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It’s the little things.
Like how he always licks that one trickle down the rim of his coffee mug instead of wiping it off like an adult.
Or how he owns twenty pairs of shoes but wears the same pair for an entire month, no matter how mismatched they are with the rest of his outfit. These are so comfortable, he’d tell Taehyun by the doorstep whenever they’re on their way out. As if Taehyun doesn’t already know he’d discard them for the next pair he fancies.
Or how he purposely slows and silences his movements when Taehyun is deep into a book so he wouldn’t disturb him, as though doing so would be unforgivable. He doesn’t realize Taehyun is more distracted by how silly he looks, but Taehyun pretends his efforts are paying off because it’s never not adorable.
Or how he steals kisses on the cheek when he thinks Taehyun isn’t awake.
The trivial, seemingly ordinary things no one would be bothered to remember – those are what Taehyun supposes he’ll miss the most.
Mino was never the one. He wasn’t the rich, sophisticated businessman Taehyun had always convinced himself he’d settle with so he can freely enjoy his precarious lifestyle without having to worry about insipid things like money or where he’s going to live. Someone who would be too busy to bother Taehyun when he’s out there travelling the world, and would only be too happy to support his many interests like art and music and photography. Perhaps he’d be a good fuck, that’s always a plus. Taehyun imagines living as a free spirit while he’d be his anchor to reality.
Someone Taehyun would care about deeply, but not love. Never love.
Mino wasn’t that. Mino was just a handsome face under the flickering strobe lights that stood out amidst the swaying bodies of a club. Taehyun had been tipsy, Mino was a fucking good dancer. They’d gone home together and shared a rather loud, hardly memorable night and a brief conversation over stale bread and tea the next morning. No specifics. They’d only exchanged first names. Mino had wished him a good life as he was walking out the door; Taehyun found himself sincerely wishing the same for the stranger.
He wasn’t supposed to meet Mino months later at a second-rate art class, and he wasn’t supposed to say yes when Mino had asked him to grab coffee. Taehyun shouldn’t have let him into his apartment the second time, nor should he have allowed him to fuck him again. This time, Taehyun had learned his last name. He also had his breath taken away by a sketch of the lousy view from his apartment balcony on the back of a supermarket receipt because Mino got bored waiting for him to wake up.
It was never going to last, whatever it was they had, Taehyun told Mino weeks after they’d met again, without hesitations the moment he saw something else in Mino’s eyes as they shared a cigarette on that same balcony. They were both struggling artists on the same path. They were much too alike. Mino wasn’t who Taehyun was looking for, not that Taehyun was really looking for anyone at the moment.
The thing is, Mino would never ask for anything more than whatever it was they had – the conversations, the shared silences, the sex, the mutual love for things broken and beautiful.
“The second you don’t want me anymore, I’m gone,” Mino had said with a shrug of his shoulders as the first rays of sunrise peaked over the Han River. He meant it and Taehyun believed him.
And Taehyun supposes that was the first complication. Mino was an easy companion in a world where someone like Taehyun wasn’t easy to like. Mino kept coming back to his doorstep at odd hours and Taehyun always let him in, except for that one time when Mino attempted to bring over a stray kitten he’d picked up on the way. They’d gone to art galleries and more art classes and head banged to the same concerts and hated the same music. They’d been to every dingy diner at three in the morning after many of Mino’s friends’ house parties and Mino would order the oiliest dish on the menu as Taehyun sipped on cheap coffee to chase away the residual faintness. They’d spend entire mornings in bed, wasting away on grandiose plans of sweeping the art world by storm one painting at a time.
Mino wasn’t the first man Taehyun liked. But he was the first to understand Taehyun and his dreams.
The next complication came in the form of Mino’s first love. His great love, he had told Taehyun in one of his drunken stupors, when Taehyun tolerates his loquaciousness more than usual. The man had come back to Seoul after a failed rockstar stint in Japan, and like a jerk on the prowl for an emotional rebound, had wanted Mino back.
Taehyun never wanted to claw someone’s face off more.
Mino laughed and told Taehyun in all honesty that he’d never imagined rejecting Seungyoon in this lifetime. “But I told him to go fuck himself,” Mino said, sprawled on Taehyun’s carpet as he looked up at him with a hint of amusement and maybe yearning in his eyes. Then Mino said something silly like Taehyun’s apartment felt homier or his floor was more comfortable. Taehyun must have been drunk on draft beer or whatever it was that filled his chest at Mino’s words because he gave him his spare key that very night.
He wouldn’t remember a day when Mino hadn’t been in his apartment ever since.
And in between Saturday noir movie nights and adopted cats they name Polly and Pally, splashes of paint on the floor and exhausting side jobs to pay the bills, Taehyun waited.
It was never going to last. Mino was temporary – that much Taehyun was sure of. He was a pit stop on the journey like the others who’d become nameless faces on the way. Mino was different, sure, but soon enough, Taehyun would get sick of him and they would part ways and Taehyun would remember him fondly, maybe.
Mino was never the one.
But Taehyun wasn’t supposed to fall in love. That was the problem.
“Is this what you really want?” Mino had looked at him with rage in his eyes, but something else akin to pleading. Taehyun hates it when Mino begs.
“You promised.”
Mino had laughed, hollow and indignant. “That was when we were just sleeping together.”
Taehyun had raised a brow, feeling like the world was being swept under his feet but keeping up the cold exterior that had been his first line of defense all his life. “What do you think we’re doing now?”
Mino hadn’t answered him and walked out without another word.
And then it was over. Like planned, Taehyun is back on track.
Taehyun puts down the pen and picks Polly up when he purrs against his leg. Things have been hectic and there are many things left to do until the opening of the exhibition. He wants everything to go well after painstakingly snatching a spot in the new gallery in Hongdae. The place is nothing fancy, but it’s gaining traction with a lot of younger, more unprejudiced collectors. A week’s run isn’t much, but it’s all he could afford for now, and if he plays his cards right, could be all he needs.
It would mean having to pull more strings than usual, and Taehyun is fortunate to have made significant acquaintances in the past year, which would have been impossible before. There’s someone else he has to thank for that, he reminds himself as he looks down at the special invite he just signed.
It’s been a month since Taehyun saw him last, when he picked up the remainder of his things from the apartment, including Pally. They hadn’t said much to each other. Mino had given him back the spare key. It seemed final then, until Jinwoo mentioned over dinner that Mino moved back in with Seungyoon.
So that was that.
The truth is it would probably kill Taehyun to see Mino with someone else in any circumstance, because a month isn’t nearly long enough to get over the only man he has ever genuinely fallen for.
But the exhibition wouldn’t even be possible if Mino hadn’t pushed him to really try, to go beyond his boundaries and feel things. Of all Taehyun’s artworks, it’s the ones he created while Mino was breathing down his neck that he’s most proud of.
And he’d like to think that more than anything, they were lovers of art and hopefully, friends.
After all, this is what Taehyun wanted. And that’s all Mino would be to him now.
“How in the world did you manage this turn out?” Jinwoo’s eyes widen as he scans the gallery already filled with hushed chatter.
Taehyun couldn’t respond, likewise baffled. He’d been relying on word of mouth to gather a decent attendance, but he never imagined this crowd. He recognizes some of the regulars at low key art events, but there are more prominent names he didn’t expect to see close to any of his art at this stage. Taehyun had no name, no following, no former exhibits to boast of. But there are dealers, collectors, culture and lifestyle writers, local art patrons and critics alike present in his first exhibition.
Seunghoon, the owner of the gallery, doubling as his curator, gives him a look of pure delight as he ushers more people in.
“I have no idea,” Taehyun says under his breath, lost in between thoughts running out of wine for the guests, and the small round stickers beside his pieces that represent interested buyers. He’d been hoping to sell a painting or two, a second priority to getting his name out and finding a niche for himself in the community. This is just overwhelming.
Taehyun is introduced to the who’s who of the art world, gets his photo taken with several of them, engages in dozens of conversations, and responds to a shower of compliments well into the night. It’s been surreal, seeing his works as the backdrop for intelligent exchanges, and being at the center of a likeminded community Taehyun has always felt he belonged to.
It finally feels like his dreams are attainable, and like Jinwoo had mentioned, Taehyun at the precipice of something great.
And yet all he could think about is how the only person he wants to share this incredible moment with is the one person who didn’t come.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? You haven’t seen Seunghoon dance yet,” Jinwoo squeezes his arm with a hand, while the other is wrapped around Seunghoon’s whose energy hasn’t waned. He’s still smiling at Taehyun, and he wonders if he’s Seunghoon’s favorite person now. That would certainly be an improvement after he almost rejected Taehyun when he was haggling for the gallery space.
It had been an amazing evening for all of them, one that Taehyun would never forget. But he’s exhausted and what he wants to do most is curl up in bed with Polly and catch up on sleep.
“I’m fine,” Taehyun says, giving Jinwoo a smile. They wave at him before they alight Seunghoon’s car and disappear into the corner.
It’s past midnight and the bustling Hongdae has since quieted down, making it perfect for a late night stroll. His body is tired but a little fresh air to clear his thoughts couldn’t hurt before heading home. A few steps later he stops, gaze falling towards a familiar silhouette at the end of the block.
Mino pushes himself off the wall and slowly walks towards him. Taehyun lets out a small gasp when his features are illuminated by a lamplight in the darkness. For all the things Mino is not, he’s still a handsome face in the crowd. And the only person who could make Taehyun’s heart race as much the most beautiful pieces of art.
“You’re late.”
Mino flashes him a lopsided smile, hands tucked inside the pockets of his coat. “You haven’t changed.”
“It’s only been a month.”
“And yet you’re the most talked-about young artist in Seoul tonight. That snooty columnist we hate even tweeted about you,” Mino pulls out his phone from his pocket and grins.
Taehyun stares at Mino for a long while, doesn’t return his smile and just sighs. “It was you.”
Mino’s brows furrow before a look of comprehension passes his face. He looks away, like one of his darkest secrets has been exposed. Mino’s always had it easy with people of all ages and statures in life, but Taehyun can still imagine how difficult it must have been to get all those people to come.
After a stretch of silence Mino looks up again. “You deserve every bit of the attention you’re getting. You’re the most talented person I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have mattered?”
It’s Taehyun’s turn to fall silent, searching Mino’s eyes. Perhaps it wouldn’t. There’s a pang that shoots through his chest before he asks, “How’s Seungyoon? You should have come with him, I sent you both the invite.”
Mino is unfazed as he shrugs. “He’s doing great actually. It was hard to bring him along given the fact that he’s in Beijing with his boyfriend. But I’m sure he sends his congratulations.”
Taehyun feels himself blanch at the words. He rolls his eyes when Mino’s lips twitch by a fraction. He’s still an asshole. Taehyun suppresses a smile despite himself.
“Why bother coming if you’re going to arrive so late?”
“I was on time, I just didn’t show myself. I saw you, though. You were a pro out there.”
Taehyun takes a step closer, feeling somewhat wronged. He keeps up his upset face, but it feels strange to be within this proximity to Mino again. “You’re such an idiot, I swear to god.”
“You didn’t need the distraction.”
“I suppose you just assume my whole world stops when you walk into a room?”
Mino chuckles, and like a habit, raises a hand to brush some of the hair strands that fall over Taehyun’s forehead. It’s one of those silly little things Taehyun pretends to be annoyed with, but this time he basks in the gesture, and closes his eyes when a thumb grazes over the skin of his cheek.
Mino lets out a sigh. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
When Taehyun opens his eyes, Mino is close enough to kiss. And when Mino attempts to pull away, Taehyun is swift to tug on the edges of his coat to keep him in place. Mino flashes him a genuinely curious look, too cautious that it breaks Taehyun’s heart.
“Don’t do this if you’re going to push me away again,” Mino says, his voice more pained than angry. “I’m not here for a quick fuck.”
“I know that,” Taehyun starts to say, fingers clutched around Mino’s coat tightly. He’s never felt the impulse to hold on to anything he’d stake his life on it, much less anyone. But the thought of Mino pulling back once more scares the shit out of him. “I... want more. I want all of it,” he says, voice unstable. “You. I want you.”
Mino looks stunned it’s almost adorable if Taehyun isn’t so consumed with nerves. He’s shaking now, from the cold breeze and something else entirely. He hasn’t confessed to anyone in his life. And perhaps he hasn’t been more honest with himself than he is at this moment.
“What about your plans?”
“I planned to serve wine and suck up to fifteen people tonight,” Taehyun says quietly. “But sometimes life surprises you with more than what you planned for, more than what you deserve. You ruined everything. Now I couldn’t imagine a future without you in it.”
Mino is frozen for the longest time and Taehyun feels scared again that he’s going to walk away. Perhaps it’s too late. Maybe he’d shattered Mino to the point that not even honesty can repair.
Taehyun braces himself for the worst, until Mino speaks again.
“Sorry, I had to take that in. I don’t think I’ll ever hear those words from you ever again, so.”
“What?”
“Jesus, Taehyun. If you have to ask, then maybe you really don’t deserve me.”
“Shut up,” Taehyun scoffs before snaking two arms around Mino’s waist and hauling him close. He doesn’t tell him anything more, but they kiss like they hadn’t kissed in a month, slow and deliberate, intense and packed with words Taehyun needn’t say.
Because despite the seemingly mundane things Mino does that Taehyun shouldn’t even miss, Mino is in every way, extraordinary. And perhaps he changed something in Taehyun when he walked into his life unplanned.
After Mino, Taehyun couldn’t possibly settle for anything less than love.