Chapter Text
The melody from the piano resonated through the speakers of the dance room, but that wasn’t what Taemin was focusing on. With his hand laid on the bar, he looked through the mirror at the dozen kids behind him doing plies and tendus. Two of them moved with a grace he hadn’t often seen, and somehow, he knew—they would pursue dancing when they grew up, and be great at it.
When the clock on the wall showed 5 P.M, Taemin turned the music off and faced his young students. “Good job, everybody!” he said enthusiastically as they started rushing to the locker room after saying goodbye. He grabbed his things and headed to the staff locker room, took his clothes off and stepped into the shower.
After he cleaned himself and got dressed in more casual clothes, he grabbed his phone to read the several messages he had gotten during the class.
From: Kibum
To: our own high school reunion because the real one sucked
Hey, are you all still up for tonight?From: Jinki
To: our own high school reunion because the real one sucked
I’m so excited!! Can’t wait to see Jonghyun again too!!From: Minho
To: our own high school reunion because the real one sucked
Same, I’m happy that Jonghyun is back! When did he arrive in Seoul?From: Kibum
To: our own high school reunion because the real one sucked
He came back a few days ago! He’s still getting situated but he looks happy
A smile formed on Taemin’s face—he was excited to see his friends again. It had been a while since they all found the time to hang out together, and that was without counting Jonghyun, who had disappeared right after the last day of high school—ten years ago.
“Hey, there you are!” his coworker-turned-friend Jongin called as he was about to leave the studio. “Don’t you have that hip-hop class later tonight?”
“Not this week,” Taemin answered with a shake of his head. He held the door open for Jongin to come out as well, the chill and damp air making him shiver.
“Do you want to go grab dinner? I don’t really feel like cooking and I’m done with the advanced ballet class as well,” Jongin asked with a smile on his face. The neon white color of the sign above the studio—Artistic Groove Dance Studio—reflected on his friend, soothing the lines of his face.
“I’m sorry,” Taemin started to say, and he could see Jongin’s expression change. Disappointment. “I have other plans tonight—I’m meeting people from high school,” he explained.
Jongin’s eyes went wide. “You’re still in contact with people from high school?” he asked in disbelief. “I’m definitely not—that’s not a time of my life that I’m particularly fond of.”
“I’m not as close with all of them, but we always stayed on good terms, you know,” Taemin explained and gestured his hand in the air. “It’s the first time in years we’re able to all meet together, so, it’s not really something I can skip,” he added with a smile on his face.
“Raincheck on that meal, then?”
Taemin nodded. “Definitely.”
They waved each other goodbye and Taemin went on his way, hopping into the nearest metro station to avoid the cold wind—fall had definitely started. Kibum lived on a busy side street in the middle of Hongdae, an area that Taemin was always fascinated by—all the lights and the people performing in the streets gave him a kind of energy he couldn’t find anywhere else, not even his dance studio. His parents had convinced him that the Gangnam area was a better fit for the Artistic Groove Dance Studio and would attract wealthier families—they hadn’t been wrong on that matter—but still, Taemin loved going to Hongdae. He often just sat on a bench and looked at people dancing, sometimes offering his business card to people he thought would benefit from his teachings. During sleepless nights, the streets of the area were his comfort blanket.
He got out of the metro when he reached the station closest to where Kibum lived. He quickly made his way through the busy main street and slid into a side street—it was way quieter than the heart of Hongdae, but still the agitation remained strong. He walked until he reached the right apartment building and pressed the bell.
“Rooftop!” Kibum’s voice resonated through the intercom and Taemin frowned. It was a bit too cold to spend the night on a rooftop, but his friend seemed to be quite confident.
The door opened and Taemin entered the building, then made his way up the stairs until he reached the last step. He opened the door and was met by string lights and fake grass—and his friends sitting on plastic chairs just a few meters away.
“Look who’s here!” Jinki shouted excitedly as he got up and spread his arms. Taemin couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his face and he made his way towards them, accepting Jinki’s quick embrace—they weren’t that close.
“Isn’t it a bit too cold to spend the evening on the rooftop?” he asked Kibum as his friend handed him a beer.
“It’s never too cold for a barbecue on the rooftop,” Kibum argued, and Taemin saw Minho roll his eyes behind him—his heart skipped a beat at Minho’s antics. He laughed and sat down on an empty chair when he suddenly remembered something.
“Before I forget—” he said quickly and started rummaging inside his bag. He grabbed the screwdriver he had been carrying all day and handed it to Minho. “You forgot this last week when you helped me with the kitchen cabinet,” he explained.
To Taemin’s surprise, Minho shook his head and refused to take it back. “You’ll probably need it again sometime soon anyway. Better to have it at your place all ready,” he said with a smile.
“So I don’t get to call you for help?” Taemin asked. Maybe he was a masochist, trying to find any reason to call Minho to his place so they could spend time together, but he liked the butterflies that had taken residence in his stomach and woke every time Minho was around. “I’ll probably call you anyway, I guess,” he added in a breath.
“I know you will,” Minho confirmed with a sparkle in his eyes, the kind of sparkle that fired up hope through his whole body. Maybe his friend was feeling the same about him. Taemin liked to believe that, but he didn’t want to find out.
He was too afraid Minho wouldn’t return his feelings.
“So, you two see each other a lot?” Kibum asked and pointed his finger at them.
“From time to time, yeah,” Taemin started explaining as he sat back in his chair. He was a master at looking casual. “We don’t live too far from each other, so it’s easy to meet up.”
“Your dance studio is not too far from the model agency either,” Minho added.
“Dance studio? Model agency?” Jinki asked with wide eyes. “Wait, I think I’m missing a few years here! When did that happen?”
Taemin let out a small laugh and took a sip of his beer. He glanced at Minho—he had a wide grin on his face. Taemin knew how proud he was about his career—he had worked so hard for it.
“I opened my own dance studio three years ago—thanks to Minho’s funds and my dad’s notary,” Taemin explained.
A smile formed on Jinki’s face—he looked genuinely happy. “You’ve been talking about doing that since you were, like, thirteen! That’s great!” he said. “And what about you?” he asked as he turned to Minho.
“Oh, nothing much, I joined a model agency about five years ago. I started to model for fast fashion brands, but lately I’ve been asked to participate in bigger projects, so that’s exciting,” he explained.
“He can’t say more because of NDAs,” Taemin added, a grin forming on his face as well. He was so proud of him, too.
“We actually rented clothes from your dog boutique for an ad campaign, Kibum,” Minho said. “That was a fun one, with all the dogs running around…”
Kibum’s phone beeped suddenly and Kibum quickly answered it. “Rooftop!” he shouted again, and a few moments later, someone was opening the door Taemin had gone through earlier.
“Jonghyun!” they all shouted, and Taemin felt overwhelmed by his emotions for a second. It had been ten years, and while Jonghyun looked nothing like he used to, he was also instantly recognizable.
“Woah, I’m so happy to see you guys again!” Jonghyun answered as he came to sit next to them.
“So, what happened to you? Where were you? Why are you back?” Kibum started asking. It was like he couldn’t stop asking questions.
“Woah, calm down!” Jonghyun said playfully, a grin on his face. “First, I’m hungry and thirsty.”
Taemin couldn’t stop a laugh and he reached for the crate of beers to hand one to Jonghyun while Jinki checked the meat on the grill and started to put it onto plates. As they all got settled with their food, Taemin looked around, a warm feeling taking over him. He had missed this—the simplicity of them spending time together. He was glad he came.
“So, Jonghyun,” Jinki started. “You know you won’t be able to escape this. Tell us what happened!”
Their friend swallowed heavily and nodded, his eyes glued on his plate. Everybody was quiet—too curious about Jonghyun’s story.
“So, guys,” Jonghyun finally said. “Don’t worry about me, okay? When I left, I just needed to see if the grass was greener elsewhere. I couldn’t breathe over here—but I’m good now!” he explained quickly.
Taemin could feel the tension around them. “Where did you go?” he asked, his voice low.
“I went to Thailand first,” Jonghyun answered. “Found a job as a dishwasher in a fancy restaurant, then I had some odd jobs as I went island hopping,” he continued with a shrug.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kibum asked, and Taemin looked up at him as he realized his tone was slightly accusatory. He remembered how devastated Kibum had been when Jonghyun left—they weren’t nice memories.
“I’m sorry,” Jonghyun said. “I really needed to get out of here.”
Taemin shivered, and he didn’t know if it was because he could relate to Jonghyun or because the wind was getting heavier. He liked to believe it was a bit of both.
“You cold?” Minho whispered to him as Kibum, Jinki and Jonghyun continued their conversation, and Taemin nodded. His friend instantly took his sweatshirt off and handed it to him—Taemin smiled at the gesture and melted inside. He knew it was his fault—he should have dressed with something more weather-appropriate—but still, he was glad for Minho’s offering.
It only took Taemin two bites of food before he felt the first droplet of water. He glanced at Minho who had the same look on his face—eyes wide and pursed lips. “Uh, guys?” Taemin asked tentatively.
Before his friends could answer, it started pouring, and Taemin’s instinct was to find shelter. He grabbed his plate and bag and ran towards the door, keeping it open for the others. Suddenly, they were all in the tiny hallway, some things abandoned on the roof—it would be a problem for later.
“Well, I guess we’re continuing this party in my apartment, then,” Kibum said in a breath.
The moment he went through the door, Taemin realized it was the first time he was seeing Kibum’s place. Every time they had met here, Kibum had proposed they go out to a coffee shop or to the rooftop. As Kibum walked down the entryway, he put down the picture frame that lay on the console, and Taemin was almost sure that what Kibum wanted to hide was a picture of him and another man—he couldn’t stop from frowning. That wasn’t usual behavior for him.
As he walked further in, he realized Kibum’s place looked exactly how he had imagined it. A blank canva filled with purposeful pieces, each one more colorful than the previous one. The place felt cramped with five people in the living room, but Taemin liked that feeling. He instinctively looked at Minho who was having a conversation with Jinki, and Jonghyun appeared in front of him, making him jump slightly.
“So, how are you and Minho doing?” his friend asked him with a wide grin on his face, and Taemin frowned.
“What do you mean, me and Minho?” Taemin asked back. “I’m doing well, the dance studio I’m running is quite successful—”
“Don’t you and Minho live together?”
“No…” Taemin answered and shook his head as his heart picked up the pace. “Why did you think—?”
“Oh, are you moving in together soon then?”
“I’m sorry, Jonghyun, I don’t understand,” Taemin finally said and took a sip of his beer so he could occupy his hands. “Why are you asking about me and Minho?”
Suddenly, Jonghyun’s cheeks turned red and his eyes grew wide. “Oh, nevermind!” he muttered, his voice getting stuck in his throat. “I just thought—you two seemed very close—but I was wrong, obviously—”
“Wrong about what?” Taemin asked before he realized it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what his friend was implying, but part of him was curious enough for multiple people.
Jonghyun took a deep breath, then looked into his eyes. “I just assumed that you and Minho were together, but apparently I was completely wrong.”
“Wh-what?” Taemin asked as he almost let go of his glass. “No—no, we’re not together—we’re—friends,” he said, the last word difficult to get out. It was the truth, though. He and Minho were friends. It didn’t matter that he had developed feelings for him more than ten years ago. It didn’t matter that maybe, if he had acted on them at the time, they could be living together. They could celebrate their ten-year anniversary.
It didn’t matter, because he hadn’t acted on them. They had remained friends all this time, Taemin doing his best to shield himself from Minho’s love stories—to the point that he had no idea who Minho dated, if he even dated—and it had worked well for him all this time.
Until this second.
He dried his clammy hands on his pants as he tried to maintain composure. He was a coward. Jonghyun knew how to face his problems, how to solve them, even if it included dropping everything and starting over.
And what had he done all this time? Merely existing. Observing Minho from afar, dreaming about more but never taking a chance in fear of the whole house of cards collapsing, never thinking that it could be rebuilt—or abandoned for a while, if facing Minho after a rejection was too hard.
“I’m sorry—that was silly of me,” Jonghyun said under his breath, but Taemin noticed the glance he threw at Minho.
Jinki suddenly grabbed his arm and asked him something, and Taemin was glad he could get out of this conversion with Jonghyun. The evening continued on, filled with conversations and beers until it was clear that people were ready to go home.
“We should do this more often,” Jinki told everybody. “I know I’ve been the one that always cancels, and I’m sorry, but I’d really like us all to meet more often now.”
“We’ll just meet without you if you cancel one more time,” Minho said playfully, and they all laughed. “Taemin, want a ride home?” he asked towards him.
Taemin’s heart started beating faster in his chest. Usually, he would have said yes instantly—there was no question about it. They lived close enough to each other that it made sense—
“I”m good, thank you, Minho,” he said instead, unable to meet his eyes. The mere idea of acting on his feelings had him paralyzed. He couldn’t do this. But also, he couldn’t do nothing, he realized. “It stopped raining, I’ll take the metro—”
“You sure?”
Taemin was finally able to glance at him, and as their eyes met, he noticed Jonghyun’s stare from the corner of his eyes—he swallowed heavily. “Yeah, I like the weather after the rain, don’t worry,” he answered with the most genuine smile he could produce. He needed some time alone to process his thoughts.
They all left Kibum’s apartment and went their separate ways. As Taemin was walking towards the metro station, a thousand thoughts running through his head, he put his hands in the pouch of Minho’s sweatshirt as he was looking for some warmth. “Shit!” he mumbled to himself. “I didn’t give him back his sweatshirt!”
He looked back instinctively, but he knew it was too late—he had already crossed the busy street and Minho had already gotten to his car and driven away. He’d have to give it to him the next time they saw each other. He sighed deeply—he’d have to face him alone sooner rather than later.
The thought made his skin crawl—why was he like this, all of a sudden? Minho was still his best friend. Yes, he had feelings for him, had them for years, but it didn’t change anything. If he suddenly acted weird around him, Minho would know that something was wrong. It was unfair to him.
As he fidgeted inside the pouch of Minho’s sweatshirt, he felt something hard hit the pad of his thumb. He quickly took the thing out, and his heart started beating quickly inside his chest as he realized what it was—Minho’s old music player. More specifically, the iPod Taemin had bought him for his fifteenth birthday. The bright orange of the metallic casing had a few scratches, but other than that, it still looked fairly new.
Taemin’s metro arrived and he quickly entered the train and found a seat. As the train started, he couldn’t stop thinking—why did Minho still have that music player? It was old and outdated, and he had enough money to subscribe to any of the music platforms through his phone—and yet he carried around a fifteen-year-old iPod? Part of him was happy to be faced with a mystery that distracted him from his other uncomfortable thoughts.
He grabbed the music player again and put the earbuds in his ears—they were wrapped around it neatly—and started scrolling through the menu to look at what Minho was listening to. As he arrived into the playlists menu, he paused for a second as his name came up on the screen.
About Taemin
His heart missed a beat. Why did Minho have a playlist with his name on it? It didn’t make any sense—well, he could think of one explanation, but it made him shiver. What if the reason Minho had a playlist named after him was the same reason Taemin had a playlist he listened to when he wanted to daydream about Minho?
With shaking fingers, he opened the playlist and scrolled through the songs. Sweat fell down his back as he recognized most of the music—love songs. Minho had a playlist named after him with love songs in it.
He couldn’t believe it—surely he was dreaming. It simply couldn’t be true. There had to be another explanation. When he saw a song he didn’t recognize, he pressed play.
The sound of the soft guitar instantly enveloped him, the arpeggio slow and harmonic. Then, a mellow voice started singing.
Shall we ballet?
Like you're sliding on the water
Your pointed toe slightly more forward
Rainy Saturday
Before this rain stops
Take me dancing once again
Taemin instantly felt transported. It was like somehow, this song had been written for him. He remembered those summer nights while he was in dance school and had to practice a new choreography. Often, he had resorted to practice outside due to not having any room available—and every time, Minho had volunteered to stay with him and help him with his moves. Taemin remembered how many times he had ended up blushing as Minho repositioned one of his arms or legs.
Since the morning, you and I
Have waited for the rain to fall
In this weather with you,
How can I be this happy?Jump over the blue fence and into the sky
Spread your wings and turn around
Whether the rain splashes or not
We’re just dancing in the rain
He couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on his face as memories poured back in. All those sleepless nights that they spent outside, near the river, dreaming the world. At that time, he had wondered if Minho shared his feelings. He had almost acted on them, the way his friend’s eyes sparkled with the moonlight too enticing to resist.
Except he had resisted. Too afraid of losing his friendship, he had decided to preserve it.
We're living for love
You recognize me
I’m following your steps
I’m getting drunk
The fog makes us wetter
Heart started beating faster in his chest as realization creeped in. It was a love song. Just like all the other songs present in the playlist. This one, though, felt overly specific to the point that tears were starting to collect in the corner of his eyes.
As the chorus played again, Jonghyun’s words from earlier came back to his mind— I just assumed that you and Minho were together— and something clicked in him. There was a reason Jonghyun had picked up on that!
Where we are going
Nobody knows
When the rain stops
What was I meant to say?
I don’t know
As he got up from his seat and left the train, he did know. He could barely stand on his knees, fear creeping up inside of him at the thought of talking to Minho about this, but he knew he had to do it. They had waited long enough. Too long.