나를 잊지 말아요 2/?

Sep 20, 2010 03:10

Title: Do Not Forget Me
Pairings: 2Min (eventually), broken! MinKhun
Author: gogothgirl
Disclaimer: I disclaim with a tearful tantrum. T__T
Summary: He didn’t count on Key actually throwing the book at him, though.

(Don't forget the bits and pieces
Even when I am not around
Don't forget)
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Music filled Minho’s head from the moment he woke up in bed and all through the school day as he sat in class, hearing but not listening to what his teachers said from behind the great big mahogany desk that had one too many carved doodles and messages from graduated seniors. The soft melody that he heard in the attic was stuck on replay and he found that in some ways, he’s calmer now. Like he’s seeing things in a new light, like he had never seen them before.

Now he can see the little glances Junhyun gives to Jessica who would smile in that soft, secret way that girls do when they know something, all light pink blushes and pretty hair waving in the breeze that made them look a little like angels.

Now he can see the way that Sunny moves, gracefully and precise as she reads from the Shakespeare novel that the class is supposed to be studying for literature class and he sees that when she smiles, it kinda made all the sense in the world that her name is Sunny cause its bright and beautiful and warm.

Now he can see how Onew-hyung’s eyes sharpened and glittered and danced the moment he had his physics book opened and one hand flying over the calculator while the other drew up formulas and diagrams on the exercise sheet whenever they studied together in the library.

And he’s surprised that he can now see how Key would lose his rough edges and sharp tongue and a little less diva while his eyes grow that much warmer and kinder and his smile becomes sweeter and motherly whenever Minho stumbles into the classroom in a flurry of uniforms and unlaced shoes and missing homeworks. He still tends to hit him, though.

So it didn’t come as a surprise when he decided to cut History to climb the stairs of the school attic and kind of wishing that the kid he saw a few days back would be there with his broken-but-not-really music box which melody makes him think of wonderful things about his friends and family and himself.

Minho thinks that it makes him think of nice things about the boy, too.

“Minho-hyung~”

A smile as bright as Sunny’s and as soft as Jessica’s but also just as sweet as Key’s greeted him the moment he pushed the old creaky door opened.

“Taemin.”

--

Taemin never asked about the ring on Minho’s finger whenever they hung out together in the school attic where it was warm and kinda toasty but also reminds each of them of childhood afternoons playing hide and seek and hiding in the playhouse at the park.

Minho would be doing his homework or just reading a book while Taemin would always be fiddling with screwdrivers and springs and getting his eyes all squinted trying to see which part goes where in the music box that isn’t really broken but sort of is. His hair would always fall in his face and he would huff, blowing them back into place but only to fall again and annoy the maknae till he pout. Then Minho would just chuckle and daringly tied the boy’s hair back, pins the ones in front and pinched his cheeks cause Taemin’s just that adorable.

… well he hasn’t exactly done that. But he wanted to.

They don’t talk much, either. Each of them understands that the value of silence is far greater than talking and hearing each of their voices because they both have had enough of the crowd below with the chattering and the noise and now they just want to be. Minho and Taemin have a gift of knowing what the other wants, so it makes things easier for them to maintain the silence.

A glance from Taemin’s big brown eyes coupled with a pout, Minho-hyung I’m not sure where this gear goes.

A raised eyebrow from Minho with a small smile on his lips, Silly Taemin…you need to move that one to fit the other one in.

A giggle. Minho-hyung, you have a leaf in your hair. Did you jump in your uniforms again?

A snort. And your pants’ knees are worn. Did you dance in your uniforms again?

A stare, filled with curiosity and apprehension. You’re never going to tell me what that ring means, are you?

A sigh, a shake of the head and obvious dismissal. No, not yet.

But sometimes Minho feels like Taemin already knows.

--

Minho lay on the thick old mattress, staring at the blue sky and wondering perhaps if he jumps high enough he might see heaven or maybe even hear a sound or two from the sky that would bring back memories of afternoons singing in the choir room with the piano or dancing in sync but in opposites while everyone else watches and laughs and just be loud. Or maybe he can hear that one laughter that always comes with twinkling brown eyes and beautiful pale skin and light brown hair that shines under the sun but glows under the moon.

“Minho-ah, you’re so pretty when you laugh.”

… but Nichkhun was always the beautiful one.

A loud thump and a grunt woke Minho from his reverie, eyes blinking rapidly as he rubbed his cheek on the mattress to dry the wetness that trailed from the brown orbs. Turning his head to the left, he grinned as he watched Taemin breathed erratically with his hair a right mess and his tie streaked across his left eye and his right shut tight.

“You really have no athletic abilities, Taemin-ah.” Minho grinned, leaning over Taemin with his elbow supporting his weight. The mattress dipped just so and if he tries really hard, Minho could have sworn that he saw Taemin lying on a puffy, white cloud instead of a worn out dark red high jump mattress. The younger boy’s hair splayed across the mattress and tickled Minho’s elbow, the scent of it encasing him as the much colder, autumn air blew around them.

“Of course I do.” Taemin huffed indignantly as he tried to slow his uneven breathing, lips in a pinkish hue and an unmistakable pout as he bored into Minho’s eyes. “I dance, remember? And dancing is not the same as high jumping, hyung.” He gave Minho a ‘so there’ look and shifted his eyes to the sky, blue reflected beautifully on deep brown.

Minho found that he just couldn’t look away.

Sounds of leaves rustling around them and the smell of autumn soothed their senses as everything else faded into the background and there wasn’t anything or anyone that mattered except each other. Minho studied Taemin’s face as the maknae dozed off in the gently breeze, his breaths coming out evenly and lips parted slightly.

Laying sideways slowly on his arm, Minho stared at the contours of Taemin’s face, noting the ridges of his nose and how it curved gently, forming the top of his cupid’s bow and then the slight ridge between the parted lips, and how the end curved upwards in a miniature smile even in his sleep. Minho laid on the mattress, transfixed at how all those curves and all those lines softened by the sunlight, making Taemin’s face a pale English rose on a background of golden Korean autumn.

“Minho-hyung,” the whisper came as softly as the breeze caressing the two boys, fleeting and gentle, invisible but there. “Can you see heaven? When you jump… can you see heaven?”

Minho’s eyes widened a fraction and he chuckled, a finger absent mindedly played with a strand of Taemin’s dark golden hair. “Of course not, Taemin. I’ll admit that I’m pretty good at high jumping, but seeing heaven while I’m soaring is just… pushing it.”

“Oh,” Taemin’s forehead creased slightly while his eyes are kept shut, face serene and perfectly soaked in the warm autumn colors. “I suppose you weren’t meant to see it then. Not yet anyway.”

Minho twitched, the hand playing with Taemin’s hair strayed down to the boy’s nose and pinched hard while the freshman protested and wiggled to get away. “Repeat that for me, please.”

“Well its true~” Taemin insisted, his voice nasal but eyes still that warm shade of brown as he gently grabbed Minho’s assaulting hand.

“If you can’t see it, then maybe it’s not time yet. Or maybe it’s one of those things that you can’t see but you can feel.”

Minho’s hand dropped to cup the side of Taemin’s face as the latter leaned into the touch, silence engulfing the two of them as they stared at one another, hair creating halos and sunlight making them golden. And Minho wondered, he wondered if Taemin has someone up in heaven who he wants to hear or see or even touch but couldn’t because heaven is something that’s not within his reach and may never will be no matter how fast he run or how high he jumps or how many hours of practice he’s had or how hard he clings to his memories or-

So Minho kissed Taemin and told himself that it’s not selfish at all.

But Onew’s right.

He’s not a very good liar.

----

Exams creeping up on me, my darlings. =__= iunno when am i ever gonna finish this despite having a freakin mindmap of this fic planned out in my notebook. gah. Fear not. It SHALL BE COMPLETED! >:D by the way, in case you're wondering, i find Winter Sonata's soundtrack as my muse for this fic here. -sigh- its just so... calm, ya know? 

do not forget me, jonghyun, nichkhun, slash, 2pm, key, shinee, taemin, minho

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