and a giant dog stretched out on the floor beside them. Nice and homey.

"Stupid!" Minho scolded as he sat forward. Thomas was a client. A devastatingly handsome client, but a client nonetheless. He was not allowed to harbor fantasies about lying on the couch together cozily.

He sat the phone on the charger and went about his nightly routine. He tried desperately to ignore the fact that he was lonely. He didn't even have any friends here. Most of the people had moved away after college or moved on with their lives. They were married or had families. Or were just actual successes.

"What am I even doing with my life?" Minho asked aloud. "Is it even worth it?"

He opened his phone again when it went off with an email. Someone was requesting rates for beginner coaching.

Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all. Maybe it just took time. He wrote out a reply, feeling a little better about himself.

So what if he spent several more hours going through Thomas's Facebook photos instead of going to sleep at a dent hour.