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Taemin's never been so vulnerable with Jonghyun before, as long as they've known one another—he's laid himself out, bare, heart on his sleeve all for Jonghyun, and the guy is baffled.
It's different when he's venting to Jonghyun about his emotions, missing his family, missing the version of himself he used to be, because rarely is that about Jonghyun. This confession of his, out of nowhere from Jonghyun's perspective, it's stunned him. He's speechless, and Taemin isn't quite sure what to say either, and they've been staring at one another in silence for long enough for it to definitely be classified as awkward.
Taemin's fists clench up at his sides, his heart rate picking up as he tries and fails to gather the courage to speak again. The silence isn't the main contributor to Taemin's hesitation, it's the look on Jonghyun's face—his lips just barely downturned into a frown, eyebrows pulled together in what almost looks like pity, if Taemin's looking at it as cynically as the doubts in his head want him to. Never in his life has Jonghyun looked at him this way. He doesn't want it to happen ever again.
There's this urge it puts in Taemin to just run away, leave Jonghyun with a hundred questions he will never get the answers to. Anything to make this stop, to not have to see Jonghyun this way anymore, to—
"Taemin," he starts, and Taemin feels the thoughts dissipate into a fog in his head.
Jonghyun refuses to break the eye contact they've had for a few minutes now, and if he isn't looking away, Taemin isn't going to either. His heart is in his throat when he responds, voice so quiet that Jonghyun wouldn't be able to hear if he wasn't so close, "Yes?"
Jonghyun gulps, and it's silent still for a little longer before he says, very simply, "We can't."
If Taemin were any stupider, he would ask for an elaboration, but he knows too well what Jonghyun means. He knows, and yet, "Who says we can't?"
Jonghyun once said what he admires most about Taemin is his passion, the way he fights for what he wants and loves until the end. Taemin hadn't said it then, but the first thing he thought was, my passion is going to be the death of me.
That is, if it's not Jonghyun taking him down first before it has the chance to. Taemin's heart is beating so fast now, he feels it might burst through his chest and splat on the floor between them.
"Who says we can't," Jonghyun repeats, eyes wide. "Have you forgotten who we are, how careless you are?" It would hurt Taemin's feelings if it wasn't Jonghyun saying it.
"I would be careful about this," he returns, sounding as sure as he's ever sounded in his life, feeling as sure as he ever has. "I know what it's like. You're not the first man I've loved."
Taemin had expected it to take him by surprise, but instead, Jonghyun only sighs, exasperated. He pinches between his eyebrows, shuts his eyes and says, "This is just the worst time ever for you to drop this on me," and the sincerity of it takes Taemin aback, knocks the wind out of him.
"You know," Jonghyun continues, with a laugh so dry Taemin knows it's anything but comical, "I gave up on this, on.. On you. I knew it would never work. I just got over you, and you tell me this?"
No, Taemin thinks, the wind wasn't knocked out of me then. It's now that he's really feeling it, his knees suddenly weakening, and if his eyes weren't open to see the room unmoving around him, he swears he'd think he's falling through the floor.
"You.." Taemin blinks, vision fuzzy. "You had feelings for me? Since when?"
That dry laugh comes out of Jonghyun again. "Have feelings for you, apparently. So much for moving on, I guess."
Jonghyun pauses before he answers the question, but no amount of silence could've prepared Taemin for it: "For years now. I'm not sure when it started." Taemin might really be a puddle at his feet by the end of the night.
But he came here to be honest about his feelings, so that's exactly what Taemin does. "It's the same for me," he makes himself say, fists clenching up at his sides again.
Jonghyun gives him this smile, like he'd figured that.
Then it's silent again. It's not as uncomfortable as when the two were staring one another down, not to Taemin, but he wouldn't exactly call it pleasant to be in, either. It's just that—silence. Not negative, not positive. Only quiet.
It's apparently enough quiet for Jonghyun to make his mind up on what he wants to say next, which is, "We aren't kids anymore, Taemin."
But oh, how Taemin wishes they were. The things they'd gotten up to back then, the kisses they'd shared and never spoken of again. Then Jonghyun grew up, left Taemin as a boy behind for long-legged, respectful and elegant women, and Taemin never had the heart to ask him, what happened to us?
They haven't spoken about those years since, not even when they were in them. If only the Taemin of the past could see him now, on the verge of a fight-or-flight response, certainly leaning towards flight. "If.." He gulps. "If things were different—"
"They aren't," Jonghyun spits out. His voice is much softer, much more regretful when he says, "They probably won't ever be."
It's something Taemin can't argue with. He doesn't have to, though, because within a moment, Jonghyun's speaking again, "If they were, I would pick you in a heartbeat, you know."
And Taemin smiles, because even stuck as they are, it's nice to hear. He can't fix the world with his bare hands—if Jonghyun is the one of all people telling him that, it must be true—but Taemin won't deny the little love Jonghyun allows him. It's the only solace he figures he'll get in the situation he's been forced into.
The situation they've both been forced into, he remembers, when Jonghyun takes Taemin's hand in his and looks into his eyes, somber smile matched perfectly. At least I have you.