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Jonghyun can’t walk on his own anymore. Half a mile uphill to their hotel, two flights of stairs up to their room, where the fuck did he put their key, three feet to the bed, and Taemin can’t breathe. The mattress groans loudly under their combined weight, but Jonghyun doesn’t get the memo that it’s okay to let go, holding onto him for dear life, murmuring into his neck, soft and warm at his back.
As soon as strength returns to his arms, Taemin pries Jonghyun’s fingers loose, shoves him onto his back with a thwump and a low groan. He doesn’t want to hear it, he is so not in the mood. There is absolutely nothing cute about any of this, Jonghyun and him, or Jonghyun and soju, or anything Jonghyun’s said or done since they arrived in Cheorwon.
“Taemin-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.”
Including that.
The faster Taemin gets to his feet the faster he gets this over with. He wants this over with. He wants tomorrow to come, and then the next day, and the next. However long it takes to get rid of this feeling, however far he has to go, he’d start right now if he could. He’d give anything.
Jonghyun pushes his face into the blanket, kicking his legs out, struggling feebly as Taemin swings them up onto the bed, peels off his socks.
“Stop it,” he whines. “Don’t touch me. Only Taeminnie. Want Taeminnie back, give him back to me.”
Taemin doesn’t bother telling him any of the many things he could, like you stop it, or I’m right here, dumbass. Just sticks to the basics, “Stay still,” and goes for his belt, fumbling with the buckle. Except Jonghyun listens to him, and Taemin can feel his look on his skin. Under it, too. Everywhere.
Pockets.
“Taemin-ah.”
Hands full, throat closing up, Taemin turns to the nightstand, and when he drops Jonghyun’s shit before he gets there, all the better. Just another excuse not to look back, just another excuse to hide, crouching on the floor, knee digging into his chest where his heart used to be. If he’s waiting for his body to make sense, he’ll wait forever, and Jonghyun gives him no time at all, wriggling over to the edge of the bed, hand landing on Taemin’s head, clumsy and warm and there.
“Aigoo, you’re gonna hate yourself tomorrow. Just don’t hate me, okay? How am I supposed to cut you off if you can’t even drink one bottle, aigoo, aigoo, aigoo.”
“Never hate you,” Jonghyun tells him.
Phone. Keys. Wallet.
Taemin’s fingers betray him on that last one, clumsy and stupid, loose change skittering across the floorboards. Jonghyun’s hand passes down his spine as he stretches under the bed to collect it, resting on the small of his back, fingers spreading over Taemin’s skin, catching in Taemin’s shirt on the way back out and up. Taemin twists away, flipping Jonghyun’s wallet open, and finds himself.
“What is this? You picked this one to make fun of me,” Taemin says, as soon as he gets his voice back. “It’s such a shitty picture, hyung. It won’t even be funny after a while.” He heaves himself to his feet, standing over Jonghyun. Jonghyun’s eyes follow him up, staring into his face. “Next comeback, if it comes out cute, I’ll send you my photocard. Promise you’ll get rid of this thing.”
Taemin should rip it up right now, throw away the evidence. But Jonghyun won’t remember where it got to, and maybe he’ll miss Taemin more.
“Stay with me.” Jonghyun’s fingers close over Taemin’s wrist. “Please? Please stay. Please.”
He tugs at Taemin, hugging Taemin’s arm to his chest, turning over. Taemin should probably tell Jonghyun there’s only one bed and Taemin has nowhere else to go, but it’s easier to get the light and pick his way over Jonghyun’s body, laying down next to him. More comfortable to cross his ankle over Jonghyun’s instead of saying I’m not going anywhere, pet what’s left of Jonghyun’s hair instead of reminding him, you’re the one who’s leaving. Just for tonight, this room is his entire world.
Just for tonight, Jonghyun is here.
Time passes like normal, somehow. Taemin has to lift his head to see the clock over Jonghyun’s shoulder. Sometimes it tells him he has forever, sometimes it tells him he’s almost out of time. He should try to sleep, but that would mean closing his eyes.
“You look so weird with a buzz cut.” Taemin can’t hate it, though, not when it’s on Jonghyun’s head. He rubs his hand over it, soft and bristly. Hesitates. “Your dad still has all his hair, right?”
Jonghyun makes a face at him.
“It’s sexy.”
Taemin doesn’t know what to tell him. “It’ll grow back.”
That works. Jonghyun smiles, big and stupid, nestling closer, eyes sliding shut, a breath away, washing Taemin’s face in soju. Taemin lasts about a minute like that, holding his nose, staring into Jonghyun’s face, and then he has to turn over, before Jonghyun takes another peek at him, sees the look on Taemin’s. A couple deep breaths later, he fumbles behind him for Jonghyun’s hand, threading their fingers together, drawing Jonghyun’s arm over his body. Jonghyun snuggles closer, snuffling into Taemin’s neck, curling his body around Taemin’s, pushing his toes into Taemin’s calf.
“Taemin-ah.”
Taemin fights for control. “What?”
All that work just to sound normal, and all Jonghyun has for him is, “Taemin-ah,” again.
Somehow that’s enough. It’s easier the second time.
“What?”
“Taemin-ah.”
Taemin smiles into the pillow. “I hope there’s a war.”
“Taemin-ah.”
“I hope there’s not, so I can kill you myself.”
“Taemin-ah,” Jonghyun says again.
Except, this is the last time. This is the time his voice breaks. Taemin doesn’t know how to put him back together, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to, when Jonghyun is breaking his heart, too. What is he supposed to do about that. He’s just one person, he’s just Jonghyun’s boyfriend, he can’t win against Kim Jongun or Moon Jaein. And if he can’t live without Jonghyun for two years, how have north and south survived for seventy?
“What is it, hyung?”
Jonghyun fights him when he tries to sit up, holding him tight, mashing his face into Taemin’s neck. Taemin squeezes his hand, turns in his arms, shirt twisting underneath him, arm trapped under his body, shoulder popping, hair in his eyes, and then he gets his first good look at Jonghyun and everything stops. And maybe Taemin’s fucked up, maybe hiding would hurt them both less, but he can’t leave Jonghyun alone, not now, not like this.
He won’t cry. He won’t.
“I miss you,” Jonghyun gets out.
“I’m right here.”
Jonghyun’s face crumples. Taemin chest goes tight. He tries kissing it away, kissing it better, Jonghyun’s forehead, his hair, his cheeks, his eyes, his lips. Jonghyun’s breathing hitches, and he leans into it, wet and messy, sobbing into Taemin’s mouth. He tastes like tears.
“Always.” Jonghyun chokes on the word. “Always.”
And then all of the sudden it’s too much, and it’s all Taemin can do to hold him through it.
“I’ll visit you,” he says into Jonghyun’s hair, patting his back. “So much you’ll get sick of me, you’ll tell me to go bother Jinki hyung instead.” No good. “I won’t listen to you, okay? I never do, you know that.”
Jonghyun cries harder.
Taemin talks to him until he loses his voice, and then some more. Whatever he can think of, for Jonghyun to hear.
Try to make friends, okay? You’ll be older than everyone else, they won’t be able to mess with you. And anyway, you make it impossible to dislike you.
Shinee’s got a lot of fanboys, too. Maybe there’ll be one in your unit?
I can’t leave you here if I know you’re going to be alone. Tell me you’ll be okay.
It’s not that I don’t want you to miss me, but you always go overboard, hyung. Don’t get lonely when you think of me, okay? Remember the good stuff. Happy stuff. I don’t want to make you cry ever again. I don’t want to be hard on you, I want to make everything else a little easier.
You better remember this and treat me well when it’s my turn.
I love you too, hyung.
Always.
When Taemin wakes up it’s to sunlight filtering in through the blinds, and Jonghyun puking his guts out in the bathroom. By the time Taemin shuffles out of bed to pat his back, it’s just about over, and when he steps into the shower, Jonghyun follows him. Taemin soaps him up, eyes following his hands, trying to memorize every tiny part of his body, burn Jonghyun into his mind, and he can feel Jonghyun doing the same. They shouldn’t have gone drinking, they should have fucked all night instead. Taemin should’ve given Jonghyun bruises and hickeys instead of a hangover, fucked him as long and hard as Jonghyun wanted, stayed inside Jonghyun for a week. This isn’t the last time, but they don’t even know when the next one will be, and Taemin feels so empty, and the only thing that could ever fill him up is Jonghyun. He wants Jonghyun inside him, right now.
They’re out of time.
Jonghyun’s too sick to eat breakfast, and Taemin can’t get anything down, so they check out. Taemin drove Jonghyun up here, fighting over the radio, stopping for snacks and then for gas, stopping to look at the view, stopping to stretch their legs, stopping to eat, to make out, just to stop. They lasted until dark but they still ended up right here, and now the sun is rising on them.
They make it to the car before Jonghyun pulls Taemin’s world out from under him.
“I've been thinking...it'd be better if you don’t see me off, Taeminnie.” He passes his hand over Taemin’s hair. “I’ll get a taxi from here, okay? If you leave now you should get to Seoul before rush hour.” What does that matter? He has two years to be alone, what’s the rush. Jonghyun returns his look with one of his own, pinching Taemin’s cheek. “Go on, you have a long way back.”
Taemin has been fighting with himself all morning, all of yesterday, this past week…but he gets up to do it again.
“It’s too late to act cool, hyung.” For a while that’s all he can get out, chest tight, throat tighter, and maybe his face is giving him away. Deep breaths, eyes on the ground, too late already, but he can’t just give up, break down. “It’s okay if you cry. You did all night already.”
“I’m not the only one,” Jonghyun says gently, taking Taemin’s face in his hands, lifting his chin, thumbing his tears away. There’s no point, when Taemin can feel more coming. “I don’t want to see you like that.” Jonghyun makes a face, squishes his cheeks a little. “Smile, Taeminnie. Mm? Mm?”
Taemin tries again.
“I’ll visit you,” he says.
Jonghyun smiles back, small and tired, but there. “You said already. Seeing you without kissing you will be hard.” He pretends to think about it. “I’ll flirt with you. We can play footsie. If no one’s looking we can hold hands.”
Taemin takes Jonghyun’s hand now, holds it in both of his, swallowing back the sour taste in his mouth. He tries making it into a joke, tries being a brat. “That’s all, that’s it?”
He’d try anything, do anything, as long as it doesn’t mean goodbye.
Jonghyun plays along, rewards him with that look that says he’s being unreasonable. “I can’t leave the base, Taeminnie.”
It’s easy enough to reply, “Your vacation days are all mine,” but Taemin means it. And he means this next thing, too. “We can kiss in the bathroom if we have to.”
He has his hand for a lot of stuff, toys for the rest, porn, memories, the Jonghyun in his phone, nudes and dick pics, and the Jonghyun in his head too…but he can’t go two years without a kiss. He’s not sure he can go two weeks. He won’t.
Like he’s read his mind, Jonghyun leans in for one now, soft and sweet and lingering. Taemin ruins it as best he can, no hair to pull, just bristles under his palm, digging his fingers into Jonghyun’s scalp, the knobs of his spine, pulling him close, putting his hands everywhere, sticking his tongue in his mouth. Jonghyun gives back as good as he gets, dragging his hands down Taemin’s back, over his ass, up his shirt. Taking Taemin’s bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard, sucking on it harder, breathing harsh, eyes squeezed shut.
“Don’t forget about me,” he says into Taemin’s mouth.
Like Taemin ever could.
“I’ll wait for you.”
That’s as much as Taemin can say. As much as he can take. He pulls away, feels his way along the car, but Jonghyun grabs his arm, pulls him back into his arms. Taemin holds on for dear life, burying his face in Jonghyun’s neck.
“You’re the one who told me to go. Don’t tell me things if you don’t want me to do them, how am I supposed to know.”
“Don’t cheat on me,” Jonghyun says into his skin.
“Don’t be stupid.”
Jonghyun half laughs, half sobs.
“Tell me you won’t look at other men.” He squeezes Taemin tighter, kind of desperate. “Tell me I’m the only one.”
“I don’t want anybody else.”
Taemin could say more, so much more, I want you, You make me happy, You think I’d cry over just anybody?, it’s you, hyung. It’s always gonna be you, I liked you for like eight years on my own, two is nothing….but that’s enough. Jonghyun relaxes his hold on him, relaxes into him, makes that little sound that he only ever makes when it’s something good. He doesn’t pull away, though, and Taemin’s not about to let go. He’s never letting go.
”This is so stupid. You feel bad when you step on bugs and they’re going to teach you how to shoot people, does that make any sense? What are you going to do, hyung?”
What am I supposed to do without you?
Jonghyun pulls away just enough to give Taemin a smile. “I guess I’ll work on my abs?”
Is Taemin supposed to smile back?
“You don’t need to.”
“Then…I’ll just keep you waiting,” Jonghyun says. When Taemin strokes his cheek he presses a kiss into Taemin’s palm, takes his hand, holds his eyes. “Think of me, okay? I’ll be thinking of you.”
There’s only one thing left for Taemin to say.
“You know how much I love you, right?” Taemin takes a deep breath, then another, until he can say, “You better.”
And then he puts his whole heart into it, and smiles back.
Two years is nothing, if he has Jonghyun waiting for him on the other side. And right now, he has Jonghyun’s love. He’d do anything to keep it all to himself, forever.
Taemin could have gone his whole life without meeting Jonghyun, Jonghyun could have gone his whole life without ever looking at Taemin, liking him back. He could be alone right now, they both could be. Most people are.
Two years.
They can do this.
Starting…
Now.