Work Text:
Idea, a noun, a thought or suggestion as to a possible course of action.
It's a strange concept, Ten finds.
He has ideas about everything – ideas about how to improve his dancing and singing, ideas about how to move out of the dormitories, ideas about what makes a house a home.
There's a lot of ideas in the life of an idol; they're a daily facet of the creative process, the scheduling processing, and, well, pretty much everything they did. They follow them around, haunt them if they don't make them at the right time, ifs and buts stalking their dreams and nightmares if an idea isn't found in a neat little time schedule.
It's not how brains work, nor how they're supposed to work, but that's part of the life of a celebrity, Ten supposes.
But, right now, the ideas and thoughts and sketches and questions left open in choreography practice are not the ones haunting Ten.
It's his idea of what a home is, as he packs another box full of his belongings.
After god knows how many years, he finally made the decision to move out of the dormitory, to find an apartment of his own and live away from the rest of the group. It isn't that he doesn't love his group, he would kill for every single member he lives with, but the business of the dormitory just… doesn't really suit him. There's too much drama, or someone takes up all the hot water showering, or someone accidentally turns your alarm off rather than snooze and now you're twenty minutes late.
He likes his chaos, but in controlled amounts, and his morning wake up routine is much more quieter, more a cup of coffee in the quiet watching Leon and Louis laze around rather than running around in a panic about being late. It's reading over his schedule, stroking his cats gently, as he scrunches his nose up at the despicable blocks of his time so easily layered out for him.
That is Ten's idea of a morning.
His idea of a home is quiet, fun, loud at the times it needs to be or they deserve it, but mundane, no fire alarm going off at five in the morning because someone fell asleep making breakfast.
And…
Ten stops packing the box and looks at his phone on the bed.
He still really, really needs to reply to that text.
It had come through yesterday morning when Ten was complaining about someone waking him up an hour early.
He'd been pulled out of his sleep via the sound of thumping and a yelp, someone apparently falling over outside his room. When sleep refused to reclaim him, he rolled over and grabbed his phone. He had originally planned to open the group chat and groan at them for waking him up but then he saw three messages from his partner and opened them instead.
Ah, good morning~
It's so cold this morning
You wake up so late for your schedules, it's amazing you're ever on time kekeke
Taemin-ah, some of us actually wake up to our alarms and don't go back to sleep for an hour and wake up with ten minutes to get ready
It was one time!
Ten had vented, groggy and annoyed, about how he has to move out of the dorms because if he's woken up early one more time he might commit actual premeditated murder.
Well, with that in mind, we've been together for a year or so now, right?
We have, it's our anniversary next month
Maybe it's a bit earlier than what most would plan, but…
Why don't you move in with me?
Ten stared at the text, reading it over and over before throwing his phone across the room like he had been burned. Why, he wasn't sure.
But he avoided the KakaoTalk chat for the rest of the day, refusing to look at it or think about it until his schedules for the day were done.
Taemin hadn't contacted him since and guilt festered in Ten's stomach. That's just the way Taemin is – waiting, with no pressure.
But still, he was probably waiting for even a simple no or he had to think about it, or at least say he was considering his options.
He sighs and sits heavily on his bed, rubbing his face before picking his phone up and opening the message thread, blinking at it.
He still wasn't sure why the message intimidated him so much.
Taemin was his boyfriend, his partner, and had been since SuperM debuted and they'd gotten close over the project – much to the rest of the group's utter delight for all their teasing.
But that was sort of the problem.
Taemin is… Taemin.
Taemin is an undiluted hurricane of energy and creativity, of perseverance and strength, of weakness and fragility. He's everything and nothing at the same time and it's what had attracted Ten to his hyung originally, but the idea of actually living with him… is daunting.
It's not like they haven't shared a bed before, or pseudo lived with each other before.
Between schedules, when they have precious time off, Ten would usually pack a bag or two and stay at Taemin's with no distractions as they wasted a week away. They'd simply drink in one another's company, spend time together, do whatever they wished and just exist in each other's space.
Existing in one another's space is much different to always being there in that same space.
I'm sorry, work got really busy yesterday. Let me think about it?
It's five minutes before a reply comes through, short and sweet.
Take all the time you need, and rest up. You're doing amazing, Ten, don't forget to take care of yourself as well.
A blush covers Ten's face and he sighs. He drops his phone on the bed, heading to the kitchen to find something to eat, following his boyfriend's advice. There should be some leftovers from dinner the night before in the fridge and he opens it, peering in.
Unsurprisingly, they've mostly been raided already, but there's a portion of tom yum goong left. He grabs it, heating it up, before heading back to his room with a plate and cutlery, perching at his desk.
He thinks about what his idea of a perfect home would be.
He'd wake up in the morning, make a coffee, maybe sketch some art and play with the cats. He'd head to work and then come home to Louis and Leon, play some more with them, cook dinner and watch Netflix or something until his bed called him.
He frowns as he chews on a shrimp, staring at the wall.
The concept of coming home to an empty house is… well, an empty house. It isn't a home.
It's depressing to think about and Ten sighs as he stirs the soup round the container.
His brain provides him the image of coming home to Taemin on the couch, Kkoong, Louis and Leon curled up with him. He lets himself pursue the idea – coming home to find Taemin's cooked or has take-out kept warm for him. The idea of being woken up by Taemin kissing his neck, the way Taemin tends to on their time off. Relaxing together, curled up on the couch with the cats, laughing their way through a horror movie before curling up, entwined with one another in bed, lazy talking as they slowly fall asleep in each other's arms.
The idea of that… feels like a home, not a house. It makes his chest warm, a glow spreading through his veins and making his toes curl as he chews on another shrimp.
He smiles and nods to himself. Taemin is his idea of home.
Taemin opens his door, cursing at the infernal knocking that woke him up at eight am on his one day off this week.
He blinks at Ten, breathless, cheeks flushed, staring up at him. There's a box in his hands that's labelled closet.
He blinks again and looks up at Ten.
"Yes. I'll move in with you."
Taemin takes a moment to register what Ten actually said before he breaks into a smile and steps aside. He takes the box from his hands and leans in, pressing a kiss to Ten's lips once they're in the privacy of his hallway.
"Welcome home."