(no subject)
Loud (repost)
Pairing: Kibum/Taemin, slight Taemin/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Two teenagers - one struggling to fit in, the other finding his own way.
Taemin met Key when he was fifteen.
He was on his way home, wearing fashionable loose jeans and worn sneakers, head bent, counting the cracks in the pavement while clutching the strap of his messenger bag. His thoughts were flying somewhere above him and Taemin was tempted to throw away all his composure with the heavy schoolbooks and run to the park near his house.
At that point, after a day of chuckling at stories that didn’t amuse him, swallowing down his own opinions in order to nod and agree with everything the popular people said, Taemin was tired.
He would’ve given all the cartoons and lazy mornings and homework-free days to turn back time, if only for a bit, so he wouldn’t have to worry about his “image”, feel the need to impress his friends and face the risk of being uncool.
Oh, how he wished he could sit on a swing set for a while, maybe climb a tree and then eat a strawberry sundae, read a book with dragons and magic and a happy ending.
But he couldn’t, because he was too old.
He was a teenager; it was time for him to brag about getting to second base with girls he really didn’t care for. Taemin was supposed to be curious about cigarettes and pretend to like the bitter taste of alcohol, enjoy the vulnerability it brought.
Childish activities like copying the moves in music videos, drinking banana milk until he was laughing uncontrollably, high on sugar and immature jokes, playing stupid little games and doing unexplainable, random things - just because…
Just because he felt like it, was a bad idea, now.
Like everyone else, he had to grow up and out of his old habits. Boys his age didn’t read manhwa, no, they were busy watching their first porn movies. They coughed and cursed loudly, using powerful-sounding words Taemin didn’t really know the meaning of when their voices broke, turning into embarrassing squeaks.
Like everyone else, he wanted to be a rebel, a special snowflake in the middle of a snowstorm.
But then, suddenly, like thunder on a sunny day, a boy, barely two years older than him, was simply standing there by the road as if this was the only place in the world he wanted to be, calm and cool like he had it all figured out.
Key didn’t seem to be afraid of anything and anyone, eyeing the passer-by’s challengingly with his hands deep in the pockets of his low-riding jeans. He was the definition of everything Taemin’s classmates and friends wanted to be and Taemin was more than intrigued, slowing in his tracks with a childlike curiosity.
If Taemin ever had to describe Key, he’d use a single word: loud.
Everything about him was loud - his voice, always a bit too emotional, demanding attention wherever he was; his eyes, sharp, almost judging, flashing with a rare kind of confidence, cheekbones high and jaw strong. They were dressed similarly back then, like the actors from 90’s cheesy teen dramas with overly large and awkward-fitting jackets over graphic T-shirts.
It was the air, the don’t-mess-with-me aura around him that drew Taemin in.
“Um… Do you smoke?” Taemin blurted out, the amazement and respect in his eyes unhidden. As much as he knew about the cool things the cool kids did, smoking was a must.
Key, though, only shot him an appalled look, hunching his shoulders to appear more nonchalant and standoffish. “I don’t,” he drawled out, much to Taemin’s surprise. “I’m an aspiring rapper, smoking would be idiotic for me. I don’t see the real point in sucking on a cancer stick, anyway. I have better things to do with my time.”
Taken aback by the guy’s words, and fascinated by them, because - hey, rapping was way cooler than smoking, Taemin racked his brain for something good to say, something equally as cool.
With Key by his side, he would easily be accepted into the popular group, Taemin thought.
“Umm,” his cheeks flushed as Key raised an eyebrow - coolly - and the younger boy wished all his friends could see him talking to a real rapper, even if he did stumble over his words and end up making a fool out of himself, “Yeah, smoking is so totally lame… Er, I don’t understand why people do it, either…”
Key snorted and rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue with disapproval.
“It’s like- pointless, yeah. Ah- and one of my classmates knows this one rapper that’s quite famous already, it’s way cool, I’m sure you’ve heard of him-“
“Kid, yeah, yeah. Just shut up already. Stop it, you’re trying way too hard, it’s disgusting,” the rapper said, cutting into his little rant loudly, pointedly, to ridicule Taemin even further. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, he turned on his heel to walk out of Taemin’s life with a swagger in his steps.
-
The next time they met, Taemin was living the life, no longer dreaming of his past carelessness and choosing to bury the memories of his rather pleasant and fun-filled childhood under a heavy alcoholic daze.
He was sixteen then, making up problems and fights with his parents to complain about them with his less than real friends, a fake ID shoved into his back pocket.
Taemin was at a club where bright lights pierced through the darkness and the air was heavy, pounding with the music when he saw Key again.
He had been holed up in a booth, accompanied by half a dozen of teens his age, booming with laughter as they leered on the girls by the bar, but when a ray of light glided over bow-shaped lips, darkly outlined eyes and a face achingly familiar, Taemin dove into the crowd, too aware that his friends wouldn’t notice him gone anyway.
“Hey!” Taemin shouted to be heard over the music, a lump in his throat as the man - the rapper who didn’t smoke, regarded him coldly.
“What’s your name?” he asked, leaning closer.
A sinking feeling settled in his stomach at the thought of the man, who had left such an impression on him, who had influenced Taemin in ways he couldn’t even imagine, not even recognizing him. But Taemin forced the discomfort to dissolve, assured that this time, he was one of the cool guys, this time, he wasn’t a random wannabe the man could dismiss with a flick of his wrist and a dirty look.
“I’m Key.”
The rapper’s voice was lower than Taemin remembered - and Taemin remembered every second of their brief interaction, because the words Key had so carelessly dropped had haunted the boy for all this time.
He had also gotten louder. Key had developed his own personal style: his hair was straightened and dyed light blond, mouth glistening with gloss. He was no longer wearing the standard street style. Instead, he was donning a pair of neon pink skinnies, the newest trend, clinging to his legs, coupled off with a large striped shirt falling off his shoulders.
Make way, look at me, everything about him screamed and Taemin was still attracted to him like a moth to a flame. He was like a cool breeze on a hot day, he had that spark everyone craved but people rarely had.
“I’m Taemin,” he introduced himself, hands clammy, barely resisting the urge to gnaw on his lips to suppress the nervousness. Key was disinterested, scanning the mass of people absentmindedly before his eyes widened and a flicker of something incomprehensible passed through the enchanting orbs.
“Aren’t you-“ the man stopped himself, frowning down at the floor before clearing his throat and motioning towards the drink Taemin was holding. “Aren’t you too young to drink?”
Misreading the question as a chance to have a proper conversation with the mysterious Key, Taemin smirked suggestively, turning on his bad boy act.
“Doesn’t stop me.”
But before he realized those had been the wrong words to say, Key had whirled around, disappearing into the jungle of moving bodies with a snappy “I don’t associate with minors.”
Taemin wanted to sweat drop like a an anime character and hit his head against the closest wall, because he’d been so close. So close to proving Key wrong, so close to showing him that he wasn’t trying too hard, that this was the real him.
Or was it?
-
The third time Taemin met Key took place two months later and a day after Taemin lost his virginity. He didn’t really like the girl, but his friends had approved of her, even going as far as to call her smoking hot. She was nice-looking, definitely, and had a nice, soft body with curves in all the right places.
But that was it - she was nice.
There had been lots of awkward fumbling, as the girl expected him to do all the work and despite all the porn he had watched, Taemin hadn’t had a clue about what to do with his hands, about what was okay, what wasn’t. To his friends, Taemin had described the experience in superlatives, naturally, but in reality it had been rather unsatisfying.
A part of him was disappointed, really, though he should’ve known that everything looks better on the widescreen. The girl had offered to help him practice, batting her fake eyelashes coyly. But seeing her lipstick-stained teeth, her naked body slick with perspiration, the sheets they had dirtied, the sight nauseated Taemin and he left as quickly as possible.
It felt like a part of him had died, and for the time being, coolness, impressing someone, didn’t matter.
Taemin had escaped the eyebrow-wiggles, the friendly punches and mocking congratulatory words, finding himself on a park bench, watching people pass with a blank, empty gaze.
When Key came strolling, holding a paper bag full of groceries, looking as apathetic and perfect as ever, all Taemin wanted to do was to melt into the greying wood, clasping his hands and letting his bangs fall over his eyes.
But fate felt like playing a trick on him and neon high-tops entered his line of vision.
“Your name was Taemin, yeah?” a voice inquired, too loud for Taemin’s liking at the moment and the boy didn’t miss the tinge of softness in it. “We met at the club?”
“Oh, hi,” Taemin looked up, as if he hadn’t noticed the man at all, the sheer brightness of Key nearly blinding him. The man looked frustratingly confident again in his beanie and over-sized sunglasses, wearing a large cosy hoodie with black skin tight jeans. “’Sup.”
Taemin was almost seventeen the first time Key smiled at him, all dimples and flawless teeth and all of a sudden, the reason for his sullenness was wiped out of the teen’s head.
To his luck, Key didn’t comment on anything this time, instead asking Taemin to walk with him if he had a moment, which Taemin did, since his spirits had been lifted.
They were painfully awkward at first, Taemin’s hands stiffly at sides, butterflies tying his insides into knots. In his mind, he begged Key to break the silence, not even contemplating about doing it himself. In a way, Taemin felt like he deserved to sit back and let the other one take charge, since his attempts to befriend the man had been shot down.
“So…” Key finally decided to put them both out of their misery, staring at a little collared dog running from its owner, yapping distractingly. “I see you- you gave up now?”
“Gave up, hm?”
“Yeah. I mean like. You’re done trying to be something you’re not?”
It hit Taemin like a ton of bricks - what separated him from Key, why he couldn’t be as laid back as the rapper, why Key was so unreachable, set up high on a pedestal Taemin just couldn’t reach - it was all because he was fighting for the wrong cause, going completely in the wrong direction.
It was so easy to get caught in the struggle for popularity and to get dazzled by the glitter, the admiring eyes. But it was all too much for Taemin, he couldn’t fully suppress his individuality and now he was just exhausted from wearing masks.
With a bitter smile, Taemin bid that part of his life goodbye, strangely not intimidated by Key anymore.
“Yeah.“
“Well, don’t take it too hard,” the encouraging tilt of Key’s lips didn’t match the worried glances he kept stealing at the boy beside him. Though it was the third time they had met, Taemin felt more comfortable with Key than with any of his so-called friends.
“We all have to go through the whole finding yourself process. I’d say you got through it quite well, actually, and-”
“Did you?”
Raising his eyebrows, Key made the mistake of turning to look at Taemin fully, the teen’s serious expression bringing his defences down and bringing waves of nostalgia crashing over him. He clutched the groceries, showing Taemin a teasing smirk.
“No, I always knew who I was,” he declared in a light tone, making it obvious that he was only joking. “You’re different, though.”
After receiving a stare burning with questions, Key continued, focusing on the nature around them to contain the blush threatening to dust his cheeks bright pink, “Well… I guess you could say that I’ve seen you around. I mean, one of my friends goes to your school so - uh, yeah. And, I dunno, we talked about this - with that friend I mean, that, like, about how people shouldn’t try to fit in so much, because- um. It’s stupid, you know? I mean, don’t you think you’d like it more if people… People liked you for you? I dunno if you get what I mean, but anyway, I saw you a few times and, like, my friend said that you looked sad, kind of, like, distant - oh, by the way - I should totally introduce you two, and- and then you just walked up to me, trying to please, and. You just, were, like, hm, uncorrupted? Yeah. Uncorrupted. But you wanted to please everyone so hard that you just pissed me off real bad and-“
Taemin burst out laughing at this point, interrupting Key’s rant, but the elder was determined to get his point across. Even though the tips of his ears were flaming and Taemin was exploding with giddiness next to him, Key didn’t falter.
“And, um, Sunyoung, do you know her? She goes to your school and stuff… Anyway, she’s a friend of this rapper, Amber, who’s like, real cool - remind me to introduce you. Well, she’s awfully sweet and hangs out with us sometimes and, well, she said that you had auditioned to something - don’t judge us for talking about people, by the way - and that you could dance, but quit because people would think you were gay or something and then - you know, no, actually, do you remember? At the club? It just seemed like such a waste. That you were getting drunk while you could be, you know, more than that. And, uh, it just sucked really bad and stuff, um, like… Yeah.”
Key took a deep breath, fanning himself with his right hand and Taemin’s cheeks hurt from smiling too much.
He was speechless.
The independence and boldness Taemin had been so taken by the first time they had met was still visible in Key’s features, the teen noted as the rapper removed his shades. Had Key been in a similar spot two years ago, Taemin wondered, fingers itching to trace that firm jawline.
Had he fallen off the rollercoaster of puberty by then?
“Is it stupid,” Key asked, the silence that had felt so comfortable to Taemin suffocating him, “that I feel like I understand you? Like… I know you? Get what I mean?”
Taemin did, eyes crinkling into half-moon shaped crescents as he looked at Key fondly, wordless messages passing between them. To think that the person he unconsciously pined after a whole year had been quietly watching over him from the sidelines, worrying and rooting for him...
It happened so quickly that Taemin barely knew what was going on. It was unexpected and spontaneous, but he felt so emotionally close to Key, not even touching him, just walking side by side as equals, as two confused teens who will somehow make it.
Dodging a small rubber ball a kid had accidentally thrown in his direction, he thought that if this was a dream, he refused to wake up.
The sun was up high and Taemin felt free, like he had turned a new leaf, like his friends, all their bad influence, all the less than pleasurable things he had done to get people’s positive attention, it was all behind him.
Key was just as loud as Taemin imagined, walking into the boy’s life with a bang and making it clear that he wasn’t planning on leaving.
-
Taemin had his first real love when he was seventeen. He flipped his life around, Key’s company helping him ignore the icy eyes of the people who were still trapped in Facebook statuses, endless parties and gossip, barely floating in an ocean of envy.
But Taemin had matured. He realized that there would always be people who hated those, who dared to be different and not in the rebellious let’s-get-wasted-way which turned humans into thoughtless clones living only to party, but who had the guts to find their own happiness.
Like he had once looked at the misfits from afar, wishing he had the courage to step out of the crowd, he was now glared at with poorly hidden jealousy.
Key had turned up his volume, not afraid of the consequences, stomping his feet and nagging at the top of his lungs until he got the permission to dye Taemin’s hair red and sign the boy up for a dance contest.
He had practically dragged Taemin out of the closet, right into his waiting arms.
Even the sound of him breathing was deafeningly loud to Taemin, but the teen liked it, because it was so easy to mute the rest of the world when Key was close.
And not long after did Taemin find out that Key could actually be quiet and still sometimes, lying next to him with white sheets pooling around his waist.
The man was twenty, then, spent from hours of leaving his fingerprints all over Taemin’s body. Taemin considered it his first time, though he never really forgot that girl, thankful for she had unknowingly helped him realize how out of place he was.
Yawning, he shifted closer to his sleeping lover, trying to count Key’s eyelashes,
muffling his giggles while reminiscing about how they first met.
“Hush,” Key said, voice rough, arm heavy and warm around Taemin’s waist.
It was all Key’s fault, was Taemin’s last thought before snuggling as close as possible and falling into a deep slumber.
All Key’s fault for being so goddamn loud all the time.
a/n: because i find troubled teenagers funny. yep. tippa wanted this back up so go tippa.
Pairing: Kibum/Taemin, slight Taemin/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Two teenagers - one struggling to fit in, the other finding his own way.
Taemin met Key when he was fifteen.
He was on his way home, wearing fashionable loose jeans and worn sneakers, head bent, counting the cracks in the pavement while clutching the strap of his messenger bag. His thoughts were flying somewhere above him and Taemin was tempted to throw away all his composure with the heavy schoolbooks and run to the park near his house.
At that point, after a day of chuckling at stories that didn’t amuse him, swallowing down his own opinions in order to nod and agree with everything the popular people said, Taemin was tired.
He would’ve given all the cartoons and lazy mornings and homework-free days to turn back time, if only for a bit, so he wouldn’t have to worry about his “image”, feel the need to impress his friends and face the risk of being uncool.
Oh, how he wished he could sit on a swing set for a while, maybe climb a tree and then eat a strawberry sundae, read a book with dragons and magic and a happy ending.
But he couldn’t, because he was too old.
He was a teenager; it was time for him to brag about getting to second base with girls he really didn’t care for. Taemin was supposed to be curious about cigarettes and pretend to like the bitter taste of alcohol, enjoy the vulnerability it brought.
Childish activities like copying the moves in music videos, drinking banana milk until he was laughing uncontrollably, high on sugar and immature jokes, playing stupid little games and doing unexplainable, random things - just because…
Just because he felt like it, was a bad idea, now.
Like everyone else, he had to grow up and out of his old habits. Boys his age didn’t read manhwa, no, they were busy watching their first porn movies. They coughed and cursed loudly, using powerful-sounding words Taemin didn’t really know the meaning of when their voices broke, turning into embarrassing squeaks.
Like everyone else, he wanted to be a rebel, a special snowflake in the middle of a snowstorm.
But then, suddenly, like thunder on a sunny day, a boy, barely two years older than him, was simply standing there by the road as if this was the only place in the world he wanted to be, calm and cool like he had it all figured out.
Key didn’t seem to be afraid of anything and anyone, eyeing the passer-by’s challengingly with his hands deep in the pockets of his low-riding jeans. He was the definition of everything Taemin’s classmates and friends wanted to be and Taemin was more than intrigued, slowing in his tracks with a childlike curiosity.
If Taemin ever had to describe Key, he’d use a single word: loud.
Everything about him was loud - his voice, always a bit too emotional, demanding attention wherever he was; his eyes, sharp, almost judging, flashing with a rare kind of confidence, cheekbones high and jaw strong. They were dressed similarly back then, like the actors from 90’s cheesy teen dramas with overly large and awkward-fitting jackets over graphic T-shirts.
It was the air, the don’t-mess-with-me aura around him that drew Taemin in.
“Um… Do you smoke?” Taemin blurted out, the amazement and respect in his eyes unhidden. As much as he knew about the cool things the cool kids did, smoking was a must.
Key, though, only shot him an appalled look, hunching his shoulders to appear more nonchalant and standoffish. “I don’t,” he drawled out, much to Taemin’s surprise. “I’m an aspiring rapper, smoking would be idiotic for me. I don’t see the real point in sucking on a cancer stick, anyway. I have better things to do with my time.”
Taken aback by the guy’s words, and fascinated by them, because - hey, rapping was way cooler than smoking, Taemin racked his brain for something good to say, something equally as cool.
With Key by his side, he would easily be accepted into the popular group, Taemin thought.
“Umm,” his cheeks flushed as Key raised an eyebrow - coolly - and the younger boy wished all his friends could see him talking to a real rapper, even if he did stumble over his words and end up making a fool out of himself, “Yeah, smoking is so totally lame… Er, I don’t understand why people do it, either…”
Key snorted and rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue with disapproval.
“It’s like- pointless, yeah. Ah- and one of my classmates knows this one rapper that’s quite famous already, it’s way cool, I’m sure you’ve heard of him-“
“Kid, yeah, yeah. Just shut up already. Stop it, you’re trying way too hard, it’s disgusting,” the rapper said, cutting into his little rant loudly, pointedly, to ridicule Taemin even further. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, he turned on his heel to walk out of Taemin’s life with a swagger in his steps.
-
The next time they met, Taemin was living the life, no longer dreaming of his past carelessness and choosing to bury the memories of his rather pleasant and fun-filled childhood under a heavy alcoholic daze.
He was sixteen then, making up problems and fights with his parents to complain about them with his less than real friends, a fake ID shoved into his back pocket.
Taemin was at a club where bright lights pierced through the darkness and the air was heavy, pounding with the music when he saw Key again.
He had been holed up in a booth, accompanied by half a dozen of teens his age, booming with laughter as they leered on the girls by the bar, but when a ray of light glided over bow-shaped lips, darkly outlined eyes and a face achingly familiar, Taemin dove into the crowd, too aware that his friends wouldn’t notice him gone anyway.
“Hey!” Taemin shouted to be heard over the music, a lump in his throat as the man - the rapper who didn’t smoke, regarded him coldly.
“What’s your name?” he asked, leaning closer.
A sinking feeling settled in his stomach at the thought of the man, who had left such an impression on him, who had influenced Taemin in ways he couldn’t even imagine, not even recognizing him. But Taemin forced the discomfort to dissolve, assured that this time, he was one of the cool guys, this time, he wasn’t a random wannabe the man could dismiss with a flick of his wrist and a dirty look.
“I’m Key.”
The rapper’s voice was lower than Taemin remembered - and Taemin remembered every second of their brief interaction, because the words Key had so carelessly dropped had haunted the boy for all this time.
He had also gotten louder. Key had developed his own personal style: his hair was straightened and dyed light blond, mouth glistening with gloss. He was no longer wearing the standard street style. Instead, he was donning a pair of neon pink skinnies, the newest trend, clinging to his legs, coupled off with a large striped shirt falling off his shoulders.
Make way, look at me, everything about him screamed and Taemin was still attracted to him like a moth to a flame. He was like a cool breeze on a hot day, he had that spark everyone craved but people rarely had.
“I’m Taemin,” he introduced himself, hands clammy, barely resisting the urge to gnaw on his lips to suppress the nervousness. Key was disinterested, scanning the mass of people absentmindedly before his eyes widened and a flicker of something incomprehensible passed through the enchanting orbs.
“Aren’t you-“ the man stopped himself, frowning down at the floor before clearing his throat and motioning towards the drink Taemin was holding. “Aren’t you too young to drink?”
Misreading the question as a chance to have a proper conversation with the mysterious Key, Taemin smirked suggestively, turning on his bad boy act.
“Doesn’t stop me.”
But before he realized those had been the wrong words to say, Key had whirled around, disappearing into the jungle of moving bodies with a snappy “I don’t associate with minors.”
Taemin wanted to sweat drop like a an anime character and hit his head against the closest wall, because he’d been so close. So close to proving Key wrong, so close to showing him that he wasn’t trying too hard, that this was the real him.
Or was it?
-
The third time Taemin met Key took place two months later and a day after Taemin lost his virginity. He didn’t really like the girl, but his friends had approved of her, even going as far as to call her smoking hot. She was nice-looking, definitely, and had a nice, soft body with curves in all the right places.
But that was it - she was nice.
There had been lots of awkward fumbling, as the girl expected him to do all the work and despite all the porn he had watched, Taemin hadn’t had a clue about what to do with his hands, about what was okay, what wasn’t. To his friends, Taemin had described the experience in superlatives, naturally, but in reality it had been rather unsatisfying.
A part of him was disappointed, really, though he should’ve known that everything looks better on the widescreen. The girl had offered to help him practice, batting her fake eyelashes coyly. But seeing her lipstick-stained teeth, her naked body slick with perspiration, the sheets they had dirtied, the sight nauseated Taemin and he left as quickly as possible.
It felt like a part of him had died, and for the time being, coolness, impressing someone, didn’t matter.
Taemin had escaped the eyebrow-wiggles, the friendly punches and mocking congratulatory words, finding himself on a park bench, watching people pass with a blank, empty gaze.
When Key came strolling, holding a paper bag full of groceries, looking as apathetic and perfect as ever, all Taemin wanted to do was to melt into the greying wood, clasping his hands and letting his bangs fall over his eyes.
But fate felt like playing a trick on him and neon high-tops entered his line of vision.
“Your name was Taemin, yeah?” a voice inquired, too loud for Taemin’s liking at the moment and the boy didn’t miss the tinge of softness in it. “We met at the club?”
“Oh, hi,” Taemin looked up, as if he hadn’t noticed the man at all, the sheer brightness of Key nearly blinding him. The man looked frustratingly confident again in his beanie and over-sized sunglasses, wearing a large cosy hoodie with black skin tight jeans. “’Sup.”
Taemin was almost seventeen the first time Key smiled at him, all dimples and flawless teeth and all of a sudden, the reason for his sullenness was wiped out of the teen’s head.
To his luck, Key didn’t comment on anything this time, instead asking Taemin to walk with him if he had a moment, which Taemin did, since his spirits had been lifted.
They were painfully awkward at first, Taemin’s hands stiffly at sides, butterflies tying his insides into knots. In his mind, he begged Key to break the silence, not even contemplating about doing it himself. In a way, Taemin felt like he deserved to sit back and let the other one take charge, since his attempts to befriend the man had been shot down.
“So…” Key finally decided to put them both out of their misery, staring at a little collared dog running from its owner, yapping distractingly. “I see you- you gave up now?”
“Gave up, hm?”
“Yeah. I mean like. You’re done trying to be something you’re not?”
It hit Taemin like a ton of bricks - what separated him from Key, why he couldn’t be as laid back as the rapper, why Key was so unreachable, set up high on a pedestal Taemin just couldn’t reach - it was all because he was fighting for the wrong cause, going completely in the wrong direction.
It was so easy to get caught in the struggle for popularity and to get dazzled by the glitter, the admiring eyes. But it was all too much for Taemin, he couldn’t fully suppress his individuality and now he was just exhausted from wearing masks.
With a bitter smile, Taemin bid that part of his life goodbye, strangely not intimidated by Key anymore.
“Yeah.“
“Well, don’t take it too hard,” the encouraging tilt of Key’s lips didn’t match the worried glances he kept stealing at the boy beside him. Though it was the third time they had met, Taemin felt more comfortable with Key than with any of his so-called friends.
“We all have to go through the whole finding yourself process. I’d say you got through it quite well, actually, and-”
“Did you?”
Raising his eyebrows, Key made the mistake of turning to look at Taemin fully, the teen’s serious expression bringing his defences down and bringing waves of nostalgia crashing over him. He clutched the groceries, showing Taemin a teasing smirk.
“No, I always knew who I was,” he declared in a light tone, making it obvious that he was only joking. “You’re different, though.”
After receiving a stare burning with questions, Key continued, focusing on the nature around them to contain the blush threatening to dust his cheeks bright pink, “Well… I guess you could say that I’ve seen you around. I mean, one of my friends goes to your school so - uh, yeah. And, I dunno, we talked about this - with that friend I mean, that, like, about how people shouldn’t try to fit in so much, because- um. It’s stupid, you know? I mean, don’t you think you’d like it more if people… People liked you for you? I dunno if you get what I mean, but anyway, I saw you a few times and, like, my friend said that you looked sad, kind of, like, distant - oh, by the way - I should totally introduce you two, and- and then you just walked up to me, trying to please, and. You just, were, like, hm, uncorrupted? Yeah. Uncorrupted. But you wanted to please everyone so hard that you just pissed me off real bad and-“
Taemin burst out laughing at this point, interrupting Key’s rant, but the elder was determined to get his point across. Even though the tips of his ears were flaming and Taemin was exploding with giddiness next to him, Key didn’t falter.
“And, um, Sunyoung, do you know her? She goes to your school and stuff… Anyway, she’s a friend of this rapper, Amber, who’s like, real cool - remind me to introduce you. Well, she’s awfully sweet and hangs out with us sometimes and, well, she said that you had auditioned to something - don’t judge us for talking about people, by the way - and that you could dance, but quit because people would think you were gay or something and then - you know, no, actually, do you remember? At the club? It just seemed like such a waste. That you were getting drunk while you could be, you know, more than that. And, uh, it just sucked really bad and stuff, um, like… Yeah.”
Key took a deep breath, fanning himself with his right hand and Taemin’s cheeks hurt from smiling too much.
He was speechless.
The independence and boldness Taemin had been so taken by the first time they had met was still visible in Key’s features, the teen noted as the rapper removed his shades. Had Key been in a similar spot two years ago, Taemin wondered, fingers itching to trace that firm jawline.
Had he fallen off the rollercoaster of puberty by then?
“Is it stupid,” Key asked, the silence that had felt so comfortable to Taemin suffocating him, “that I feel like I understand you? Like… I know you? Get what I mean?”
Taemin did, eyes crinkling into half-moon shaped crescents as he looked at Key fondly, wordless messages passing between them. To think that the person he unconsciously pined after a whole year had been quietly watching over him from the sidelines, worrying and rooting for him...
It happened so quickly that Taemin barely knew what was going on. It was unexpected and spontaneous, but he felt so emotionally close to Key, not even touching him, just walking side by side as equals, as two confused teens who will somehow make it.
Dodging a small rubber ball a kid had accidentally thrown in his direction, he thought that if this was a dream, he refused to wake up.
The sun was up high and Taemin felt free, like he had turned a new leaf, like his friends, all their bad influence, all the less than pleasurable things he had done to get people’s positive attention, it was all behind him.
Key was just as loud as Taemin imagined, walking into the boy’s life with a bang and making it clear that he wasn’t planning on leaving.
-
Taemin had his first real love when he was seventeen. He flipped his life around, Key’s company helping him ignore the icy eyes of the people who were still trapped in Facebook statuses, endless parties and gossip, barely floating in an ocean of envy.
But Taemin had matured. He realized that there would always be people who hated those, who dared to be different and not in the rebellious let’s-get-wasted-way which turned humans into thoughtless clones living only to party, but who had the guts to find their own happiness.
Like he had once looked at the misfits from afar, wishing he had the courage to step out of the crowd, he was now glared at with poorly hidden jealousy.
Key had turned up his volume, not afraid of the consequences, stomping his feet and nagging at the top of his lungs until he got the permission to dye Taemin’s hair red and sign the boy up for a dance contest.
He had practically dragged Taemin out of the closet, right into his waiting arms.
Even the sound of him breathing was deafeningly loud to Taemin, but the teen liked it, because it was so easy to mute the rest of the world when Key was close.
And not long after did Taemin find out that Key could actually be quiet and still sometimes, lying next to him with white sheets pooling around his waist.
The man was twenty, then, spent from hours of leaving his fingerprints all over Taemin’s body. Taemin considered it his first time, though he never really forgot that girl, thankful for she had unknowingly helped him realize how out of place he was.
Yawning, he shifted closer to his sleeping lover, trying to count Key’s eyelashes,
muffling his giggles while reminiscing about how they first met.
“Hush,” Key said, voice rough, arm heavy and warm around Taemin’s waist.
It was all Key’s fault, was Taemin’s last thought before snuggling as close as possible and falling into a deep slumber.
All Key’s fault for being so goddamn loud all the time.
a/n: because i find troubled teenagers funny. yep. tippa wanted this back up so go tippa.