Chapter Text
Taemin and Jongin sat on the floor of Jongin's empty room. Taemin pulled his knees in close to his chest. It was too quiet. They hadn't said a word to each other for the last five minutes and Taemin couldn't stand it. His best friend was moving. Not even across the city, or country, but across the world. Jongin was moving to America and he was leaving Taemin behind.
He fiddled with his necklace. Why did this have to happen now? Taemin was debuting in less than a month and Jongin wasn't even going to be there! It wasn't fair. It wasn't Jongin's fault, and Taemin didn't blame him, but it still sucked.
Taemin remembered that awful day two months ago, when he'd opened his door to a sobbing Jongin.
"What happened?" Taemin asked as Jongin latched onto him, dread settling in his stomach. He'd never seen Jongin like this before. Crying, sure, from exhaustion or stress or pain, but not this .
Jongin took a few short breaths and swallowed. He said something into Taemin's collarbone that Taemin didn't quite catch. "What did you say?"
Taemin didn't realize how physical words could feel until Jongin sobbed out, "I'm moving." And Taemin felt them like a solid punch to his stomach. But Jongin wasn't finished. "I'm moving to America." Taemin stopped breathing. He felt like he was going to pass out and he hugged Jongin harder. They both swayed on the spot.
"When?" Taemin had asked, finally drawing breath, desperately trying to stay strong, to not cry.
Jongin sucked snot back into his nose. "T-two months."
It was no good. Taemin's knees gave out and they both collapsed to the ground.
His eyes were wet, Taemin knew it, but he made no move to wipe at them. At some point, Jongin had linked their pinky fingers together, bridging the small gap between them. It didn’t feel like enough, Taemin wanted nothing more than to pull Jongin to him and hold him close, but he physically couldn’t move.
“We’ll still talk,” Jongin whispered, cutting through the silence. He swallowed audibly and took a deep breath, repeating the same words for the twentieth or maybe thousandth time today. “We’ll still talk. It’ll be okay. We—”
“Jonginnie! We have to get going soon to airport, love!” Jongin’s mom called from downstairs.
Nonononono this was still way too soon. Taemin looked at Jongin. His best friend’s eyes were screwed shut and his head was bowed. Taemin scooted closer, threading their fingers together. He wiped his eyes with his free hand and sniffled. He needed more time. He couldn’t let go of Jongin yet.
“I don’t want to go,” Jongin breathed. He squeezed Taemin’s hand so tightly it hurt, but Taemin appreciated the feeling because it meant Jongin was still here. “I… We…”
Taemin’s free hand clutched his necklace and it dug into his palm. Struck with an idea, he pulled it over his head and with one hand and clumsily put the chain around Jongin’s neck. Jongin clutched it immediately. “Taemin—”
There was a knock on the door and Taemin jumped. Jongin’s mom was smiling sympathetically from doorway. “Come on downstairs, boys.” She stayed in the doorway watching until they both stood up, stumbling a little with their hands still connected, then left to let them follow her down the stairs.
Taemin figured that walking down stairs shouldn’t feel like he was walking to his doom, but it did. Seeing the car outside shouldn’t feel like the end of the world, but it did. His best friend moving away shouldn’t feel like his soul was being ripped in two, but it did. They kept telling each other over and over that this was not an end, but it sure felt like one.
In sync, as they so often were, they came to a halt just inside the front door and turned towards each other. Taemin opened his mouth intending to say something, anything, but words couldn’t come and he closed it again. Jongin brought his free hand up to rest on the back of Taemin’s neck.
“I’ll message you when I land, okay?” Jongin blurted, sounding breathless.
Taemin nodded vigorously.
“And I’ll watch your debut stage. I don’t know how but I will. You’re going to be great, Taeminnie.” Jongin’s eyes darted around Taemin’s face and Taemin’s throat constricted. Jongin was trying to give Taemin comfort even though he wasn’t the one moving away. Jongin had always been like that, putting other people’s feelings above his own.
He wanted to tell Jongin thank you. Thank you for being the best person Taemin had ever met. Thank you for the late nights in the dance studio. Thank you for the never-ending teasing and laughter. Thank you for being his best cheerleader and critic. Thank you for being the best friend Taemin could ever hope to have. His other half.
Jongin promised they would talk everyday, and Taemin believed him, but it wouldn’t be the same. Talking over chat or phone or even crappy video-chat wasn’t the same as having Jongin here in front of him. He couldn't reach out and touch Jongin through chat. He couldn’t cuddle up next to him or hold his hand. Jongin would be basically on the other side of the planet.
“Taeminnie, please say something,” Jongin’s eyes were sad and pleading.
“I…” Taemin started, but his throat tightened again and he took a gulping breath. I’ll miss you , he wanted to say. I want you to stay. I want you here with me forever. I never want to go a day without you.
I love you.
Taemin looked down at Jongin’s lips and he found himself leaning forwards.
The act itself was so simple, just a small, soft press of lips with absolutely no forethought or planning to it. Jongin’s lips were chapped; Taemin knew that. Jongin had been biting and licking them more than usual recently. He smelled a little musty from sleeping under some blankets borrowed from their next door neighbor the night before, but he still smelled like Jongin. For a moment, the urgency left the air, and time stood still.
It wasn’t until Taemin’s eyes flicked up to see Jongin’s eyes blown wide that he fully realized what he had done. He jerked backwards, pulling himself out of Jongin’s touch in panic.
Jongin stood frozen with a shocked expression on his face.
“I—” Taemin’s voice caught in his throat and he swallowed. His heart hammered in his chest and he started to lose control of his breathing.
“Taemin, what…” Jongin’s eyebrows were raised and his mouth hung half open. Taemin tried to read him but he’d never seen that look on Jongin’s face before, and he took a few steps back.
Nonononono—
“Jongin!” Jongin’s mother called out, breaking the moment. Taemin’s back hit the door frame and Jongin turned to look at the car on the curb.
Without Jongin’s gaze on him, Taemin felt himself begin to float. Blood pounded in his ears and his vision blurred. He needed to get out of there.
Stumbling over his feet, Taemin turned and fled.
Jongin, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that I wasn't thinking!
Please can we still be friends?
It didn't mean anything. Please!
Jongin?
I'm so sorry
Please talk to me
I miss you
Taemin sat in the dark staring at his and Jongin's chat. The last message he sent was four days ago and Jongin hadn't even looked at it yet.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid
He pulled at his hair, pressure rising in his chest again. He felt like it was going to collapse in on itself. When Jongin had told him he was moving, Taemin thought it was the worst pain he could ever feel. But it didn't come close to this.
He hates me.
Setting his laptop aside, Taemin brought his knees to his chest and hugged them. Instinctively, he reached for his cross but it wasn’t there. He took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to stay in control.
The door to the room cracked open. Taemin hid his face in his knees.
"Taeminnie?" It was Jinki. Taemin didn't answer him.
Thankfully, Jinki didn't turn the light on when he stepped into this room, just closed the door behind him. Taemin didn't hear him approach the bed but a few moments later there was a hand resting gently on his back.
"Can you tell me what's wrong?" Jinki asked, softly. Minho had requested the same of him a few days ago but Taemin hadn't been able to say anything past Jongin's name.
Taemin took a breath to try to collect himself, but his voice still broke. "He h-hates me, hyung."
Jinki took a seat on the bed, hand still on Taemin's back. "I seriously doubt that."
"He does," Taemin insisted. "I messed up."
"How did you mess up?"
Taemin just shook his head. He couldn't say it. It was humiliating, and even though he trusted Jinki, this was too big.
"Jongin loves you, Taemin," Jinki said, causing Taemin's chest to tighten again. "Whatever you think you did, I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding. Moving is hard; he probably just needs some time."
Finally, Taemin let out a sob. A misunderstanding. What was there to even understand? Taemin kissed Jongin for no reason right before he left the country probably forever. Taemin didn’t even understand why he did it. Nothing made any sense so how on earth was time going to fix it?
He kissed Jongin. Kissed him. Like he’d seen so many couples do in dramas. But he and Jongin weren’t a couple; they were friends . So why had he done it?
A mistake.
Taemin felt Jinki sit on the bed beside him just before he pulled Taemin to him. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’ll see.”
Taemin hoped he was right. But he doubted it.
They did it. They debuted. SHINee debuted. They were a real idol group now.
Taemin had never felt a high quite like the one he was riding. They left the stage bouncing. Jinki hugged him. Minho picked him up and spun him around, laughing. Kibum held Jonghyun as he cried.
When they got back to the dorm late that night, Taemin pulled out this phone to call his mom.
“Hello? Taeminnie?”
Taemin fell back on his bed. He could faintly hear the other members talking to their families outside his room and he smiled widely. “We did it, mom! I did it! It was so scary and I thought I was going to explode before our stage started but once the music started playing it was so much better! The lights are so bright! I couldn’t see anyone except the cameras moving around and the other members but I remembered everything and we all remembered everything… we did it, mom!”
His mom laughed. “You did it! You were wonderful, Taemin. I’m so proud of you. All of you!”
“We did it,” Taemin said again, quieter this time. “We’re an idol group now. Mom, I’m an idol!”
“Yes you are. You’re going to be great, Taemin.”
“I did it.”
Taemin’s mom chuckled again. “Have you called anyone else yet? Have you talked to Jongin?”
Air rushed from Taemin’s lungs. He hadn’t told his mom what happened. Usually he could tell his mom anything. “No, I…” Taemin started, but his voice caught in this throat. He coughed. “I wanted to call you first. And it’s super late there. And I don’t know if he watched it.” Jongin said he would, but that was before Taemin… Anyways.
“Well, I appreciate being first on your list!” His mom said. “And I’m sure he’ll watch it. He’s a good friend. And even if he can’t, I’m sure he’ll want to know how it went!”
“Yeah…”
“Oh, you sound so tired. Adrenaline must be fading now, huh? Get some sleep tonight. Even idols need to sleep,” she teased.
“Yes, mom,” he smiled a little into the phone. “I love you.”
“I love you too, my Taeminnie. I’m so proud of you.”
“Goodnight, mom.”
“Sleep tight.”
The call ended and Taemin closed his eyes and did his best to put Jongin out of his mind. This was a happy day. Nothing should be able to spoil this moment. Taemin wasn’t going to let it. It helped that at that moment, the door to his room burst open and the other members raced through, piling on top of him one after the other. He laughed with what little breath we could find with the weight pressing down on him. I’m so happy, Taemin thought. And he really felt it.
"Taemin. TAEMIN!"
Taemin heard Jonghyun's shout but he didn't stop his frantic search of his room and suitcase. His phone had to be somewhere. It had to be.
This wasn't the first time he's lost his phone, but it was the first time he lost his phone since he got a new netbook. He had fully intended to copy Jongin's contact and IM information over to his netbook, that's why he put it on his phone in the first place, but then they went to Japan and had almost no time to themselves and Taemin had forgotten to do it. And now, Taemin couldn't find his phone.
Strong arms wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides, and he was lifted off his feet. "Put me down!"
Jonghyun walked him out into the common area where Minho was playing FIFA and dumped him on the couch. Taemin scrambled to get up and get back to his search but Minho caught the back of his shirt and pulled him back down. "What's going on?" Minho asked.
Taemin didn't try to get up this time, realizing that he was effectively boxed in by two muscley men. He pulled at his hair. "I can't find my phone."
"It's not exactly the first time," Minho chuckled.
Which was true. But it was different this time. Taemin groaned and pressed his palms into his eyes. "I have to find it."
"Why?" Jonghyun asked.
"Because," Taemin growled. Because in that phone held Taemin's last connection to Jongin, and even though it had been several years since Jongin moved, since the last time they'd spoken, since Taemin had messed everything up, he still wasn't ready to let go of that.
"What was on your phone, Taemin?" Minho asked softly.
Taemin pushed his palms further into his eye sockets and shook his head. He couldn't say it. After all this time, he still hadn't told any of the members what happened with Jongin.
Neither Jonghyun or Minho said anything but Taemin could feel them communicating wordlessly.
A hand gently grabbed Taemin's forearm and tugged him sideways, and Taemin felt himself hit Minho's chest and arms wrapped around him. "We can't help you if you don't tell us."
For a moment, Taemin considered telling them everything, but it passed quickly. "I'm okay, hyung." It didn't sound convincing even to himself, but they didn't push it.
Instead, Jonghyun sighed dramatically. “Ah, when will our Taeminnie learn to keep track of his things?”
Taemin opened his eyes and glared at Jonghyun, who smirked. “Hey!"
Minho took the opportunity to grab at his sides, tickling him. Taemin laughed and squirmed. “Nooooo!”
“We should attach all of your things to you with a bungee cable,” Minho said matter-of-factly, not relenting his attack.
Taemin falls heavy off the couch and onto the floor. He took a few gasping breaths of air and rolled to look up and Minho and Jonghyun. They’re both smiling. “I hate you both.”
“That’s no way to talk to your elders,” Jonghyun scolded him.
Minho just rolled his eyes and patted the now empty space next to him. “Come play FIFA with us, Taemin. We can look for your phone later.”
Taemin took another deep breath and closed his eyes. They probably wouldn’t find it; he couldn't think of anywhere else it could be. Jongin’s contact information was gone for good. But Minho always made good on his word so Taemin knew he would try to help anyway and he appreciated the gesture. “Okay, hyung.”
Maybe it was for the best.
Taemin tried to get comfortable on the couch without it tugging at his extensions too much. He’d already ripped out one earlier in the week by mistake and it hurt . He was pretty sure he’d be able to get rid of them soon, which was nice.
He was laying down in the main room of their dorm on one of their blessed days off with Kibum, who had chosen a pre-recorded music show to watch. Taemin hadn’t argued because EXO was in the line-up. Taemin had followed their debut closely. Their concept was unlike any Taemin had ever seen before. Twelve members, two subunits of six singing in Korean and Mandarin. They had super powers, too.
Jongin would have debuted with this group, if he had stayed. Taemin wondered which unit he would have been in and what his super power would have been. Would he have a stage name? For sure he would have been front and center for the dancing. Taemin wondered how much better Jongin had gotten. Probably a lot.
“EXO!”
Taemin blinked out of his daze to see that EXO-K had appeared on the screen. He didn’t really understand the song but the sound was cool. He also noticed not for the first time that all of the EXO members were very good-looking. He’d known some of them for a long time and it wasn’t like they were ugly before but it was honestly amazing how attractive they were now.
He wondered how Jongin would have looked. Would they have given him eyeliner? What would they have dressed him in? Some of the members didn’t have sleeves. Jongin would have looked good without sleeves.
Eventually EXO was replaced by a girl group. The song was upbeat, and talked about kissing a lot. Taemin settled further into the cushions. The girls were pretty. As they sang, he vaguely wondered what it would be like to kiss one of them. He’d never kissed a girl before. He’d only ever kissed one person.
But even though he thought they were pretty, the thought of kissing them didn’t really make him feel any different. Not like the song suggested it would. Maybe he just didn’t want to kiss anyone.
And he would have accepted this conclusion if he hadn’t wanted to kiss Jongin. But Jongin was a boy. And Taemin was a boy. He didn’t know of any songs about boys kissing boys. He’d heard some jokes about the idea in variety shows here and there, but they were just jokes.
For a moment, Taemin's brain entertained the idea of kissing one of the idol boys he had seen on a variety show. He felt himself blush and his palms became slightly clammy as he remembered the leather and the tight jeans and the muscles...
Oh.
Did he want to kiss boys? Taemin liked to look at boys. He loved watching them run and dance and move. Rolling hips always got his attention and bare pectorals made him want to touch.
But he wasn’t supposed to want to kiss boys. He was supposed to want to kiss girls. That’s what the variety show hosts tease him about. What girl is your type? He never knew how to answer that question. He almost always said something different every time he was asked. Minho had noticed and had teased him about it.
All of the sudden Taemin felt a sharp flick to his face. His eyes flew open and he flailed his arms, hoping to catch the perpetrator. Unfortunately, Kibum was already stepping away from him, grinning like a Cheshire cat
"What?" Taemin asked sharply.
Kibum flopped down in the armchair and tilted his head to the side. "You've been making faces for the last five minutes. What're you thinking about?"
Taemin squirmed. Half his brain was telling him that these thoughts were best kept internal while the other half was dying to talk to someone about it. And he felt like, out of everyone, Kibum was the most likely to talk to him openly about it.
"Have you ever..." Taemin started, but he trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut as his anxiety unexpectedly skyrocketed.
"Have I ever what?" Kibum prompted him. "You okay?" he added, a little softer.
Taemin took a deep breath but didn't open his eyes. "Have-you-ever-thought-about-kissing-boys?" He blurted as quickly as he could.
He hadn't expected Kibum to laugh. A large, full-bodied Kibum laugh complete with what sounded like an honest to God knee slap. Taemin’s heart rate picked up even more as he waited for Kibum to calm down. "Oh, Taeminnie,” Kibum said, finally. “I haven't just thought about it."
"What?" Taemin's eyes shot open and he sat up. "You've-?" The words caught again. Kibum's eyebrows raised and he motioned for Taemin to continue. Almost whispering this time, he asked, "you've kissed a boy?"
Kibum rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair, still smiling. "I've kissed a few boys."
Taemin's mouth fell open. Kibum has kissed a boy. Actually kissed one. More than one. "Who?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
“Hyuuuuung!” Taemin whined and sunk into the couch cushions. Something about the flippant way Kibum said it caused the bubble of anxiety in his chest to deflate faster than he ever thought possible. Kibum kissed boys. It was okay.
“Have you thought about kissing boys, Taemin?”
Taemin stiffened again and his head whipped around to look at Kibum. For once, he didn’t look teasing or mischievous, just curious, his head cocked to the side like a dog.
“I dunno,” Taemin answered, finally. “I… I like looking at them?”
Kibum rolled his eyes. “Well I knew that. ”
Groaning, Taemin rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the armrest. How had Kibum figured that out before him?
“It’s okay if you want to kiss boys, Taemin,” Kibum told him, just barely softer that his normal tone. “Just… Maybe only talk to us about it, alright? There’s nothing wrong with it, but a lot of society thinks there is.”
“Okay.” It was okay. I want to kiss boys . It was fine. Kibum had kissed boys. It was fine. He wasn’t supposed to talk about it. That was less fine. But Taemin wasn’t even sure who else he’d talk to about this outside the group.
Taemin breathed deeply then made a face. The couch didn’t smell all that great. He lifted his head up again to look at Kibum, who was still eyeing him. “Thanks, Kibum,” he said. It wasn’t something he said often, but he truly was thankful.
Kibum smiled and stood up. He walked over to Taemin and ruffled his hair. Ruining the moment, he said, “You’re welcome, brat.”
Someone snapped their fingers in front of his face. "Taemin."
Taemin jumped and looked up at Minho, who eyed him suspiciously. "Everything okay?" Minho asked.
"Yes, hyung. I was just thinking," Taemin told him. Which wasn't a lie. Everything was okay and he was thinking.
Minho took a seat beside him. "About what? You've been out of it this whole trip."
Jongin, Taemin answered in his head. He'd been thinking about Jongin a lot recently. More than that, he'd been imagining what it would be like if Jongin was here. What if Jongin hadn't moved, what would he be doing now? What if they ran into him here in Japan by coincidence? What if he showed up at a fansign? Or was in the audience at a concert?
What if he hadn't kissed Jongin that day? Would they still be friends? Sometimes Taemin wondered what it would have been like if Jongin had kissed him back.
The scenarios played out in his mind without permission and he'd get lost in them. He had entire conversations with Jongin in his head. He made up scenarios where Jongin forgave him, and they resumed their friendship where they left off. Sometimes the fantasies ended with them kissing, though this was even less likely to happen so Taemin tried to cut those off quickly. He wasn't exactly sure why his daydreams had picked up recently but they had.
"Taemin," Minho said again, and Taemin flinched. "Talk to me, please. I want to help. I know Jongin's birthday was last week. Is this about Jongin?"
Taemin whipped his head around to look at Minho with wide eyes. It was Jongin's birthday. How could he have forgotten that?
Minho smiled softly and brought his hand up to rest on the back of Taemin's neck. "What happened, Taeminnie? You two were so close. Did he say something to you?"
It would have been easier if that had been the case. Maybe he would have been able to move on. Taemin shook his head and looked down at his knees. "It's all my fault, Minho. Jongin didn't… It's my fault."
"What do you mean?" Minho was being incredibly gentle with him. He usually was but even more so now. It made Taemin want to tell him everything.
"I… Did something." He took a deep breath. "And I ruined everything. It wasn’t… I didn't mean to, but I wasn't thinking and I’m sure I confused him or scared him. And then I freaked out. And I don’t blame him for not talking to me. But," Taemin sniffled, startled to find that he was tearing up a little. "It wasn’t Jongin. It was my fault. I just wish I could fix it. I wish it had never happened."
"Taemin. I can't imagine you would do anything to get in the way of your friendship with Jongin. I've seen how much you miss him.” Minho ran his hand up and down Taemin’s back soothingly. “I liked Jongin, but whatever happened, if Jongin couldn't see how much you care about him, and that you'd never do anything on purpose to hurt him, that's not your fault. That's on him."
Taemin stood up and turned to look down and Minho. “I don’t think I hurt him. I just think… It was confusing. And I don’t know if he was mad or what but… It was my fault.”
“It’s not your fault.” Taemin wished he could believe Minho when he said that.
“We would still be talking otherwise. That means it’s my fault.” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore either. Even though it was only eight at night, Taemin bowed a little, said “goodnight,” and made his way to his room. Sleep was always the best escape anyways.
“P-r-e-double-t-y,” Taemin whispered along with his past self on the television. “Pretty boy.”
The song was fantastic. Taemin would forever be impressed with Jonghyun’s ability to put feelings into song lyrics. He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever talked to Jonghyun about this particular topic but his hyung had done a wonderful job with this song.
Taemin was used to being called ‘pretty’; he’s been called ‘pretty’ for years. He had been hoping maybe as he aged he would begin to look more traditionally manly but at this point it didn’t look like it was going to happen. So he might as well embrace it, and break down some perceptions along the way.
‘Ace’ was a particularly strong concept. It was a delicate balance of light and dark. Sensual, and sexy. Taemin really enjoyed exploring this side of himself, even if it involved showing much more skin than he was used to. It was helping him get more comfortable with his body, though. Maybe one day it wouldn’t feel so strange.
He smiled as he thought about his friends’ reactions to the concept. Their shock and praise gave Taemin a sense of glee. He felt like he’d finally grown up, that he’d found his own stride. His friends seemed to agree.
For a moment, Taemin wondered how Jongin reacted to this concept, or if he even saw it at all. Taemin hoped he had. Sometimes he still dreamt about what it would be like to see Jongin again, and he hadn’t quite given up that he might. He still missed his best friend. Still loved him.
“What do you think, Jongin?” Taemin asked the television outloud. “Do you think I’m pretty?” He laughed for a moment then sighed. “I hope you liked the mini album. I would have sent you a copy if I knew where you were. Are you still in San Francisco? Are you still dancing? I hope so.” Smiling, he closed his eyes. “I bet you’re handsome now. I wish I could see you.”
Taemin took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair.
“I hope you still think of me.”
Taemin didn't really get nervous before concerts anymore. He didn't want to say they were routine now, because every performance was different and special, but it sort of was. Pre-concert anxiety was rare now, or at least it was before they started the American leg of their world tour. It felt like he was expecting something to jump out at him.
They were in New York now, and his nerves were especially bad. He'd gotten little sleep the night before and he felt on edge during soundcheck.
"You alright?" Jonghyun asked him after a particularly large yawn.
Taemin nodded. "I didn't sleep much last night. But I'll be fine. The adrenaline will kick in."
The adrenaline did kick in before the concert and overall, they did a great show. But the entire time, Taemin couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Which was bizarre, because of course he was being watched. Literally everyone in the venue was watching him.
Exhaustion hit him almost the second they left they stage after the encore and all he wanted was to shower and then get to the hotel and sleep.
He took a longer shower than usual and then changed into his post-concert clothes. He had just curled up on a couch to wait for his manager to tell them it was time to go when Minho appeared in front of him.
"Hey, Taemin, can you come with me? I want to show you something."
Taemin pulled his hood down over his face and groaned in response, hoping Minho would take a hint.
The next thing he knew there were hands pulling him up off the couch by the armpits. "YAH!" he protested.
"You'll love it," Minho said, letting him go. He was smiling so wide, Taemin would have found it suspicious if he was more awake.
"Can't you just tell me?"
"Nope! Follow me."
Taemin grumbled as he trailed behind Minho, dragging his feet. He felt so close to falling asleep he almost wondered if he was already.
"I promise it will be worth it. Just two minutes,” Minho said.
"Hyung, I'm tired. I just want to be alone for a bit."
"Two minutes! You'll thank me later."
Minho led him through an open door.
There was a man standing in the center of the room. He was taller than Taemin and incredibly handsome. He had brown hair and dark eyes and a sharp jawline. He looked strikingly familiar. In fact, he looked a lot like an older version of...
Taemin had fallen asleep on the couch, that had to be what happened. This was all just a dream. It had been awhile since he'd had one quite this vivid but there was no way this was real.
The man looked like he was going to say something, but he didn't. Just waved a little and smiled a smile Taemin hadn't seen in eight years but still would know anywhere.
This wasn't a dream. Taemin could still feel the ache in his muscles from the show and his palm stung as he dug his fingernails into it. He wasn't asleep. In fact he was wide awake.
"Jongin."
Taemin looked up at the sleeping man he was clinging to. He still couldn't quite believe this was actually real.
His eyes traced over Jongin's face again. Kibum had told him once that watching people sleep was creepy, but Taemin couldn't help himself. Jongin looked so peaceful in his sleep.
Or maybe not in his sleep. Jongin's eyelids fluttered open and he whispered, "You should be sleeping."
Taemin shook his head. "This is a much better use of my time."
Jongin blinked sleepily at him. "What, watching me sleep?” His hand came up to card through Taemin’s hair and Taemin leaned into it.
“Just seeing your face. You’ve gotten to look at me whenever you wanted. The last picture I have of you, you were fourteen.” Taemin reached out and brushed some hair off of Jongin’s forehead. “Fourteen year old Jongin was cute and all, but now you’re…” Taemin trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.
“I’m what?” Jongin teased.
Taemin put his forehead against Jongin’s collarbone. “You’re so handsome Jongin,” he whispered.
Jongin laughed a little and his hand pulled Taemin’s chin up so he was looking Jongin in the eyes again. “You’re beautiful, Taemin.” And he pulled Taemin in, bringing their lips together for the second time that night. This wasn’t a dream.
“Go to sleep, Taeminnie,” Jongin told him when they finally pulled away. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
Taemin wrapped his arms around Jongin’s torso again, resting his head over his heart. “I know you will be.”