(no subject)
For the Pretty Lady
EXO/SHINee - Kai/Taemin
4996 words; PG
In which Taemin makes a very pretty girl.
For instantea. HS!AU.
Jongin, having finished his lunch early, has his head pillowed on his arms and is trying to get several precious minutes of shuteye before class starts. Sehun is sitting across from him, eating with one hand and texting clumsily with the other. It’s an arrangement that works for the both of them; Jongin gets to nap during the last fifteen minutes or so of lunch period, and Sehun gets to play games on his phone uninterrupted, or, more recently, text his Chinese tutor he has a painfully obvious crush on. The cafeteria’s too loud, but Jongin’s long since learned to ignore the dull roar of indistinct voices.
He’s almost in dreamland when someone plops down in the empty seat next to him and claps a heavy hand onto his shoulder.
“You know,” he hears Yonghyun’s voice say, cutting through the background noise of the cafeteria, “You really need to get a girlfriend.”
Jongin doesn’t answer, hoping his classmate will get the hint and go away. It doesn’t work.
“Girlfriends are the best,” Yonghyun continues, rhapsodizing, “They’re pretty and smell nice and have really soft skin, and you can go on romantic dates-”
“We get it, you like having a girlfriend,” another voice, Jinhwan, groans.
“I’m just saying Jongin could definitely get one if he wanted to,” Yonghyun argues, “He’s pretty good-looking, and girls confess to him all the time.”
“Hey, it’s not his fault he has no game.” This time it’s Minjae’s voice, coupled with a hand ruffling Jongin’s hair. “Remember Kim Bomin? When she confessed her undying love last year and he just thanked her.”
Jongin scowls into the circle of his arms. That’s not fair; Bomin wasn’t his fault. She’d cornered him as he was coming out of math class, still reeling from his grade on the last exam.
“Or Jung Soojung,” Jinhwan says, laughing. “‘Oppa, you’re really handsome.’ ‘… Ah.’ And just walking away.”
Fine, that one was true too, but Jongin had been functioning on two hours of sleep that day and barely had the energy to walk between classrooms, much less talk to a classmate he barely knew. Neither Bomin nor Soojung had anything to do with his game. Kim Jongin definitely has game.
He thinks he hears Sehun giggling across from him, that traitor. As one of his oldest friends, he’s supposed to defend Jongin against baseless accusations.
“What about that first year last semester, didn’t she-”
“God, shut up,” Jongin groans, lifting his head up. “I have a girlfriend, okay.”
Sehun snaps his head up from his phone and stares at him, because he knows that’s total bullshit.
“Wait, seriously?” Jinhwan leans forward, wide-eyed. “Who?”
“She can’t be from school, right, or we’d know about it.” There’s a strange glint of fervor in Yonghyun’s eyes at finding a friend who had also discovered the joys of couplehood. “How’d you guys meet? Is she our age?”
Minjae pushes the other two’s heads away. “More importantly, do you have a picture?”
Well, fuck. Jongin doesn’t have that many friends outside of school, and even less he’d have pictures of, unless you counted his all-male dance team-
“Yeah.” He reaches for his phone, quickly scrolling through his pictures until he reaches one of Taemin from that time Kibum, Taemin’s neighbor, made him dress up as a girl for a talent show. Jongin brandishes his phone at the others, who crowd around curiously.
“Woah.”
“Huh, she’s kind of cute.”
Sehun, who’s in the same dance class as Taemin and Jongin, cranes his head for a glimpse of the picture. It takes a while for the image to sink in because of his upside-down angle, but his mouth drops open in recognition and his eyes flicker up to Jongin. To his credit, though, he doesn’t actually comment until the others return the phone to Jongin and huddle together to the side, deep in discussion amongst themselves.
From: Sehunnie
Received: 12:48 PM
what are you doing?? hyung’s going to kill you!!! ><
Jongin widens his eyes threateningly at Sehun, who sticks his tongue out in reply.
“Hey, Jongin-ah,” Jinhwan calls, lifting his head from the group huddle and gesturing for Jongin to join them.
“And then they asked if we wanted to join them on a group date next weekend,” Jongin finishes. He can hear rustling and the scuff of Taemin’s sneakers against the pavement on the other end of the line, which means he’s caught Taemin on his way home from academy.
“And you said no, right?” When Jongin’s silent, Taemin repeats, suspicion creeping into his voice, “Right?” Jongin coughs. There is a long pause, and then Taemin finally says, “Well, good luck with that.”
“Taeminnieee,” Jongin most definitely doesn’t whine. “Please, my favorite person in the entire world?”
Taemin sounds unmoved by his affections. “No.”
“I even told them we wouldn’t be able to join them at the café, so it’d just be a movie afterwards. You won’t even have to talk. Just this one time, then they’ll never bother me about having a girlfriend again.”
“No! I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend just because you were stupid.”
“Please?” Jongin pleads. Desperate times call for desperate measures. “I’ll treat you out to barbeque.”
Taemin snorts. “Like you could afford the good meat.”
“I’ll treat you to all the street food you can eat at Myeongdong,” Jongin amends. Skeptical silence radiates from his cellphone. “I’ll buy you banana milk for the next month.” More silence. “Two months? Half a year?” He can picture Taemin tapping his lips thoughtfully as he considers the offer.
“Half a year,” Taemin finally says, “Plus endless street food at Myeongdong, and you have to call me ‘hyung’ all day.”
Jongin sighs; he’s not really in any position to negotiate. “Fine.”
Taemin comes over that Friday after school so they can prepare. He even brings the long wig that he wore for the talent show-Jongin decides not to ask why he still has it-which looks a little suspicious on its own but passable under a knit hat.
They raid Jongin’s sister’s closet and go digging through the clothes she left behind when she went to college. Jongin is lucky it’s almost winter; it’s a lot easier to hide parts of Taemin’s body-especially his Adam’s apple and his chest, which is so flat it’s nearly concave-under multiple layers. They piece together an outfit consisting of a scarf, a baggy sweater, skinny jeans, and flat shoes. Nothing that would make him stick out. But Taemin flat out refuses when Jongin tries to corner him with his mom’s Precious Mineral BB Cream and eyelash curler, insisting that he’ll figure something out on his own.
“So your name is Lee Taeyeon and you’re a second year,” Jongin says as Taemin tries on his new outfit with a scowl.
“But why second year?” Taemin loops the scarf around his neck.
“Maybe I just want to hear you call me ‘oppa.’” Jongin drawls, leaning against his desk with a smirk. The glare Taemin sends him could probably melt steel. “I’m kidding! You look like the younger of the two of us, you know that.”
When Taemin ignores him to adjust his clothes in front of the full-length mirror, Jongin joins him and wraps loose arms around his waist from behind, dropping his head onto Taemin’s shoulder. Their reflections really do look like a couple.
“So pretty,” Jongin says. He dodges, snickering, when Taemin whirls around and tries to headbutt him.
“So ungrateful. Why am I helping you again?” Taemin pulls his wig off and throws it to the side before flopping backwards onto Jongin’s bed. The movement jerks up his loose sweater so a smooth stripe of skin across his stomach is exposed. When Taemin stretches his arms over his head, the patch of skin pulls taut over the lean muscles underneath. “Jongin?”
Jongin snaps back to attention. “Because you love me,” he says, leaning forward to pinch his cheek. Taemin swats him away, pouting, and Jongin tugs his friend’s shirt firmly back down. “Stop flashing me. How did we meet again?”
“My cousin goes to your church and he introduced us,” Taemin recites. “I know, I know.”
“Okay, last thing. You need to practice that voice.”
Taemin sits up, clearing his throat. “Jongin-oppa,” he tries, his voice high-pitched and breathy.
Jongin stares at him, then drops his face into his hands. “You sound like a Teletubby,” he groans, “We’re doomed. I’m doomed.”
Taemin rolls his eyes and pushes Jongin’s shoulder half-heartedly. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice dropping back down to his usual register, “I’ll figure something out before next week.”
Jongin has been waiting at home for Taemin for nearly twenty minutes-they were supposed to do one last run-through of what they’d say and practice acting like a couple-when his phone beeps.
From: Taeminnie
Received: 11:25 AM
sorry running late! ^^;;; meet you at the subway station by the theater at 12:15, okay??
“Seriously? Why am I here, then,” whines Sehun, who had invited himself over as soon as he’d found out about Jongin’s plan. I need to witness this trainwreck were his exact words. “I wanted to see hyung dressed as a girl.”
“Then go away, he’s not going to be here,” Jongin groans, dropping his head onto his desk with a thump. He’s going to see Taemin for all of five minutes before meeting up with the others. What if either of them messes up their story? Jongin is a terrible actor, and Taemin has the nasty habit of blushing whenever he’s feeling guilty. What if Taemin looks like a drag queen? What if someone somehow recognizes him and Jongin is labeled a pervert? “The more I think about it, the more I think this whole thing was a really dumb idea.”
“Pretty dumb,” Sehun says absentmindedly, attention diverted by a game-probably Angry Birds again-on his phone. “And I’m here for, um. Mental support. And stuff.”
“And stuff,” Jongin imitates, but Sehun’s too busy trying to get a new high score to notice. “Why aren’t you coming with us, anyway? You’d be way more help on the actual date.”
Sehun shrugs one shoulder. “Dunno, didn’t really want to go.”
Oh, right. His Chinese tutor. Jongin tries not to roll his eyes and drops down on the bed next to Sehun. The jolt makes Sehun release his bird too early, sending it flying over the green pigs.
“Hey!”
“So am I ever going to get to meet this amazing Luhan of yours?” Jongin asks.
Sehun nearly drops his phone, a blush spreading fast across his cheeks. “W-what?”
Jongin nudges him, grinning. “Come on. You talk about her so much, I want to see how pretty she is.”
Sehun is fiddling with his cellphone charm now. “I. I don’t think that’s the betht idea,” he finally mumbles.
Jongin narrows his eyes, studying the way Sehun licks his lips and steadfastly avoids eye contact. And that lisp. He’s never this nervous around Jongin, which means he’s hiding something.
When he opens his mouth to ask, Sehun glances at his phone. “Ah, isn’t it time for you to head out?”
It’s a terrible dodge and they both know it, but Jongin lets the matter drop. For now. “Fine, fine, let’s go.”
Jongin checks his cellphone again-12:22-and sighs. Where the hell is Taemin? At this rate, they’re going to be late for the movie. For the third time within the past ten minutes, he wonders if one of them is waiting upstairs while the other is waiting downstairs. He turns around to head back down into the subway station and nearly collides with a girl who had apparently been standing right behind him.
“Oh, sorry-holy crap.”
Taemin grins, face framed by locks of long, wavy hair. His fingers curl nervously around the hem of his sweater. “That bad?”
“No, no, you just.” Jongin leans in, fascinated, but Taemin pulls back a little, flustered by the proximity. “I didn’t expect you to look like this.”
That’s the understatement of the year. Last week, Taemin still looked like himself, but in girl clothes. The person in front of him is an attractive girl with Taemin’s face. He’s barely wearing any of the outfit they’d planned last week. Jongin recognizes his sister’s scarf and sweater, but where had the miniskirt and leggings come from?
“Did you do this yourself?” he asks, tilting Taemin’s head to the side to examine his hair, then forward again to study his makeup job. He pokes experimentally at Taemin’s messy bun. “Is this a wig? It looks real.”
Taemin bats Jongin’s hand away. “Don’t touch them, they’re extensions. Shouldn’t we get going? We’re going to be late.”
“Oh.” Right, the group date, the reason they were here in the first place. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Taemin grabs his hand as they start to walk to the theater. “Getting into character,” he says when Jongin blinks at him.
The others are already waiting for them near the entrance of the movie theater. Yonghyun is holding hands with his girlfriend, Jaekyung. Jongin doesn’t recognize the girls with Minjae and Jinhwan. Jaekyung’s friends, maybe. Taemin’s grip on his hand tightens as they approach the group.
“Hey. Sorry we’re late.” Jongin scratches the back of his head. “Uh, this is my girlfriend. Taeyeon.”
Taemin bows at them and says softly, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
Jongin nearly sighs out loud in relief. “Taeyeon”’s voice is pitched only a bit higher than Taemin’s normal speaking voice, low for a girl but still believable. It’s much, much better than that terrible falsetto he’d tried last weekend. He squeezes Taemin’s hand; Taemin squeezes back and doesn’t loosen his grip through the entire round of introductions.
“You’re so sneaky, Jongin,” Minjae teases, ”Keeping her secret. How long have you guys been dating?”
Crap, they hadn’t talked about that one. Jongin completely draws a blank, but after a short, awkward pause, Taemin answers smoothly. “A few months. We’re trying to keep it secret because my mom doesn’t want me to date anyone.”
The others ahhh in understanding, nodding sympathetically.
“You’re so tall, Taeyeon-sshi,” one of Jaekyung’s friends, Jieun, marvels.
“Like a model!” Jaekyung chimes in.
Taemin laughs, ducking his head and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Jongin wonders when he had time to practice all these mannerisms. “I like milk, I guess? Especially banana milk.” He looks pointedly at Jongin, who snorts and reaches up to fix Taemin’s scarf. Jaekyung coos something about what a sweet couple they make, but he’s really just making sure Taemin doesn’t accidentally flash his Adam’s apple.
Taemin is oddly shy, pulling away as soon as Jongin’s done. Jongin lets his arms drop to his sides, confused by Taemin’s reaction, and clears his throat and glances at the others. “So what movie are we watching?”
“The new horror movie that came out last weekend,” Jinhwan says, looking back and forth between Jongin and Taemin like they’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all week. “I hope that’s okay.”
Taemin lights up and Jongin cringes inwardly. For some reason that Jongin’s never been able to comprehend, Taemin loves his blood and guts. Jongin, on the other hand, likes dance movies. They’re safe. They don’t cause nightmares about dying horrible, gruesome deaths for weeks.
The movie goes about as well as can be expected.
Jongin jumps every single time the ghost girl pops out of nowhere and nearly upends their tub of popcorn when the dead body of the main character’s friend drops from the ceiling. After that, he busies himself with munching on popcorn and sneaking glances at Taemin, who’s riveted by the action on the screen.
The next time Jongin flinches, Taemin tears his eyes away from the main character struggling with a locked door to grin at him. He leans in, breath warm against Jongin’s ear, and whispers, “Don’t worry, oppa, Taeyeon will protect you.”
Jongin grimaces and knocks his head against Taemin’s forehead, and Taemin snickers before turning back to the movie.
At one point, Jongin feels a nudge his other side and turns to Jinhwan, who gestures expansively at Taemin. Getting the hint, he wraps an arm around Taemin’s shoulders. Taemin jerks, startled by the sudden movement-of course this is what scares him, not the distorted faces of the corpses on the screen-before relaxing and settling against him for the rest of the movie.
After the movie, Minjae grabs Jongin’s arm as they all file out of the theater. Jongin falls back to talk to him.
“You’re lucky, Jonginnie. Your girl’s really pretty,” Minjae says. Jongin is willing to bet Minjae didn’t like his own date that much, since they’d kept a polite distance between them the entire time.
“Uh. Thanks, I guess.” Jongin glances over at Taemin, who’s waiting for him by the sidewalk. He’s staring off into space, probably lost in another world again. Apparently he notices Jongin watching him, though, because he snaps out of his reverie and looks over, smiling. Jongin gives a small smile back, a lopsided curve of his lips.
Then Minjae has to ruin the nice moment. “Hey, if and when you guys break up,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially, “Could I get her number?”
Jongin shoves him. “In your dreams, asshole.”
Jongin ends getting off at Taemin’s station to walk him home even though his apartment is another three stops away. It’s the least he can do, he figures.
“What if your parents see you like this?” he asks, turning to poke at Taemin’s cheek.
Taemin puffs his cheeks out. “Don’t be stupid, it’s not even five. I have at least an hour before they get back. I’m supposed to call Kibum-hyung to help me take these extensions out.”
“Oh, he helped you with all this?”
“Yeah,” Taemin says, pulling a face, “It’s like he’s been dreaming of the day he could dress me up as a girl again. I swear, he’s only gotten weirder since he got back from studying abroad-Shit.” He suddenly ducks his head and hunches in on himself. When Jongin nudges his shoulder questioningly, he hisses, “Neighbors.”
“Oh.” Jongin instinctively wraps an arm around Taemin’s shoulders and pulls him in closer, shielding his face from passerby. Taemin leans into his touch, pressing in as much as he can, tugging his scarf higher over his face under the pretense of being cold. Taemin’s left arm comes up around Jongin’s waist, thin fingers clutching Jongin’s shirt as Jongin carefully steers him past an elderly couple. Jongin feels incredibly warm everywhere Taemin is touching him, his body heat seeping into Jongin’s skin even through their layers.
They’re quiet until the danger’s passed, and Taemin finally pulls away. Jongin lets his arm drop awkwardly.
“You looked nice,” Jongin says, his voice coming out a little thick. He clears his throat. “I swear, Minjae was like in love with you by the time we left.”
“Oh God, shut up,” Taemin groans, bumping Jongin’s shoulder with his own as they approach his apartment complex.
“Thank you, though. Really.”
Taemin hums in response. “Totally planning on eating half my weight in Myeongdong, just so you know.”
They’re at the sliding doors to his building now, probably looking like every cliché couple from every drama ever, except that Taemin makes a freakishly tall girl. Jongin snorts out loud at that, and Taemin tilts his head questioningly.
“So I guess since you’re my girlfriend,” Jongin says, smirking, “I’m supposed to lean in, tilt your head up, and kiss you goodbye, right?”
It’s supposed to be a joke.
But when he leans in closer and touches his hand to Taemin’s chin, Taemin inhales sharply. Without meaning to, his gaze flickers down to Taemin’s lips, which are full and shiny with lip gloss, and he’s suddenly struck by how much he really, really wants to kiss him. Taemin is watching his mouth too, his breathing shallow, eyes wide. They’re so close their foreheads are nearly touching. Their eyes meet, and-fuck.
Jongin lets go of Taemin’s chin and jerks away. “I, uh. I’ll see you at dance practice,” he says, and runs away.
Taemin doesn’t contact him all week. No calls, no texts, no instant messages.
Jongin skips dance practice on Thursday, even though he knows it means he’ll be behind on the new routine. Sehun frowns when Jongin says that he has a headache and can’t go, because he knows that Jongin still attended practice when he’d come down with the flu a few months ago, air mask strapped over his face.
He finally drags himself to practice the week after, hesitating for a second before Sehun pushes him into the dance studio, demanding to know why he’s blocking the doorway. The rest of the team is already stretching, but Taemin isn’t there.
“This is the second time hyung’s missed practice,” Sehun comments as they put their bags down against the wall, eyebrows knitted with worry. His eyes dart to Jongin suspiciously. “Are you guys fighting or something?”
Jongin doesn’t answer.
Jongin can’t handle the silence anymore. He practically throws himself out of bed as soon as he wakes up on Saturday, even though the clock only says 10:26 and he usually sleeps in until at least noon. On the way to the subway station, he stops by the grocery store to buy shrimp chips, a box of chocolate cakes, and two cartons of milk. A peace offering.
He misses his best friend. Okay, Sehun is supposed to be his best friend, but Taemin is, well, Taemin. He’s an amazing dancer, he says the weirdest things at random times that make Jongin burst into laughter, and he never minds that Jongin isn’t always in a mood to talk, more than happy to sit in comfortable silence or fill up the quiet with his own words. He’s in sync with Jongin in a way no one else is.
Plus, Taemin helped Jongin with what was probably the dumbest plan in existence and pulled it off so well that Minjae’s probably going to pine after Jongin’s “girlfriend” for the next week or two before finding someone else to crush on.
The subway ride and walk to Taemin’s apartment complex is short, but in that time he runs through about a million different scenarios in his head, only half of which end with Taemin refusing to speak to him ever again. He can do this.
He quickly punches in the password to Taemin’s building by heart and jogs up the stairs, wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. At Taemin’s front door, he takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell.
This is stupid. He should’ve called ahead, he should’ve made sure this was okay. What if Taemin isn’t home, what if he doesn’t want to talk-
The door opens to reveal Taemin, whose eyes widen when he sees Jongin. “Hi,” he says.
“Uh.” Jongin pushes his hair out of his face, but his bangs fall right back down into place when he lets go. “You’re awake.” That was probably the worst greeting ever.
“Yeah,” Taemin says, and tilts his head to the side, “I’m surprised you are, though.”
“Yeah, well.” Jongin shuffles his feet. “I-I brought some food. I thought we could hang out today, or something,” he says, pushing the grocery bag into Taemin’s hands. He wants to figure out whether Taemin is angry or upset and adjust his tactics accordingly, but Taemin’s face is carefully blank. It scares him a little, because Taemin’s never been good at keeping his emotions off his face.
“Oh.” Taemin glances into the bag, curious in spite of himself.
“I got strawberry and coffee milk. They won’t even count toward your half-year banana milk total.”
A tiny smile. That’s something, Jongin supposes. “Come in, I guess?”
Jongin follows him into the living room, where the TV is playing. They sit down on the couch together, but it’s all wrong. Taemin is sitting far enough that they aren’t even touching, when normally they watch with Jongin’s arm slung over Taemin’s shoulders, or Taemin stretched out along the entire length of the couch with his head on Jongin’s lap.
They watch TV for several long, uncomfortable minutes, an invisible line drawn between them, before Jongin clears his throat.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he says, still facing the TV and not registering any of the flashing images on the screen. He’s never been the best at expressing himself, but this is important. “I’m really sorry. I was being dumb, okay? Please don’t be mad. I made three playlists of songs we could dance to and I couldn’t send any of them to you and practice sucked because you weren’t there and I missed you.” He mumbles the last words down at his hands. It’s a terrible jumble of words, but when he sneaks a glance at Taemin, his friend’s eyes are soft.
Taemin sighs. “I can’t stay mad at you.”
When Jongin extends his arms and pouts, Taemin laughs, pulling him into a hug. Jongin exhales and presses his face against Taemin’s shoulder; after weeks of no contact, physical or verbal, it feels like the best hug in the world.
When they finally release each other and start to pull back, they catch each other’s gazes and freeze. Taemin’s face is so close that Jongin could count each of his eyelashes if he wanted to. This scene is so familiar, but this time, neither of them pulls away.
Jongin can’t tell who leans back in first, or maybe they both do, but he sees Taemin’s eyes slide shut just before he realizes what’s going to happen. Their noses brush and Jongin tilts his head a little, and then they’re kissing, Taemin’s lips warm, soft, and a little chapped against his own. Taemin makes a little sigh against Jongin’s mouth that sends shivers up his spine.
Having no idea where to put his hands, Jongin settles for curling them around Taemin’s thin shoulders as he deepens the kiss. Suddenly it’s like Taemin suddenly comes alive under his hands, shuddering and opening his mouth and sliding his tongue against Jongin’s and gripping the back of Jongin’s shirt. He cups his other hand around the back of Jongin’s head as if to keep him in place, not that Jongin's going anywhere.
His body is twisted at an uncomfortable angle, so Jongin shifts his legs, never breaking their kiss, until they’re resting on either side of Taemin’s body. With Jongin's limbs out of the way, Taemin surges in even closer so that their chests are pressed together, his enthusiasm pushing Jongin back against the arm of the couch, Taemin’s body a warm, pleasant weight on him.
When they both finally pull away to breathe and process everything, Taemin looks a little dazed. Jongin is pretty sure he has the same expression on his own face.
Taemin bites his lip, almost comically shy even though he’s the one half-sprawled on top of Jongin. His mouth is red and even puffier than usual. The knowledge that he was the one who did that is exhilarating, and Jongin wants to pull him back in and kiss the breath out of both of them again. He’s so distracted that he nearly misses Taemin’s quiet, “So. What does this mean?”
“I don’t know.” When Taemin’s face falls, Jongin hurriedly adds, “But I like this. I like you.” It’s probably the truest thing he’s said in a while. He hesitantly reaches up to brush Taemin’s bangs out of his eyes. “Is that okay?”
Taemin exhales, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”
When he leans down again, Jongin cranes his head upward to meet him halfway.
“You’re going to make me go broke,” Jongin groans. When Taemin looks at him expectantly, he sighs and adds, “Hyung.”
“I skipped breakfast and lunch just to do this. Now shush, this one’s my favorite,” Taemin says, and pops another piece of sauce-coated fried ddeok into his mouth. He chews and swallows, adding, “You’d better still have money. I’m going to get a chicken taco later, and maybe one of those giant ice cream cones for dessert.”
Jongin briefly closes his eyes and bids a silent farewell to afterschool snacks for the next month and a half. When he opens his eyes, there’s a tater tot speared on a toothpick hovering in front of his face.
“Not going to take advantage of my generosity?” Taemin asks. His smile makes his eyes scrunch up at the corners and Jongin’s stomach twist in funny ways.
“Thank you, Taemin-hyung,” Jongin says obediently, and eats the tater tot. “Your High Majesty Taemin. Dancing Machine Taemin.”
Taemin cracks up at the last one and feeds Jongin a piece of popcorn chicken. Some sauce gets smeared on Jongin’s bottom lip and he darts his tongue out, licking it off. He smirks when he catches Taemin watching the movement of his tongue and does it again, slowly, running his tongue obscenely across his bottom lip. He bursts into laughter when Taemin flushes all the way up to his ears.
Taemin socks him in the arm, making him yelp in pain. “Stop being inappropriate, we’re eating!”
They finish the food together, Taemin alternating between eating and feeding Jongin, even though there are two toothpicks. Jongin doesn’t even mind that Taemin saves most of the chicken pieces for himself.
When Taemin wanders off to throw the container away, Jongin rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet and flexes his fingers at his side, wondering, wondering.
Taemin solves the dilemma for him, grabbing Jongin’s hand as soon as he gets back. “Come on, let’s look for new beanies.”
Jongin turns his hand to lace their fingers together. Taemin’s hand is nearly the same size as Jongin’s, and his fingers calloused from dancing. Nothing like a girl’s.
“All right, let’s go.” When Taemin tugs on his hand, Jongin follows.
*****
Just in case people don’t know:
- Because Kai was born in January ’94 (before the lunar new year), he’s considered to be the same age as Taemin, who was born in ’93. Sehun, who was born in May ’94, is considered a year younger than both of them.
- High school lasts for three years in Korea. Kai and Taemin are both third years here (grade 12), and Sehun is a second year (grade 11).
EXO/SHINee - Kai/Taemin
4996 words; PG
In which Taemin makes a very pretty girl.
For instantea. HS!AU.
Jongin, having finished his lunch early, has his head pillowed on his arms and is trying to get several precious minutes of shuteye before class starts. Sehun is sitting across from him, eating with one hand and texting clumsily with the other. It’s an arrangement that works for the both of them; Jongin gets to nap during the last fifteen minutes or so of lunch period, and Sehun gets to play games on his phone uninterrupted, or, more recently, text his Chinese tutor he has a painfully obvious crush on. The cafeteria’s too loud, but Jongin’s long since learned to ignore the dull roar of indistinct voices.
He’s almost in dreamland when someone plops down in the empty seat next to him and claps a heavy hand onto his shoulder.
“You know,” he hears Yonghyun’s voice say, cutting through the background noise of the cafeteria, “You really need to get a girlfriend.”
Jongin doesn’t answer, hoping his classmate will get the hint and go away. It doesn’t work.
“Girlfriends are the best,” Yonghyun continues, rhapsodizing, “They’re pretty and smell nice and have really soft skin, and you can go on romantic dates-”
“We get it, you like having a girlfriend,” another voice, Jinhwan, groans.
“I’m just saying Jongin could definitely get one if he wanted to,” Yonghyun argues, “He’s pretty good-looking, and girls confess to him all the time.”
“Hey, it’s not his fault he has no game.” This time it’s Minjae’s voice, coupled with a hand ruffling Jongin’s hair. “Remember Kim Bomin? When she confessed her undying love last year and he just thanked her.”
Jongin scowls into the circle of his arms. That’s not fair; Bomin wasn’t his fault. She’d cornered him as he was coming out of math class, still reeling from his grade on the last exam.
“Or Jung Soojung,” Jinhwan says, laughing. “‘Oppa, you’re really handsome.’ ‘… Ah.’ And just walking away.”
Fine, that one was true too, but Jongin had been functioning on two hours of sleep that day and barely had the energy to walk between classrooms, much less talk to a classmate he barely knew. Neither Bomin nor Soojung had anything to do with his game. Kim Jongin definitely has game.
He thinks he hears Sehun giggling across from him, that traitor. As one of his oldest friends, he’s supposed to defend Jongin against baseless accusations.
“What about that first year last semester, didn’t she-”
“God, shut up,” Jongin groans, lifting his head up. “I have a girlfriend, okay.”
Sehun snaps his head up from his phone and stares at him, because he knows that’s total bullshit.
“Wait, seriously?” Jinhwan leans forward, wide-eyed. “Who?”
“She can’t be from school, right, or we’d know about it.” There’s a strange glint of fervor in Yonghyun’s eyes at finding a friend who had also discovered the joys of couplehood. “How’d you guys meet? Is she our age?”
Minjae pushes the other two’s heads away. “More importantly, do you have a picture?”
Well, fuck. Jongin doesn’t have that many friends outside of school, and even less he’d have pictures of, unless you counted his all-male dance team-
“Yeah.” He reaches for his phone, quickly scrolling through his pictures until he reaches one of Taemin from that time Kibum, Taemin’s neighbor, made him dress up as a girl for a talent show. Jongin brandishes his phone at the others, who crowd around curiously.
“Woah.”
“Huh, she’s kind of cute.”
Sehun, who’s in the same dance class as Taemin and Jongin, cranes his head for a glimpse of the picture. It takes a while for the image to sink in because of his upside-down angle, but his mouth drops open in recognition and his eyes flicker up to Jongin. To his credit, though, he doesn’t actually comment until the others return the phone to Jongin and huddle together to the side, deep in discussion amongst themselves.
From: Sehunnie
Received: 12:48 PM
what are you doing?? hyung’s going to kill you!!! ><
Jongin widens his eyes threateningly at Sehun, who sticks his tongue out in reply.
“Hey, Jongin-ah,” Jinhwan calls, lifting his head from the group huddle and gesturing for Jongin to join them.
“And then they asked if we wanted to join them on a group date next weekend,” Jongin finishes. He can hear rustling and the scuff of Taemin’s sneakers against the pavement on the other end of the line, which means he’s caught Taemin on his way home from academy.
“And you said no, right?” When Jongin’s silent, Taemin repeats, suspicion creeping into his voice, “Right?” Jongin coughs. There is a long pause, and then Taemin finally says, “Well, good luck with that.”
“Taeminnieee,” Jongin most definitely doesn’t whine. “Please, my favorite person in the entire world?”
Taemin sounds unmoved by his affections. “No.”
“I even told them we wouldn’t be able to join them at the café, so it’d just be a movie afterwards. You won’t even have to talk. Just this one time, then they’ll never bother me about having a girlfriend again.”
“No! I’m not pretending to be your girlfriend just because you were stupid.”
“Please?” Jongin pleads. Desperate times call for desperate measures. “I’ll treat you out to barbeque.”
Taemin snorts. “Like you could afford the good meat.”
“I’ll treat you to all the street food you can eat at Myeongdong,” Jongin amends. Skeptical silence radiates from his cellphone. “I’ll buy you banana milk for the next month.” More silence. “Two months? Half a year?” He can picture Taemin tapping his lips thoughtfully as he considers the offer.
“Half a year,” Taemin finally says, “Plus endless street food at Myeongdong, and you have to call me ‘hyung’ all day.”
Jongin sighs; he’s not really in any position to negotiate. “Fine.”
Taemin comes over that Friday after school so they can prepare. He even brings the long wig that he wore for the talent show-Jongin decides not to ask why he still has it-which looks a little suspicious on its own but passable under a knit hat.
They raid Jongin’s sister’s closet and go digging through the clothes she left behind when she went to college. Jongin is lucky it’s almost winter; it’s a lot easier to hide parts of Taemin’s body-especially his Adam’s apple and his chest, which is so flat it’s nearly concave-under multiple layers. They piece together an outfit consisting of a scarf, a baggy sweater, skinny jeans, and flat shoes. Nothing that would make him stick out. But Taemin flat out refuses when Jongin tries to corner him with his mom’s Precious Mineral BB Cream and eyelash curler, insisting that he’ll figure something out on his own.
“So your name is Lee Taeyeon and you’re a second year,” Jongin says as Taemin tries on his new outfit with a scowl.
“But why second year?” Taemin loops the scarf around his neck.
“Maybe I just want to hear you call me ‘oppa.’” Jongin drawls, leaning against his desk with a smirk. The glare Taemin sends him could probably melt steel. “I’m kidding! You look like the younger of the two of us, you know that.”
When Taemin ignores him to adjust his clothes in front of the full-length mirror, Jongin joins him and wraps loose arms around his waist from behind, dropping his head onto Taemin’s shoulder. Their reflections really do look like a couple.
“So pretty,” Jongin says. He dodges, snickering, when Taemin whirls around and tries to headbutt him.
“So ungrateful. Why am I helping you again?” Taemin pulls his wig off and throws it to the side before flopping backwards onto Jongin’s bed. The movement jerks up his loose sweater so a smooth stripe of skin across his stomach is exposed. When Taemin stretches his arms over his head, the patch of skin pulls taut over the lean muscles underneath. “Jongin?”
Jongin snaps back to attention. “Because you love me,” he says, leaning forward to pinch his cheek. Taemin swats him away, pouting, and Jongin tugs his friend’s shirt firmly back down. “Stop flashing me. How did we meet again?”
“My cousin goes to your church and he introduced us,” Taemin recites. “I know, I know.”
“Okay, last thing. You need to practice that voice.”
Taemin sits up, clearing his throat. “Jongin-oppa,” he tries, his voice high-pitched and breathy.
Jongin stares at him, then drops his face into his hands. “You sound like a Teletubby,” he groans, “We’re doomed. I’m doomed.”
Taemin rolls his eyes and pushes Jongin’s shoulder half-heartedly. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice dropping back down to his usual register, “I’ll figure something out before next week.”
Jongin has been waiting at home for Taemin for nearly twenty minutes-they were supposed to do one last run-through of what they’d say and practice acting like a couple-when his phone beeps.
From: Taeminnie
Received: 11:25 AM
sorry running late! ^^;;; meet you at the subway station by the theater at 12:15, okay??
“Seriously? Why am I here, then,” whines Sehun, who had invited himself over as soon as he’d found out about Jongin’s plan. I need to witness this trainwreck were his exact words. “I wanted to see hyung dressed as a girl.”
“Then go away, he’s not going to be here,” Jongin groans, dropping his head onto his desk with a thump. He’s going to see Taemin for all of five minutes before meeting up with the others. What if either of them messes up their story? Jongin is a terrible actor, and Taemin has the nasty habit of blushing whenever he’s feeling guilty. What if Taemin looks like a drag queen? What if someone somehow recognizes him and Jongin is labeled a pervert? “The more I think about it, the more I think this whole thing was a really dumb idea.”
“Pretty dumb,” Sehun says absentmindedly, attention diverted by a game-probably Angry Birds again-on his phone. “And I’m here for, um. Mental support. And stuff.”
“And stuff,” Jongin imitates, but Sehun’s too busy trying to get a new high score to notice. “Why aren’t you coming with us, anyway? You’d be way more help on the actual date.”
Sehun shrugs one shoulder. “Dunno, didn’t really want to go.”
Oh, right. His Chinese tutor. Jongin tries not to roll his eyes and drops down on the bed next to Sehun. The jolt makes Sehun release his bird too early, sending it flying over the green pigs.
“Hey!”
“So am I ever going to get to meet this amazing Luhan of yours?” Jongin asks.
Sehun nearly drops his phone, a blush spreading fast across his cheeks. “W-what?”
Jongin nudges him, grinning. “Come on. You talk about her so much, I want to see how pretty she is.”
Sehun is fiddling with his cellphone charm now. “I. I don’t think that’s the betht idea,” he finally mumbles.
Jongin narrows his eyes, studying the way Sehun licks his lips and steadfastly avoids eye contact. And that lisp. He’s never this nervous around Jongin, which means he’s hiding something.
When he opens his mouth to ask, Sehun glances at his phone. “Ah, isn’t it time for you to head out?”
It’s a terrible dodge and they both know it, but Jongin lets the matter drop. For now. “Fine, fine, let’s go.”
Jongin checks his cellphone again-12:22-and sighs. Where the hell is Taemin? At this rate, they’re going to be late for the movie. For the third time within the past ten minutes, he wonders if one of them is waiting upstairs while the other is waiting downstairs. He turns around to head back down into the subway station and nearly collides with a girl who had apparently been standing right behind him.
“Oh, sorry-holy crap.”
Taemin grins, face framed by locks of long, wavy hair. His fingers curl nervously around the hem of his sweater. “That bad?”
“No, no, you just.” Jongin leans in, fascinated, but Taemin pulls back a little, flustered by the proximity. “I didn’t expect you to look like this.”
That’s the understatement of the year. Last week, Taemin still looked like himself, but in girl clothes. The person in front of him is an attractive girl with Taemin’s face. He’s barely wearing any of the outfit they’d planned last week. Jongin recognizes his sister’s scarf and sweater, but where had the miniskirt and leggings come from?
“Did you do this yourself?” he asks, tilting Taemin’s head to the side to examine his hair, then forward again to study his makeup job. He pokes experimentally at Taemin’s messy bun. “Is this a wig? It looks real.”
Taemin bats Jongin’s hand away. “Don’t touch them, they’re extensions. Shouldn’t we get going? We’re going to be late.”
“Oh.” Right, the group date, the reason they were here in the first place. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Taemin grabs his hand as they start to walk to the theater. “Getting into character,” he says when Jongin blinks at him.
The others are already waiting for them near the entrance of the movie theater. Yonghyun is holding hands with his girlfriend, Jaekyung. Jongin doesn’t recognize the girls with Minjae and Jinhwan. Jaekyung’s friends, maybe. Taemin’s grip on his hand tightens as they approach the group.
“Hey. Sorry we’re late.” Jongin scratches the back of his head. “Uh, this is my girlfriend. Taeyeon.”
Taemin bows at them and says softly, “Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
Jongin nearly sighs out loud in relief. “Taeyeon”’s voice is pitched only a bit higher than Taemin’s normal speaking voice, low for a girl but still believable. It’s much, much better than that terrible falsetto he’d tried last weekend. He squeezes Taemin’s hand; Taemin squeezes back and doesn’t loosen his grip through the entire round of introductions.
“You’re so sneaky, Jongin,” Minjae teases, ”Keeping her secret. How long have you guys been dating?”
Crap, they hadn’t talked about that one. Jongin completely draws a blank, but after a short, awkward pause, Taemin answers smoothly. “A few months. We’re trying to keep it secret because my mom doesn’t want me to date anyone.”
The others ahhh in understanding, nodding sympathetically.
“You’re so tall, Taeyeon-sshi,” one of Jaekyung’s friends, Jieun, marvels.
“Like a model!” Jaekyung chimes in.
Taemin laughs, ducking his head and tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Jongin wonders when he had time to practice all these mannerisms. “I like milk, I guess? Especially banana milk.” He looks pointedly at Jongin, who snorts and reaches up to fix Taemin’s scarf. Jaekyung coos something about what a sweet couple they make, but he’s really just making sure Taemin doesn’t accidentally flash his Adam’s apple.
Taemin is oddly shy, pulling away as soon as Jongin’s done. Jongin lets his arms drop to his sides, confused by Taemin’s reaction, and clears his throat and glances at the others. “So what movie are we watching?”
“The new horror movie that came out last weekend,” Jinhwan says, looking back and forth between Jongin and Taemin like they’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all week. “I hope that’s okay.”
Taemin lights up and Jongin cringes inwardly. For some reason that Jongin’s never been able to comprehend, Taemin loves his blood and guts. Jongin, on the other hand, likes dance movies. They’re safe. They don’t cause nightmares about dying horrible, gruesome deaths for weeks.
The movie goes about as well as can be expected.
Jongin jumps every single time the ghost girl pops out of nowhere and nearly upends their tub of popcorn when the dead body of the main character’s friend drops from the ceiling. After that, he busies himself with munching on popcorn and sneaking glances at Taemin, who’s riveted by the action on the screen.
The next time Jongin flinches, Taemin tears his eyes away from the main character struggling with a locked door to grin at him. He leans in, breath warm against Jongin’s ear, and whispers, “Don’t worry, oppa, Taeyeon will protect you.”
Jongin grimaces and knocks his head against Taemin’s forehead, and Taemin snickers before turning back to the movie.
At one point, Jongin feels a nudge his other side and turns to Jinhwan, who gestures expansively at Taemin. Getting the hint, he wraps an arm around Taemin’s shoulders. Taemin jerks, startled by the sudden movement-of course this is what scares him, not the distorted faces of the corpses on the screen-before relaxing and settling against him for the rest of the movie.
After the movie, Minjae grabs Jongin’s arm as they all file out of the theater. Jongin falls back to talk to him.
“You’re lucky, Jonginnie. Your girl’s really pretty,” Minjae says. Jongin is willing to bet Minjae didn’t like his own date that much, since they’d kept a polite distance between them the entire time.
“Uh. Thanks, I guess.” Jongin glances over at Taemin, who’s waiting for him by the sidewalk. He’s staring off into space, probably lost in another world again. Apparently he notices Jongin watching him, though, because he snaps out of his reverie and looks over, smiling. Jongin gives a small smile back, a lopsided curve of his lips.
Then Minjae has to ruin the nice moment. “Hey, if and when you guys break up,” he says, leaning in conspiratorially, “Could I get her number?”
Jongin shoves him. “In your dreams, asshole.”
Jongin ends getting off at Taemin’s station to walk him home even though his apartment is another three stops away. It’s the least he can do, he figures.
“What if your parents see you like this?” he asks, turning to poke at Taemin’s cheek.
Taemin puffs his cheeks out. “Don’t be stupid, it’s not even five. I have at least an hour before they get back. I’m supposed to call Kibum-hyung to help me take these extensions out.”
“Oh, he helped you with all this?”
“Yeah,” Taemin says, pulling a face, “It’s like he’s been dreaming of the day he could dress me up as a girl again. I swear, he’s only gotten weirder since he got back from studying abroad-Shit.” He suddenly ducks his head and hunches in on himself. When Jongin nudges his shoulder questioningly, he hisses, “Neighbors.”
“Oh.” Jongin instinctively wraps an arm around Taemin’s shoulders and pulls him in closer, shielding his face from passerby. Taemin leans into his touch, pressing in as much as he can, tugging his scarf higher over his face under the pretense of being cold. Taemin’s left arm comes up around Jongin’s waist, thin fingers clutching Jongin’s shirt as Jongin carefully steers him past an elderly couple. Jongin feels incredibly warm everywhere Taemin is touching him, his body heat seeping into Jongin’s skin even through their layers.
They’re quiet until the danger’s passed, and Taemin finally pulls away. Jongin lets his arm drop awkwardly.
“You looked nice,” Jongin says, his voice coming out a little thick. He clears his throat. “I swear, Minjae was like in love with you by the time we left.”
“Oh God, shut up,” Taemin groans, bumping Jongin’s shoulder with his own as they approach his apartment complex.
“Thank you, though. Really.”
Taemin hums in response. “Totally planning on eating half my weight in Myeongdong, just so you know.”
They’re at the sliding doors to his building now, probably looking like every cliché couple from every drama ever, except that Taemin makes a freakishly tall girl. Jongin snorts out loud at that, and Taemin tilts his head questioningly.
“So I guess since you’re my girlfriend,” Jongin says, smirking, “I’m supposed to lean in, tilt your head up, and kiss you goodbye, right?”
It’s supposed to be a joke.
But when he leans in closer and touches his hand to Taemin’s chin, Taemin inhales sharply. Without meaning to, his gaze flickers down to Taemin’s lips, which are full and shiny with lip gloss, and he’s suddenly struck by how much he really, really wants to kiss him. Taemin is watching his mouth too, his breathing shallow, eyes wide. They’re so close their foreheads are nearly touching. Their eyes meet, and-fuck.
Jongin lets go of Taemin’s chin and jerks away. “I, uh. I’ll see you at dance practice,” he says, and runs away.
Taemin doesn’t contact him all week. No calls, no texts, no instant messages.
Jongin skips dance practice on Thursday, even though he knows it means he’ll be behind on the new routine. Sehun frowns when Jongin says that he has a headache and can’t go, because he knows that Jongin still attended practice when he’d come down with the flu a few months ago, air mask strapped over his face.
He finally drags himself to practice the week after, hesitating for a second before Sehun pushes him into the dance studio, demanding to know why he’s blocking the doorway. The rest of the team is already stretching, but Taemin isn’t there.
“This is the second time hyung’s missed practice,” Sehun comments as they put their bags down against the wall, eyebrows knitted with worry. His eyes dart to Jongin suspiciously. “Are you guys fighting or something?”
Jongin doesn’t answer.
Jongin can’t handle the silence anymore. He practically throws himself out of bed as soon as he wakes up on Saturday, even though the clock only says 10:26 and he usually sleeps in until at least noon. On the way to the subway station, he stops by the grocery store to buy shrimp chips, a box of chocolate cakes, and two cartons of milk. A peace offering.
He misses his best friend. Okay, Sehun is supposed to be his best friend, but Taemin is, well, Taemin. He’s an amazing dancer, he says the weirdest things at random times that make Jongin burst into laughter, and he never minds that Jongin isn’t always in a mood to talk, more than happy to sit in comfortable silence or fill up the quiet with his own words. He’s in sync with Jongin in a way no one else is.
Plus, Taemin helped Jongin with what was probably the dumbest plan in existence and pulled it off so well that Minjae’s probably going to pine after Jongin’s “girlfriend” for the next week or two before finding someone else to crush on.
The subway ride and walk to Taemin’s apartment complex is short, but in that time he runs through about a million different scenarios in his head, only half of which end with Taemin refusing to speak to him ever again. He can do this.
He quickly punches in the password to Taemin’s building by heart and jogs up the stairs, wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. At Taemin’s front door, he takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell.
This is stupid. He should’ve called ahead, he should’ve made sure this was okay. What if Taemin isn’t home, what if he doesn’t want to talk-
The door opens to reveal Taemin, whose eyes widen when he sees Jongin. “Hi,” he says.
“Uh.” Jongin pushes his hair out of his face, but his bangs fall right back down into place when he lets go. “You’re awake.” That was probably the worst greeting ever.
“Yeah,” Taemin says, and tilts his head to the side, “I’m surprised you are, though.”
“Yeah, well.” Jongin shuffles his feet. “I-I brought some food. I thought we could hang out today, or something,” he says, pushing the grocery bag into Taemin’s hands. He wants to figure out whether Taemin is angry or upset and adjust his tactics accordingly, but Taemin’s face is carefully blank. It scares him a little, because Taemin’s never been good at keeping his emotions off his face.
“Oh.” Taemin glances into the bag, curious in spite of himself.
“I got strawberry and coffee milk. They won’t even count toward your half-year banana milk total.”
A tiny smile. That’s something, Jongin supposes. “Come in, I guess?”
Jongin follows him into the living room, where the TV is playing. They sit down on the couch together, but it’s all wrong. Taemin is sitting far enough that they aren’t even touching, when normally they watch with Jongin’s arm slung over Taemin’s shoulders, or Taemin stretched out along the entire length of the couch with his head on Jongin’s lap.
They watch TV for several long, uncomfortable minutes, an invisible line drawn between them, before Jongin clears his throat.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he says, still facing the TV and not registering any of the flashing images on the screen. He’s never been the best at expressing himself, but this is important. “I’m really sorry. I was being dumb, okay? Please don’t be mad. I made three playlists of songs we could dance to and I couldn’t send any of them to you and practice sucked because you weren’t there and I missed you.” He mumbles the last words down at his hands. It’s a terrible jumble of words, but when he sneaks a glance at Taemin, his friend’s eyes are soft.
Taemin sighs. “I can’t stay mad at you.”
When Jongin extends his arms and pouts, Taemin laughs, pulling him into a hug. Jongin exhales and presses his face against Taemin’s shoulder; after weeks of no contact, physical or verbal, it feels like the best hug in the world.
When they finally release each other and start to pull back, they catch each other’s gazes and freeze. Taemin’s face is so close that Jongin could count each of his eyelashes if he wanted to. This scene is so familiar, but this time, neither of them pulls away.
Jongin can’t tell who leans back in first, or maybe they both do, but he sees Taemin’s eyes slide shut just before he realizes what’s going to happen. Their noses brush and Jongin tilts his head a little, and then they’re kissing, Taemin’s lips warm, soft, and a little chapped against his own. Taemin makes a little sigh against Jongin’s mouth that sends shivers up his spine.
Having no idea where to put his hands, Jongin settles for curling them around Taemin’s thin shoulders as he deepens the kiss. Suddenly it’s like Taemin suddenly comes alive under his hands, shuddering and opening his mouth and sliding his tongue against Jongin’s and gripping the back of Jongin’s shirt. He cups his other hand around the back of Jongin’s head as if to keep him in place, not that Jongin's going anywhere.
His body is twisted at an uncomfortable angle, so Jongin shifts his legs, never breaking their kiss, until they’re resting on either side of Taemin’s body. With Jongin's limbs out of the way, Taemin surges in even closer so that their chests are pressed together, his enthusiasm pushing Jongin back against the arm of the couch, Taemin’s body a warm, pleasant weight on him.
When they both finally pull away to breathe and process everything, Taemin looks a little dazed. Jongin is pretty sure he has the same expression on his own face.
Taemin bites his lip, almost comically shy even though he’s the one half-sprawled on top of Jongin. His mouth is red and even puffier than usual. The knowledge that he was the one who did that is exhilarating, and Jongin wants to pull him back in and kiss the breath out of both of them again. He’s so distracted that he nearly misses Taemin’s quiet, “So. What does this mean?”
“I don’t know.” When Taemin’s face falls, Jongin hurriedly adds, “But I like this. I like you.” It’s probably the truest thing he’s said in a while. He hesitantly reaches up to brush Taemin’s bangs out of his eyes. “Is that okay?”
Taemin exhales, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”
When he leans down again, Jongin cranes his head upward to meet him halfway.
“You’re going to make me go broke,” Jongin groans. When Taemin looks at him expectantly, he sighs and adds, “Hyung.”
“I skipped breakfast and lunch just to do this. Now shush, this one’s my favorite,” Taemin says, and pops another piece of sauce-coated fried ddeok into his mouth. He chews and swallows, adding, “You’d better still have money. I’m going to get a chicken taco later, and maybe one of those giant ice cream cones for dessert.”
Jongin briefly closes his eyes and bids a silent farewell to afterschool snacks for the next month and a half. When he opens his eyes, there’s a tater tot speared on a toothpick hovering in front of his face.
“Not going to take advantage of my generosity?” Taemin asks. His smile makes his eyes scrunch up at the corners and Jongin’s stomach twist in funny ways.
“Thank you, Taemin-hyung,” Jongin says obediently, and eats the tater tot. “Your High Majesty Taemin. Dancing Machine Taemin.”
Taemin cracks up at the last one and feeds Jongin a piece of popcorn chicken. Some sauce gets smeared on Jongin’s bottom lip and he darts his tongue out, licking it off. He smirks when he catches Taemin watching the movement of his tongue and does it again, slowly, running his tongue obscenely across his bottom lip. He bursts into laughter when Taemin flushes all the way up to his ears.
Taemin socks him in the arm, making him yelp in pain. “Stop being inappropriate, we’re eating!”
They finish the food together, Taemin alternating between eating and feeding Jongin, even though there are two toothpicks. Jongin doesn’t even mind that Taemin saves most of the chicken pieces for himself.
When Taemin wanders off to throw the container away, Jongin rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet and flexes his fingers at his side, wondering, wondering.
Taemin solves the dilemma for him, grabbing Jongin’s hand as soon as he gets back. “Come on, let’s look for new beanies.”
Jongin turns his hand to lace their fingers together. Taemin’s hand is nearly the same size as Jongin’s, and his fingers calloused from dancing. Nothing like a girl’s.
“All right, let’s go.” When Taemin tugs on his hand, Jongin follows.
*****
Just in case people don’t know:
- Because Kai was born in January ’94 (before the lunar new year), he’s considered to be the same age as Taemin, who was born in ’93. Sehun, who was born in May ’94, is considered a year younger than both of them.
- High school lasts for three years in Korea. Kai and Taemin are both third years here (grade 12), and Sehun is a second year (grade 11).