[SHINee] Dreams Are My Reality (1/1)
Title: Dreams Are My Reality
Fandom: SHINee, EXO, SM
Author: chiharu
Characters/pairing: Taemin/Minho
Rating: PG
wordcount: ~6,100
Summary: Taemin has a seriously bad case of hero worship until it turns into something that even he can't handle. College!AU. For minniecouture
For minniecouture, because apparently I don't write enough 2min (So not true-> Exhibit A). I also threw some of Kai in here, just for your BB. I kept getting stuck in this fic and had to watch 2min videos on youtube. No lies. I also just wanted red hair!Taemin again. Thank you mousapelli for betaing!
Last night, I had a dream about you, Taemin wants to say when he sees Minho in the dining hall. Minho is smiling brilliantly as he sits with his friends. When the pretty brunette next to him says something, Minho laughs, the back of his right hand hovering just above his chin as he hides his amusement.
Taemin’s throat burns, so he tears his eyes away from the scene and walks back to his table. The entirety of the dance club is there, laughing as Donghae makes a joke about his food. His best friends are sitting in front him, yet Taemin would give the world to be near Minho at this moment. Taemin would give the world to have Minho look at him.
He meets Minho in October. Taemin is haphazardly stuffing his exam into his messenger bag when the strap snaps. He loses half of his notes, sheets of loose leaf folded carefully into the pages of his soft cover text book sliding effortlessly out. Taemin is tired, his back aching from hours of dance practice. He skipped lunch in order to pick up his horribly mediocre exam from the t.a., and now the entire contents of his bag is on the floor. He could be eating lunch, but instead he is here. As Taemin attempts to shove everything back into the bag, he realizes that the cap of his gel pen has snapped in half. Suddenly he is so, so upset.
Taemin thinks it would be much easier to rip his notes in half, but all of a sudden someone is kneeling down in front of him, helping him pick up the papers. The stranger hands Taemin his spiral notebook and gives Taemin a reassuring pat on the back, squeezing Taemin’s shoulder in the process. When he finishes collecting all of Taemin’s belongings off the floor, the boy offers him a smile and walks away.
Taemin can’t remember if he even said thank you as he watches the boy’s friend jog up to him a few feet away, going, “Let go Minho! We’re late!”
When Taemin finally makes it to lunch, Jongin asks if everything is alright. Taemin doesn’t know how to explain that this stranger, Minho, is the only one who kept him from bursting into tears in the middle of the hallway.
Taemin sees Minho a few weeks later. Minho is talking to a friend as he pushes a bicycle by the handlebars along the sidewalk. It is November and Minho’s coat is a dark green color, the sleeves rolled up to reveal bright red bandages, a sure sign that Minho has just donated in the blood drive. Taemin watches as Minho bids his friend goodbye at the next crosswalk. Taemin wants to jog up to him, wants to thank Minho, but suddenly Minho is mounting on his bike and riding away.
Taemin’s life would have been so much easier if it ended there.
Taemin develops an excellent radar for Minho after that. He spots Minho in the library, tucked between the western literature aisles, Minho’s back lined against the row of books as he sits, his legs spread out while he peruses through a hard cover.
He finds Minho in the coffee shop, seated near the back as Minho types into his laptop, occasionally cross referencing the notes laid out in front of him.
He notices when Minho jogs pass him every Tuesday morning as Taemin walks to his classes. They always cross paths near the bridge overpass. Taemin times their encounters in his mind, counting down the seconds until he catches sight of the familiar boy in track pants. Taemin counts the seconds, minutes, and hours he spends thinking about Minho every day and then promptly forgets Minho’s existence while he loses himself in the flurry of school work and dance rehearsals. Then, like clockwork, he thinks about Minho again, and the cycle repeats.
Taemin has stumbled upon Minho countless times, words of gratitude on the tip of his tongue. Yet Taemin never approaches Minho, for fear that something will end if he finally speaks.
Taemin thinks he developed this habit of hero worshiping early on in life, eternally thankful for anyone who ever showed him compassion. It doesn’t help that he was always too small, too feminine, and too quiet. Kibum was the first one to acknowledge it, perched on the sidewalk of the drama building on that warm September night. “You don’t have to thank me so much,” Kibum had said, standing up to dust his jeans. “If anyone ever harasses you again, just kick them in the face.”
Kibum had acted as if interrupting a group of inebriated upperclassmen as they catcalled at Taemin was nothing. Kibum had watched the entire scene unfold in the dark before telling the men to get lost, because they were interrupting the drama department from building their set for the play. The entire scene dispersed rather anticlimactically when Kibum threatened to call the campus police, ignoring the way he was pointedly flipped off.
“You shouldn’t walk around by yourself this late at night,” Kibum had replied when Taemin explained that he was on his way to Mister Donut for a midnight snack. “Come in and help us build our set. I’ll feed you pizza.”
Taemin had been sold right there, a plateful of pizza stuffed into his hands as Kibum’s friends gathered around Taemin, showing him more interest than Taemin’s entire dorm had in his first month of starting college. Kibum initiated him fast enough, assigning Taemin work to do.
Taemin had returned the next day, and the day after that.
In the spring, Taemin becomes the prop master for their semester musical. Kibum laughs and tells him not to become drunk with power, handing him the inventory list. Kibum leaves when the student director calls the cast away, and Taemin is left with his own army of bright-eyed first years ready to hammer away.
“Why did they assign you the position?” Jongin asks during dance practice, helping Taemin stretch as they rehearse for the showcase. “It’s not like you don’t have enough on your plate, what with the set building, dancing, and stalking-”
“I’m not stalking him!” Taemin says, immediately denying the accusation with waving hands.
“Hyung,” Jongin says, never having gotten to bring himself to drop the formalities even after skipping a year. He makes a face at Taemin, and Taemin puffs his cheeks up like a gold fish. They have a good laugh about it until Donghae barks at them to stop flirting and start dancing.
Taemin spends the rest of that semester alternating between the drama department and the dance studios, ironically located on opposite ends of campus. He makes legendary dashes across grounds approximately 2.5 times a day, bags of props in his arms as he shuffles from mixing dance tracks to mixing paint.
It figures that when he does run into Minho again, it’s with enough force to knock the both of them down. Taemin’s jeans are covered in Mod Podge and glue, his hair impossibly messy from hours of dancing. Taemin is busy picking up his stuff when he realizes how familiar this situation is.
“You seem to be in a hurry,” Minho says, good-natured, as he holds out the open suitcase packed with stacks of fake paper money Taemin just made.
Taemin opens his mouth, only to close it again. He wants to say something clever, but Minho is already pulling him up and handing most of Taemin’s stuff back to him. Minho is walking away before Taemin can bring himself to shout “Thank you!”
“What’s wrong with you?” Krystal asks when Taemin finally shows up. Taemin takes one look at the electric saw in Krystal’s hand and promptly remembers that his shipment of plywood is coming in today, effectively forgetting about his previous encounter.
The show comes faster than Taemin expects, but the crew manages to finish every fixture of the set and put every prop in place within hours on the opening night. During the show, he shares drinks with the rest of the crew, sitting on the antique chest for act 3.
“Come to the cast party afterwards,” Jino insists, dressed in all black. He’s on stage duty for tonight with Krystal, despite the fact that Krystal can’t stop complaining about her sister in the cast.
Taemin hums, stretching. They’re interrupted when Tiffany, the costumes director, runs into the hallway to complain about a lost rack of costumes for act 2. Taemin spends five good minutes calming Tiffany down before they find the said rack in a closet with a guilty looking Luna and Jinki.
He gets dragged to the cast party regardless. Tiffany insists on introducing him to the rest of the cast, and Taemin is listening to Jessica and Kibum joke about Jonghyun tripping on stage when a familiar face joins their conversation.
“This is Choi Minho, by the way,” Yuri explains with some humor in her eyes.
“We also live together,” Jonghyun supplies.
“This is Taeminnie,” Kibum explains, pulling Taemin into a possessive grip. Tiffany insists on hugging Taemin too, and suddenly Taemin finds himself squeezed in the middle of a group hug while an amused Minho watches.
“We’ve met before,” Minho says with a smile.
With the musical selling out and the dance club taking home second place at the regional showcase, Taemin supposes he’s had a rather successful semester. That is, until he sees his chemistry grade two weeks before finals.
“I’m failing?” Taemin asks, perhaps a little louder than necessary, when he finally looks up from his interim transcript.
“Failed,” his T.A. corrects. “Past tense. You won’t get above a C- even if you do better on the Final. I would recommend that you withdraw from the course right now and retake it next semester.”
Taemin frowns. “I don’t have time in my schedule next semester.”
His T.A. looks unimpressed, busy flipping through another stack of papers. “Then I suggest that you take it over the summer.”
Taemin thinks about his words as he shares the news with Kibum over dinner. “My parents will be so disappointed. And where would I even stay for the summer?” He sighs into his soup.
Kibum gives him a pitying look. “I don’t know about the first question, but if you need a place to stay, I know Jjong is trying to sublease his apartment for the summer.”
Jonghyun’s apartment, Taemin thinks. The one he shares with Minho.
Jonghyun seems enthusiastic about the idea. “Really, I was starting to think no one would sublease from me,” he says while taking Taemin on a mini tour of the apartment, a small town house with two rooms on the second floor. He leans back against the kitchen counter, a welcoming sight from Taemin’s first year dorm. “Rent’s not bad because I share with Minho, plus electricity and water are covered. Also, you can use my furniture and anything in my room. It’s a good deal, you should take it.”
“He’s only saying that because he can’t find anyone else.” Minho walks into the kitchen at that moment, grabbing a carton of milk from the fridge. “That’s what happens when you sign a year round lease without planning to stay for a year.”
“Hey!” Jonghyun protests. “At least I have a real job for the summer.”
“Internship, hyung,” Minho corrects. He turns to Taemin afterwards. “I’ll be here for the summer too, and I promise to be clean. How about it?” He grins when Taemin nods, but Jonghyun is the one who hugs Taemin instead.
“Good job, hyung,” Jongin says when Taemin tells him the news. “Now you won’t have to long for him from afar anymore.” Jongin laughs when Taemin shakes him. They push and shove each other for a bit before Jongin deflates. “I wish I could stay here for the summer too.”
“I wish you could stay with me too,” Taemin admits, sighing as he helps Jongin pack. Things are always easier with Jongin around, but Taemin knows he’s lucky enough just to have his childhood friend attend the same university, so he tries not to be greedy while sending Jongin off.
Moving his own stuff to the apartment is another story. Kibum takes pity on Taemin and helps him carry the lighter stuff. When they stumble into the apartment with an armful of boxes, Minho insists on helping too. The three of them finish the job within thirty minutes, rolling on the floor in the air conditioning afterwards while sharing Jonghyun’s left over soda.
Kibum leaves a little bit later, and Taemin sees him off at the train station. “I’ll be back in July for the regional thespian conference,” he says while they wait for his train. “You’ll be fine here with Minho, right?” He pauses when Taemin flushes red. “Hey, hey. There’s something I have to tell you, though.”
Taemin blinks at him.
“No matter what you do,” Kibum says slowly, “don’t fall in love with Minho.”
Taemin digests the words slowly on his way back to the apartment. Kibum was always quick on the uptake, but Taemin shakes the thought out of his head when he finds Minho playing the PS3 in the living room. They play COD the rest of the night, ordering pizza and laughing when the delivery boy gives them odd looks.
Taemin gets a part time job working at the library over the summer. He attends class in the mornings, works in the afternoon, and comes back to the apartment around the same time as Minho every day. Minho seems to be involved in every intramural sport possible, usually returning in the evening, sweaty but content. They eat breakfast together in the mornings, Minho laughing at the weird selection of jams Taemin puts on his toast. At night, they order takeout more frequently than necessary, alternating between gaming and watching movies until Taemin retreats to do his homework.
Minho goes out at night multiple times a week, but he’s usually composed when returning early in the morning, grinning at a sleepy Taemin. On those days, he makes breakfast for Taemin and watches as Taemin picks through his omelet, always declining on the pretense of being hung over when Taemin offers him food.
Taemin doesn’t know what Minho’s night time activates are like, but he’s satisfied in simply knowing what Minho is like in real life.
Two weeks into their cohabitation, Taemin forgets his Chemistry book and runs home ten minutes after leaving. He finds Yuri sitting in the kitchen in nothing but Minho’s t-shirt and drinking milk from Minho’s mug. She looks startled at first but greets Taemin regardless, her hair tousled and her cheeks glowing.
Minho comes out of the shower a minute later. “Back already?” He blinks at Taemin.
“I’m late!” Taemin manages to say before rushing out. Taemin spends the rest of the day in the library. He forgets the protocols on returning DVDs and re-shelves half of the cart wrong, hiding in the library even after his shift.
When he finally comes back to the apartment, Yuri is already gone, and Minho is making dinner for once. He nods for Taemin to sit down at small square table in the kitchen as he scoops rice into Taemin’s bowl. “Where were you?”
“I picked up an extra shift,” Taemin lies, staring at his rice.
“Eh, okay,” Minho says.
“Are you dating Yuri-noona?” Taemin asks at last, voice small.
Minho grins sheepishly at him, running a hand through his bangs. “Yeah. Kind of. Sorry for not warning you.”
Things go back to normal after that. Taemin thinks it’s inevitable; he never expected anything but friendship to come out of this, and he blames himself a little for believing otherwise. Minho treats Taemin partly as a roommate and partly as a kid. They talk about Minho’s nightly escapades with his hyungs, and Taemin is somewhat relieved to know that Minho mostly just humors his hyungs and calls them cabs. The Yuri incident doesn’t repeat itself, but sometimes Minho comes home smelling of perfume.
Taemin signs up for the crew of a summer production at the local theater. Bringing home random props is familiar and comforting, and Minho watches while Taemin makes pieces of the set in their apartment, Taemin clad in an impossibly large t-shirt as he warns Minho from stepping on his equipment. Minho laughs when Taemin gets paint smeared on his face, and they fight over the paint brush until half a can of Yellow 453 spills on Jonghyun’s carpet.
They spend the rest of the day cleaning up, elbows deep in bleach while they scrub away at the carpet. Taemin opens the windows on the first floor when the fumes gets too bad, laughing when Minho throws a sponge at him. Later, Minho helps Taemin wash paint out of his hair over the sink, Minho’s fingers working gentle circles on Taemin’s scalp.
“Hyung,” Taemin says, peering up at Minho. Suddenly he feels brave. “Why don’t you bring Yuri-noona over more?”
Minho gives him a small smile as he towel-dries Taemin’s hair. “I’m not really…dating Yuri.”
“Minho isn’t dating Yuri,” Kibum says when Taemin retells the story later. “Minho doesn’t date anyone.”
“Oh,” Taemin says.
One day the electricity goes out after a summer storm. Taemin and Minho eat their way through all the perishables in the fridge and play cards in the candle light. The air conditioning is also gone, so Minho suggest that they blow up the air mattress and leave all the windows open.
“Let’s not.” Taemin makes a face, trying to escape up stairs. “That’s when the serial killers come out.” The second floor is not at all unlike an oven, Taemin tossing and turning in his bed until he finally gives up and joins Minho downstairs.
Taemin wakes up the next morning, face pressed against Minho’s left arm. Minho just laughs, mouth wide, when Taemin tries to pry away. Minho pulls Taemin into a hug and rolls him over until they both fall off the air mattress. “Looks like serial killers prefer air conditioning too,” Minho says, smiling up close, and Taemin can’t help but smile back.
Taemin takes a midterm for his summer session mid-June. He spends hours sitting in the living room, chemistry textbooks and notes spread across the floor as he attempts to memorize chemical bonds and molecular structures, the side of his index finger callused from writing with his pencil for so long. He’s halfway through chapter five when Minho returns with a girl in tow.
“You’re home already?” Minho asks, first thing, as he pulls his companion towards him by the hand.
Taemin bites back his sarcasm and says, “My exam is tonight. No classes today.” He looks back down at his notes when the girl whispers something into Minho’s ear. Taemin remembers Minho saying that they’ll be upstairs. When Taemin looks up again, he hears the door to Minho’s room close.
Choi Minho, Taemin thinks to himself. Simultaneously the world’s greatest hyung and biggest asshole. Who also looks great in his dress shirt from last night, judging from the smeared make-up on his female companion’s face. Taemin thinks about the full size bed in Minho’s room before gathering his studying material and heading for the library, vowing to never take Minho’s smiles and open affection personally ever again.
Everyone floods back onto campus in early July, ready for midsummer celebrations and a weekend of partying. Taemin returns from work one day to find Jonghyun and Kibum seated in the living room, fighting over the remote control. On the counter is an impressive selection of alcohol and mixers.
“I’m not going to take your bed,” Jonghyun says, grinning. “But I might crash on the couch for the weekend.” When he finds Taemin staring at the alcohol, Jonghyun adds, “the plan is for us to host on Friday and to go clubbing on Saturday. You’ll be joining us, right?”
“Us” turns out to be half of the drama department and some of Minho’s teammates.
Taemin navigates his way around the apartment on Friday, careful to not step on any toes as people crowd around the living room and the hallways, Jonghyun’s music selection blasting uncomfortably loud in Taemin’s ears. He spends a good while chatting with Jinki before finding Minho in the kitchen, laughing as he serves drinks to a whole row of girls.
Taemin does a 360 out of the kitchen, only to run into Yuri with her arms folded in the hallway, a bottle of soju in hand. She’s friendly with Taemin, greeting him and asking him about his summer. “Have you had anything to drink?” she asks, handing him her own bottle and shrugging when Taemin declines.
“How’s Minho?” Yuri asks.
“Shouldn’t you know better than me?” Taemin replies before he can stop himself.
Yuri gives Taemin an unreadable look. “I could ask him myself, but that would imply that I care, and Minho usually bails when people start caring.” Their shoulders touch, leaning identically against the wall while simultaneous watching a group of people play beer pong in the living room.
When the weight of Yuri’s words sink in, Taemin ask, “Noona, do you love-”
“No,” Yuri cuts in, turning to give Taemin a small smile as she knocks on her own head playfully. “I know better than that. Minho is impossibly kind and a gentlemen through and through, but he only knows how to break hearts, not mend them.”
Taemin thinks about their conversation after that, even after Yuri leaves, and when Minho’s door is shut for the rest of the night. Taemin sits on the front porch after throwing out the trash, a gash on the palm of his right hand from cutting himself on a broken soju bottle while cleaning up after the party.
“Here,” Kibum says, joining him on the porch as he tends to Taemin’s cut. He looks up when Taemin winces. “What did you and Yuri talk about?” When Taemin doesn’t reply, he gives Taemin’s arm a little squeeze. “I shouldn’t have warned you about Minho without explaining anything, sorry.”
Taemin is quiet for a minute. “Even if he won’t love me, I still want him.”
“I’m sorry,” Kibum just says.
On Saturday night, Kyuhyun and Changmin take a group of them bar hopping. Jonghyun disappears within the crowd early on in the night, and by the time they hit the fourth bar, it’s just Taemin and Minho following Kyuhyun and Changmin, cash at hand as they order more shots. Minho begins to take the shots for Taemin, but after a while even Taemin gets fed up of his chivalry.
“I’m not a girl,” Taemin says. He takes the next couple of shots straight, the tequila burning in the back of his throat. He pauses when someone familiar steps into his field of view.
It’s Donghae, Eunhyuk, and the majority of their dance club. “Taemnnie! I didn’t know you were here!” Donghae yells, grabbing Taemin towards the dance floor. “This is our jam! We have to dance to this!”
Taemin ends up in the middle of a circle as he pops on the dance floor, his vision swimming and his hair obstructing the view as he glides under the flashing neon lights. His friends hoot at him while Taemin moves to the music, his necklace flying everywhere. Taemin laughs when other people join in, and suddenly he is dancing with a girl who looks much more intoxicated than Taemin himself.
The girl has her arms wrapped around his neck when Minho tugs Taemin off the dance floor. “Don’t you think you’ve have too much to drink?” Minho asks when they’re standing near the exit.
Taemin has one finger plugged into his right ear. “Don’t be a hypocrite, Hyung! Isn’t it funny that you can do whatever you want, yet you still baby me?”
Minho frowns, his handsome face unreadable under the dim lights. “Don’t say ‘it’s funny.’ That’s passive aggressive. Just tell me if something bothers you.”
Taemin’s eyes flash, and he can no longer blame the feeling in the pit of his stomach on the alcohol. He shoots forward to knock Minho back against the nearest wall, kissing Minho with enough force that he feels the both of them slump against the wall a little. “What bothers me is that you can have anyone you want. So why? Why not me?” Taemin says when he pulls away.
Minho is staring at him, eyes wide, but Taemin is already moving back into the crowd.
He wakes up the next day in Donghae’s apartment, both Donghae and Eunhyuk laughing as they throw a bottle of water at Taemin. Taemin just frowns, stumbling into the bathroom to glare into the mirror. His eyes burn, and Taemin has a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that he kissed Minho last night.
Taemin doesn’t remember much of what happened after his fourth round of tequila, but he distinctly remembers arguing with Minho at some other point in the night before following his dance club hyungs home. He sits on the edge of the bath tub with his face in his hands before Donghae takes them out to brunch.
Taemin doesn’t know where his phone is, but he does find his wallet in time for Donghae to drag them to the pancake place on campus. Taemin is waiting in line when he finds Kibum across the diner, waving adamantly at him.
“I heard you had an interesting night,” Kibum says when Taemin walks over. He slides Taemin’s phone across the table.
“Where did you find this?” Taemin asks behind a yawn.
Kibum shrugs. “Minho gave it to me. I think he was looking for you. I don’t know why things are so complicated between the two of you. It doesn’t have to be.”
It doesn’t have to be, Taemin thinks.
Minho is clad in a t-shirt and track pants when Taemin returns. “Walk with me,” he says, nodding towards the door, and Taemin can only follow him wordlessly. They stroll around the neighborhood in the warm July evening. Taemin finds the situation odd. There is a mixture of fear, caution, and a whole lack of decision about it.
“Why do you like me?” Minho asks at last, hands tucked in his pockets as he turns to look at Taemin. When Taemin doesn’t reply, he adds, “You don’t want to try anything with me, I promise. Nothing will come of it.”
“Why?” Taemin asks, unexpectedly angry. “How can you say that? How can you call it a failure before even trying? Am I so unimportant to you that you’ve already deemed me a waste of your time?”
Minho just looks at him, eyes tired. “Of course you’re important. I just don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry, Taemin-ah.” He pulls Taemin into a half hug, and they stay like this, Minho with one arm wrapped around Taemin’s shoulder as they walk home in the setting sun.
The flickering street lights make everything seem different, more peaceful. To Taemin, though, Minho’s words still sting with rejection.
Minho avoids the apartment for a few days, as if giving Taemin room to breath. He comes back one afternoon to find Taemin lying on his back at one end of the couch, his back curving along the side of the couch as he stares at Minho upside down, hair in his eyes.
“What in the world are you doing?” Minho asks with a small smile.
Taemin hums in response. “Stretching my back.” He yelps when Minho pulls into a head lock, kicking his feet wildly until they both end up on the floor, laughing like maniacs.
It becomes a little easier after that. Not easy, just easier.
Taemin goes home in August, relinquishing the last month of his alleged summer vacation. He moves most of his stuff out of Jonghyun’s room, boxes lining one wall of the apartment to carefully separate his belongings from most of Minho and Jonghyun’s. It’s almost cathartic to move out, his house more welcoming than Taemin ever remembered.
Jongin comes over to visit, and they walk to the nearby convenience store to buy a pack of gum. A friend from high school is working at the counter. She waves happily at them and points them to the clearance cart. Taemin and Jongin pool together their cash to buy expired candy bars. On their way out, Taemin grabs a box of hair dye on clearance, just for fun.
They spend two hours dying Taemin’s hair in the bathroom, Taemin sitting on the edge of his bathtub while Jongin works the dye through several layers of Taemin’s hair. They open all the doors and turn the fan on, Taemin reading the back of the box while Jongin complains about the fumes.
“Only you, hyung,” Jongin says while absently wiping dye off Taemin’s forehead. “If I get cancer later on in life, you’re paying for my hospital bills.” He plays with Taemin’s PSP while Taemin showers, raising an eyebrow when Taemin emerges out of the bathroom.
“My towel is red,” Taemin says, squinting in the mirror. His hair is also red.
The new semester starts with Taemin rolling Jongin out of bed for their 8am Performance Theory class. They eat croissants sleepily in the kitchen of their new two-bed room apartment, marveling at how much food their mothers managed to cram into the fridge. Everything really is easier with Jongin around. They take turns sleeping in class while the other takes note, racing across campus together afterwards to fight over the last slice of mushroom and bacon pizza in the dining hall.
Taemin has lunch with Kibum on Wednesdays. Jonghyun joins them sometimes, bickering with Kibum for the majority of the meal until Taemin tells them to flirt later.
“Yah!” Kibum screams, making a threatening gesture with his spoon.
Taemin’s Theater Productions class meets once a week, lasting late into the evening. Taemin usually comes home and passes out on the rug in the kitchen until Jongin comes in and prods him with bags of chips. It’s a safe and comfortable routine for Taemin, and he focuses most of his energy into maintaining this newfound productivity.
“My birthday is soon,” Kibum says one day. “I’m having a party and you’re coming. Oh, and bring your little friend.”
Taemin tells Jongin that it will probably just be a house party at Kibum’s place, and that they can bail after the obligatory shots with the birthday boy. Instead, Kibum books an entire club for the night and sends out the dress code a week in advance.
“Hyung,” Jongin complains as they’re ushered into the club, clad in black and white. They laugh upon finding Kibum. The birthday boy is, of course, dressed in red. Jongin is whisked off by a group of noonas when Taemin takes his eyes off him.
When Taemin goes to rescue Jongin, he runs into a line of people demanding to take shots with him, and Jonghyun is pouring him vodka before Taemin can complain. Taemin thinks that his alcohol tolerance has probably gotten better, since Kibum is already red in the face.
Taemin finds Jongin standing awkwardly with a group of girls as they tug him towards the dance floor. Taemin laughs and joins them, and Jongin finally starts dancing once Taemin does. They’re swallowed by the crowd of people for a while before Jonghyun comes over to grab at Taemin.
“I hired strippers, but they’re late,” Jonghyun screams into Taemin’s ear. He points wildly at the bar and looks at Taemin. “So go entertain the crowd before they get there!”
“Are you kidding?” Taemin screams back over the music.
“It’s Kibum’s birthday!” Jonghyun gives him a look, shoving a can of beer at Taemin’s chest.
Taemin chugs the can before making his way to the bar, followed by his own entourage. Jongin helps him climb onto the bar, and the music suddenly changes into something hypnotic as the strobe lights come out. Taemin just laughs, dancing while the girls cheer. Someone screams out in glee, and before Taemin knows it, girls are waving dollar bills at him, crowding around the bar area while Kibum hoots at him, clapping his hands wildly.
Next to Kibum is a wide eyed Minho.
When Taemin finally jumps off the bar with the help of Jongin, he is pulled into a million head locks by the hyungs. Jonghyun collects all of the dollar bills thrown at Taemin and orders everyone another round of shots, but not before Kibum comes around and demand that they drink to their friendship.
“Don’t you think he’s had too many?” Jongin asks, steadying Taemin as Taemin slumps against him, face buried in Jongin’s shoulder.
“Then you drink for him!” Kibum says, handing Jongin the shot.
Jongin never gets a chance to, because Minho instantly grabs the shot and downs it.
Kibum, even while intoxicated, is still fiercely protective of Taemin. “Don’t do stuff like that!” He jabs a finger at Minho’s chest. “Stop coming to Taemin’s rescue if you’re not going to date him! You don’t impress me! You don’t impress any-” He’s cut off when Jonghyun drags him away, making apologetic gestures at Minho.
Minho turns to Jongin. “Can I have a moment alone with Taemin?”
Jongin looks around them uncomfortably. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I promise not to take advantage of your friend.” Minho says, smiling when Jongin finally pushes a wobbly Taemin towards Minho. He gently tugs Taemin through the crowd of people, Taemin’s face pressed against the back of Minho’s right shoulder the entire time. When they’re seated on the steps outside of the club, Minho sets Taemin upright and says, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Taemin murmurs back, hiding under his messy bangs.
“I think we should talk,” Minho begins to say.
“Kibum-hyung is right,” Taemin cuts in. “You shouldn’t do things for me if you’re not interested in me. Stop confusing me.”
“Why do you like me?” Minho asks again, very carefully.
Taemin has been thinking about the answer to this question for a while, their conversation from July replaying in his head. “Because,” Taemin starts to say, slightly exasperated. “because you’re strong-willed and focused and impossibly kind. You do all these things without expecting anything in return. Sometimes you make me so happy, but other times you’re so unfair I just-”
Minho chooses then to kiss him, his mouth tasting of citrus and vodka. He cups Taemin’s chin with both hands while Taemin fists the front of Minho’s dress shirt. There’s something unreal about kissing Minho, like an eerie calmness awaiting a monumental revelation. Taemin’s mouth moves instinctively, teeth meeting the bottom of Minho’s lips.
“It’s not that I don’t want to try,” Minho says when they pull apart, lips bruised. “I’m just terrified at the prospect of us not working.”
“You’re so afraid of not being with me in the long run that you can’t even bring yourself to try in the short run?” Taemin asks.
“You’re the unfair one,” Minho murmurs into Taemin’s neck, running a hand through Taemin’s scarlet locks. “Acting like you’ve stopped caring only to show up like this and dance on that bar.” Minho is kissing up the side of Taemin’s neck when he is pushed away.
“Say it,” Taemin whispers, grin on face.
“Say what?”
“Say it,” Taemin repeats. “You know what I want to hear.”
“Yes, yes.” Minho squeezes his hand. “Yes, I want you too.”
They sit like that for a while, smiling themselves silly before heading back inside, fingers entwined.
They’re making out on Minho’s kitchen table one day when Jonghyun throws a jacket at them.
“Stop being gross,” Jonghyun says, grabbing a bottle of water as he eyes them suspiciously. “And for the love of god, I eat on there.”
Taemin laughs into Minho’s shoulder, because they’ve had the same conversation elsewhere: at Taemin’s apartment with a scowling Jongin and in the library while Kibum threatens to cut them with his bookmark. Being with Minho is still surreal at times, but there’s something infectious about the way Minho smiles, and it’s as if Taemin has forgotten how not to be happy.
Taemin is heading home from class one day, flipping through the notes he just took, when he runs into someone and drops his stuff, loose leaf flying everywhere. When he looks up, Minho is smiling as he leans down to help Taemin pick things up.
“You might not remember this,” Minho begins to say, “but I still remember the first time I saw you in this building…”
fin
In case anyone was confused. Jongin = Kai from EXO. Also, mousapelli's comment to me was "I guess my only complaint is, after waiting so long to see them hook up, we don't even get to see them go to bed the first time?" crying
Love it? Hate it? Please leave some feedback, even if it may be a little late. You can also join the community, since I'll be locking up NC17 fics.
Fandom: SHINee, EXO, SM
Author: chiharu
Characters/pairing: Taemin/Minho
Rating: PG
wordcount: ~6,100
Summary: Taemin has a seriously bad case of hero worship until it turns into something that even he can't handle. College!AU. For minniecouture
For minniecouture, because apparently I don't write enough 2min (So not true-> Exhibit A). I also threw some of Kai in here, just for your BB. I kept getting stuck in this fic and had to watch 2min videos on youtube. No lies. I also just wanted red hair!Taemin again. Thank you mousapelli for betaing!
Last night, I had a dream about you, Taemin wants to say when he sees Minho in the dining hall. Minho is smiling brilliantly as he sits with his friends. When the pretty brunette next to him says something, Minho laughs, the back of his right hand hovering just above his chin as he hides his amusement.
Taemin’s throat burns, so he tears his eyes away from the scene and walks back to his table. The entirety of the dance club is there, laughing as Donghae makes a joke about his food. His best friends are sitting in front him, yet Taemin would give the world to be near Minho at this moment. Taemin would give the world to have Minho look at him.
He meets Minho in October. Taemin is haphazardly stuffing his exam into his messenger bag when the strap snaps. He loses half of his notes, sheets of loose leaf folded carefully into the pages of his soft cover text book sliding effortlessly out. Taemin is tired, his back aching from hours of dance practice. He skipped lunch in order to pick up his horribly mediocre exam from the t.a., and now the entire contents of his bag is on the floor. He could be eating lunch, but instead he is here. As Taemin attempts to shove everything back into the bag, he realizes that the cap of his gel pen has snapped in half. Suddenly he is so, so upset.
Taemin thinks it would be much easier to rip his notes in half, but all of a sudden someone is kneeling down in front of him, helping him pick up the papers. The stranger hands Taemin his spiral notebook and gives Taemin a reassuring pat on the back, squeezing Taemin’s shoulder in the process. When he finishes collecting all of Taemin’s belongings off the floor, the boy offers him a smile and walks away.
Taemin can’t remember if he even said thank you as he watches the boy’s friend jog up to him a few feet away, going, “Let go Minho! We’re late!”
When Taemin finally makes it to lunch, Jongin asks if everything is alright. Taemin doesn’t know how to explain that this stranger, Minho, is the only one who kept him from bursting into tears in the middle of the hallway.
Taemin sees Minho a few weeks later. Minho is talking to a friend as he pushes a bicycle by the handlebars along the sidewalk. It is November and Minho’s coat is a dark green color, the sleeves rolled up to reveal bright red bandages, a sure sign that Minho has just donated in the blood drive. Taemin watches as Minho bids his friend goodbye at the next crosswalk. Taemin wants to jog up to him, wants to thank Minho, but suddenly Minho is mounting on his bike and riding away.
Taemin’s life would have been so much easier if it ended there.
Taemin develops an excellent radar for Minho after that. He spots Minho in the library, tucked between the western literature aisles, Minho’s back lined against the row of books as he sits, his legs spread out while he peruses through a hard cover.
He finds Minho in the coffee shop, seated near the back as Minho types into his laptop, occasionally cross referencing the notes laid out in front of him.
He notices when Minho jogs pass him every Tuesday morning as Taemin walks to his classes. They always cross paths near the bridge overpass. Taemin times their encounters in his mind, counting down the seconds until he catches sight of the familiar boy in track pants. Taemin counts the seconds, minutes, and hours he spends thinking about Minho every day and then promptly forgets Minho’s existence while he loses himself in the flurry of school work and dance rehearsals. Then, like clockwork, he thinks about Minho again, and the cycle repeats.
Taemin has stumbled upon Minho countless times, words of gratitude on the tip of his tongue. Yet Taemin never approaches Minho, for fear that something will end if he finally speaks.
Taemin thinks he developed this habit of hero worshiping early on in life, eternally thankful for anyone who ever showed him compassion. It doesn’t help that he was always too small, too feminine, and too quiet. Kibum was the first one to acknowledge it, perched on the sidewalk of the drama building on that warm September night. “You don’t have to thank me so much,” Kibum had said, standing up to dust his jeans. “If anyone ever harasses you again, just kick them in the face.”
Kibum had acted as if interrupting a group of inebriated upperclassmen as they catcalled at Taemin was nothing. Kibum had watched the entire scene unfold in the dark before telling the men to get lost, because they were interrupting the drama department from building their set for the play. The entire scene dispersed rather anticlimactically when Kibum threatened to call the campus police, ignoring the way he was pointedly flipped off.
“You shouldn’t walk around by yourself this late at night,” Kibum had replied when Taemin explained that he was on his way to Mister Donut for a midnight snack. “Come in and help us build our set. I’ll feed you pizza.”
Taemin had been sold right there, a plateful of pizza stuffed into his hands as Kibum’s friends gathered around Taemin, showing him more interest than Taemin’s entire dorm had in his first month of starting college. Kibum initiated him fast enough, assigning Taemin work to do.
Taemin had returned the next day, and the day after that.
In the spring, Taemin becomes the prop master for their semester musical. Kibum laughs and tells him not to become drunk with power, handing him the inventory list. Kibum leaves when the student director calls the cast away, and Taemin is left with his own army of bright-eyed first years ready to hammer away.
“Why did they assign you the position?” Jongin asks during dance practice, helping Taemin stretch as they rehearse for the showcase. “It’s not like you don’t have enough on your plate, what with the set building, dancing, and stalking-”
“I’m not stalking him!” Taemin says, immediately denying the accusation with waving hands.
“Hyung,” Jongin says, never having gotten to bring himself to drop the formalities even after skipping a year. He makes a face at Taemin, and Taemin puffs his cheeks up like a gold fish. They have a good laugh about it until Donghae barks at them to stop flirting and start dancing.
Taemin spends the rest of that semester alternating between the drama department and the dance studios, ironically located on opposite ends of campus. He makes legendary dashes across grounds approximately 2.5 times a day, bags of props in his arms as he shuffles from mixing dance tracks to mixing paint.
It figures that when he does run into Minho again, it’s with enough force to knock the both of them down. Taemin’s jeans are covered in Mod Podge and glue, his hair impossibly messy from hours of dancing. Taemin is busy picking up his stuff when he realizes how familiar this situation is.
“You seem to be in a hurry,” Minho says, good-natured, as he holds out the open suitcase packed with stacks of fake paper money Taemin just made.
Taemin opens his mouth, only to close it again. He wants to say something clever, but Minho is already pulling him up and handing most of Taemin’s stuff back to him. Minho is walking away before Taemin can bring himself to shout “Thank you!”
“What’s wrong with you?” Krystal asks when Taemin finally shows up. Taemin takes one look at the electric saw in Krystal’s hand and promptly remembers that his shipment of plywood is coming in today, effectively forgetting about his previous encounter.
The show comes faster than Taemin expects, but the crew manages to finish every fixture of the set and put every prop in place within hours on the opening night. During the show, he shares drinks with the rest of the crew, sitting on the antique chest for act 3.
“Come to the cast party afterwards,” Jino insists, dressed in all black. He’s on stage duty for tonight with Krystal, despite the fact that Krystal can’t stop complaining about her sister in the cast.
Taemin hums, stretching. They’re interrupted when Tiffany, the costumes director, runs into the hallway to complain about a lost rack of costumes for act 2. Taemin spends five good minutes calming Tiffany down before they find the said rack in a closet with a guilty looking Luna and Jinki.
He gets dragged to the cast party regardless. Tiffany insists on introducing him to the rest of the cast, and Taemin is listening to Jessica and Kibum joke about Jonghyun tripping on stage when a familiar face joins their conversation.
“This is Choi Minho, by the way,” Yuri explains with some humor in her eyes.
“We also live together,” Jonghyun supplies.
“This is Taeminnie,” Kibum explains, pulling Taemin into a possessive grip. Tiffany insists on hugging Taemin too, and suddenly Taemin finds himself squeezed in the middle of a group hug while an amused Minho watches.
“We’ve met before,” Minho says with a smile.
With the musical selling out and the dance club taking home second place at the regional showcase, Taemin supposes he’s had a rather successful semester. That is, until he sees his chemistry grade two weeks before finals.
“I’m failing?” Taemin asks, perhaps a little louder than necessary, when he finally looks up from his interim transcript.
“Failed,” his T.A. corrects. “Past tense. You won’t get above a C- even if you do better on the Final. I would recommend that you withdraw from the course right now and retake it next semester.”
Taemin frowns. “I don’t have time in my schedule next semester.”
His T.A. looks unimpressed, busy flipping through another stack of papers. “Then I suggest that you take it over the summer.”
Taemin thinks about his words as he shares the news with Kibum over dinner. “My parents will be so disappointed. And where would I even stay for the summer?” He sighs into his soup.
Kibum gives him a pitying look. “I don’t know about the first question, but if you need a place to stay, I know Jjong is trying to sublease his apartment for the summer.”
Jonghyun’s apartment, Taemin thinks. The one he shares with Minho.
Jonghyun seems enthusiastic about the idea. “Really, I was starting to think no one would sublease from me,” he says while taking Taemin on a mini tour of the apartment, a small town house with two rooms on the second floor. He leans back against the kitchen counter, a welcoming sight from Taemin’s first year dorm. “Rent’s not bad because I share with Minho, plus electricity and water are covered. Also, you can use my furniture and anything in my room. It’s a good deal, you should take it.”
“He’s only saying that because he can’t find anyone else.” Minho walks into the kitchen at that moment, grabbing a carton of milk from the fridge. “That’s what happens when you sign a year round lease without planning to stay for a year.”
“Hey!” Jonghyun protests. “At least I have a real job for the summer.”
“Internship, hyung,” Minho corrects. He turns to Taemin afterwards. “I’ll be here for the summer too, and I promise to be clean. How about it?” He grins when Taemin nods, but Jonghyun is the one who hugs Taemin instead.
“Good job, hyung,” Jongin says when Taemin tells him the news. “Now you won’t have to long for him from afar anymore.” Jongin laughs when Taemin shakes him. They push and shove each other for a bit before Jongin deflates. “I wish I could stay here for the summer too.”
“I wish you could stay with me too,” Taemin admits, sighing as he helps Jongin pack. Things are always easier with Jongin around, but Taemin knows he’s lucky enough just to have his childhood friend attend the same university, so he tries not to be greedy while sending Jongin off.
Moving his own stuff to the apartment is another story. Kibum takes pity on Taemin and helps him carry the lighter stuff. When they stumble into the apartment with an armful of boxes, Minho insists on helping too. The three of them finish the job within thirty minutes, rolling on the floor in the air conditioning afterwards while sharing Jonghyun’s left over soda.
Kibum leaves a little bit later, and Taemin sees him off at the train station. “I’ll be back in July for the regional thespian conference,” he says while they wait for his train. “You’ll be fine here with Minho, right?” He pauses when Taemin flushes red. “Hey, hey. There’s something I have to tell you, though.”
Taemin blinks at him.
“No matter what you do,” Kibum says slowly, “don’t fall in love with Minho.”
Taemin digests the words slowly on his way back to the apartment. Kibum was always quick on the uptake, but Taemin shakes the thought out of his head when he finds Minho playing the PS3 in the living room. They play COD the rest of the night, ordering pizza and laughing when the delivery boy gives them odd looks.
Taemin gets a part time job working at the library over the summer. He attends class in the mornings, works in the afternoon, and comes back to the apartment around the same time as Minho every day. Minho seems to be involved in every intramural sport possible, usually returning in the evening, sweaty but content. They eat breakfast together in the mornings, Minho laughing at the weird selection of jams Taemin puts on his toast. At night, they order takeout more frequently than necessary, alternating between gaming and watching movies until Taemin retreats to do his homework.
Minho goes out at night multiple times a week, but he’s usually composed when returning early in the morning, grinning at a sleepy Taemin. On those days, he makes breakfast for Taemin and watches as Taemin picks through his omelet, always declining on the pretense of being hung over when Taemin offers him food.
Taemin doesn’t know what Minho’s night time activates are like, but he’s satisfied in simply knowing what Minho is like in real life.
Two weeks into their cohabitation, Taemin forgets his Chemistry book and runs home ten minutes after leaving. He finds Yuri sitting in the kitchen in nothing but Minho’s t-shirt and drinking milk from Minho’s mug. She looks startled at first but greets Taemin regardless, her hair tousled and her cheeks glowing.
Minho comes out of the shower a minute later. “Back already?” He blinks at Taemin.
“I’m late!” Taemin manages to say before rushing out. Taemin spends the rest of the day in the library. He forgets the protocols on returning DVDs and re-shelves half of the cart wrong, hiding in the library even after his shift.
When he finally comes back to the apartment, Yuri is already gone, and Minho is making dinner for once. He nods for Taemin to sit down at small square table in the kitchen as he scoops rice into Taemin’s bowl. “Where were you?”
“I picked up an extra shift,” Taemin lies, staring at his rice.
“Eh, okay,” Minho says.
“Are you dating Yuri-noona?” Taemin asks at last, voice small.
Minho grins sheepishly at him, running a hand through his bangs. “Yeah. Kind of. Sorry for not warning you.”
Things go back to normal after that. Taemin thinks it’s inevitable; he never expected anything but friendship to come out of this, and he blames himself a little for believing otherwise. Minho treats Taemin partly as a roommate and partly as a kid. They talk about Minho’s nightly escapades with his hyungs, and Taemin is somewhat relieved to know that Minho mostly just humors his hyungs and calls them cabs. The Yuri incident doesn’t repeat itself, but sometimes Minho comes home smelling of perfume.
Taemin signs up for the crew of a summer production at the local theater. Bringing home random props is familiar and comforting, and Minho watches while Taemin makes pieces of the set in their apartment, Taemin clad in an impossibly large t-shirt as he warns Minho from stepping on his equipment. Minho laughs when Taemin gets paint smeared on his face, and they fight over the paint brush until half a can of Yellow 453 spills on Jonghyun’s carpet.
They spend the rest of the day cleaning up, elbows deep in bleach while they scrub away at the carpet. Taemin opens the windows on the first floor when the fumes gets too bad, laughing when Minho throws a sponge at him. Later, Minho helps Taemin wash paint out of his hair over the sink, Minho’s fingers working gentle circles on Taemin’s scalp.
“Hyung,” Taemin says, peering up at Minho. Suddenly he feels brave. “Why don’t you bring Yuri-noona over more?”
Minho gives him a small smile as he towel-dries Taemin’s hair. “I’m not really…dating Yuri.”
“Minho isn’t dating Yuri,” Kibum says when Taemin retells the story later. “Minho doesn’t date anyone.”
“Oh,” Taemin says.
One day the electricity goes out after a summer storm. Taemin and Minho eat their way through all the perishables in the fridge and play cards in the candle light. The air conditioning is also gone, so Minho suggest that they blow up the air mattress and leave all the windows open.
“Let’s not.” Taemin makes a face, trying to escape up stairs. “That’s when the serial killers come out.” The second floor is not at all unlike an oven, Taemin tossing and turning in his bed until he finally gives up and joins Minho downstairs.
Taemin wakes up the next morning, face pressed against Minho’s left arm. Minho just laughs, mouth wide, when Taemin tries to pry away. Minho pulls Taemin into a hug and rolls him over until they both fall off the air mattress. “Looks like serial killers prefer air conditioning too,” Minho says, smiling up close, and Taemin can’t help but smile back.
Taemin takes a midterm for his summer session mid-June. He spends hours sitting in the living room, chemistry textbooks and notes spread across the floor as he attempts to memorize chemical bonds and molecular structures, the side of his index finger callused from writing with his pencil for so long. He’s halfway through chapter five when Minho returns with a girl in tow.
“You’re home already?” Minho asks, first thing, as he pulls his companion towards him by the hand.
Taemin bites back his sarcasm and says, “My exam is tonight. No classes today.” He looks back down at his notes when the girl whispers something into Minho’s ear. Taemin remembers Minho saying that they’ll be upstairs. When Taemin looks up again, he hears the door to Minho’s room close.
Choi Minho, Taemin thinks to himself. Simultaneously the world’s greatest hyung and biggest asshole. Who also looks great in his dress shirt from last night, judging from the smeared make-up on his female companion’s face. Taemin thinks about the full size bed in Minho’s room before gathering his studying material and heading for the library, vowing to never take Minho’s smiles and open affection personally ever again.
Everyone floods back onto campus in early July, ready for midsummer celebrations and a weekend of partying. Taemin returns from work one day to find Jonghyun and Kibum seated in the living room, fighting over the remote control. On the counter is an impressive selection of alcohol and mixers.
“I’m not going to take your bed,” Jonghyun says, grinning. “But I might crash on the couch for the weekend.” When he finds Taemin staring at the alcohol, Jonghyun adds, “the plan is for us to host on Friday and to go clubbing on Saturday. You’ll be joining us, right?”
“Us” turns out to be half of the drama department and some of Minho’s teammates.
Taemin navigates his way around the apartment on Friday, careful to not step on any toes as people crowd around the living room and the hallways, Jonghyun’s music selection blasting uncomfortably loud in Taemin’s ears. He spends a good while chatting with Jinki before finding Minho in the kitchen, laughing as he serves drinks to a whole row of girls.
Taemin does a 360 out of the kitchen, only to run into Yuri with her arms folded in the hallway, a bottle of soju in hand. She’s friendly with Taemin, greeting him and asking him about his summer. “Have you had anything to drink?” she asks, handing him her own bottle and shrugging when Taemin declines.
“How’s Minho?” Yuri asks.
“Shouldn’t you know better than me?” Taemin replies before he can stop himself.
Yuri gives Taemin an unreadable look. “I could ask him myself, but that would imply that I care, and Minho usually bails when people start caring.” Their shoulders touch, leaning identically against the wall while simultaneous watching a group of people play beer pong in the living room.
When the weight of Yuri’s words sink in, Taemin ask, “Noona, do you love-”
“No,” Yuri cuts in, turning to give Taemin a small smile as she knocks on her own head playfully. “I know better than that. Minho is impossibly kind and a gentlemen through and through, but he only knows how to break hearts, not mend them.”
Taemin thinks about their conversation after that, even after Yuri leaves, and when Minho’s door is shut for the rest of the night. Taemin sits on the front porch after throwing out the trash, a gash on the palm of his right hand from cutting himself on a broken soju bottle while cleaning up after the party.
“Here,” Kibum says, joining him on the porch as he tends to Taemin’s cut. He looks up when Taemin winces. “What did you and Yuri talk about?” When Taemin doesn’t reply, he gives Taemin’s arm a little squeeze. “I shouldn’t have warned you about Minho without explaining anything, sorry.”
Taemin is quiet for a minute. “Even if he won’t love me, I still want him.”
“I’m sorry,” Kibum just says.
On Saturday night, Kyuhyun and Changmin take a group of them bar hopping. Jonghyun disappears within the crowd early on in the night, and by the time they hit the fourth bar, it’s just Taemin and Minho following Kyuhyun and Changmin, cash at hand as they order more shots. Minho begins to take the shots for Taemin, but after a while even Taemin gets fed up of his chivalry.
“I’m not a girl,” Taemin says. He takes the next couple of shots straight, the tequila burning in the back of his throat. He pauses when someone familiar steps into his field of view.
It’s Donghae, Eunhyuk, and the majority of their dance club. “Taemnnie! I didn’t know you were here!” Donghae yells, grabbing Taemin towards the dance floor. “This is our jam! We have to dance to this!”
Taemin ends up in the middle of a circle as he pops on the dance floor, his vision swimming and his hair obstructing the view as he glides under the flashing neon lights. His friends hoot at him while Taemin moves to the music, his necklace flying everywhere. Taemin laughs when other people join in, and suddenly he is dancing with a girl who looks much more intoxicated than Taemin himself.
The girl has her arms wrapped around his neck when Minho tugs Taemin off the dance floor. “Don’t you think you’ve have too much to drink?” Minho asks when they’re standing near the exit.
Taemin has one finger plugged into his right ear. “Don’t be a hypocrite, Hyung! Isn’t it funny that you can do whatever you want, yet you still baby me?”
Minho frowns, his handsome face unreadable under the dim lights. “Don’t say ‘it’s funny.’ That’s passive aggressive. Just tell me if something bothers you.”
Taemin’s eyes flash, and he can no longer blame the feeling in the pit of his stomach on the alcohol. He shoots forward to knock Minho back against the nearest wall, kissing Minho with enough force that he feels the both of them slump against the wall a little. “What bothers me is that you can have anyone you want. So why? Why not me?” Taemin says when he pulls away.
Minho is staring at him, eyes wide, but Taemin is already moving back into the crowd.
He wakes up the next day in Donghae’s apartment, both Donghae and Eunhyuk laughing as they throw a bottle of water at Taemin. Taemin just frowns, stumbling into the bathroom to glare into the mirror. His eyes burn, and Taemin has a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes that he kissed Minho last night.
Taemin doesn’t remember much of what happened after his fourth round of tequila, but he distinctly remembers arguing with Minho at some other point in the night before following his dance club hyungs home. He sits on the edge of the bath tub with his face in his hands before Donghae takes them out to brunch.
Taemin doesn’t know where his phone is, but he does find his wallet in time for Donghae to drag them to the pancake place on campus. Taemin is waiting in line when he finds Kibum across the diner, waving adamantly at him.
“I heard you had an interesting night,” Kibum says when Taemin walks over. He slides Taemin’s phone across the table.
“Where did you find this?” Taemin asks behind a yawn.
Kibum shrugs. “Minho gave it to me. I think he was looking for you. I don’t know why things are so complicated between the two of you. It doesn’t have to be.”
It doesn’t have to be, Taemin thinks.
Minho is clad in a t-shirt and track pants when Taemin returns. “Walk with me,” he says, nodding towards the door, and Taemin can only follow him wordlessly. They stroll around the neighborhood in the warm July evening. Taemin finds the situation odd. There is a mixture of fear, caution, and a whole lack of decision about it.
“Why do you like me?” Minho asks at last, hands tucked in his pockets as he turns to look at Taemin. When Taemin doesn’t reply, he adds, “You don’t want to try anything with me, I promise. Nothing will come of it.”
“Why?” Taemin asks, unexpectedly angry. “How can you say that? How can you call it a failure before even trying? Am I so unimportant to you that you’ve already deemed me a waste of your time?”
Minho just looks at him, eyes tired. “Of course you’re important. I just don’t think I can do it. I’m sorry, Taemin-ah.” He pulls Taemin into a half hug, and they stay like this, Minho with one arm wrapped around Taemin’s shoulder as they walk home in the setting sun.
The flickering street lights make everything seem different, more peaceful. To Taemin, though, Minho’s words still sting with rejection.
Minho avoids the apartment for a few days, as if giving Taemin room to breath. He comes back one afternoon to find Taemin lying on his back at one end of the couch, his back curving along the side of the couch as he stares at Minho upside down, hair in his eyes.
“What in the world are you doing?” Minho asks with a small smile.
Taemin hums in response. “Stretching my back.” He yelps when Minho pulls into a head lock, kicking his feet wildly until they both end up on the floor, laughing like maniacs.
It becomes a little easier after that. Not easy, just easier.
Taemin goes home in August, relinquishing the last month of his alleged summer vacation. He moves most of his stuff out of Jonghyun’s room, boxes lining one wall of the apartment to carefully separate his belongings from most of Minho and Jonghyun’s. It’s almost cathartic to move out, his house more welcoming than Taemin ever remembered.
Jongin comes over to visit, and they walk to the nearby convenience store to buy a pack of gum. A friend from high school is working at the counter. She waves happily at them and points them to the clearance cart. Taemin and Jongin pool together their cash to buy expired candy bars. On their way out, Taemin grabs a box of hair dye on clearance, just for fun.
They spend two hours dying Taemin’s hair in the bathroom, Taemin sitting on the edge of his bathtub while Jongin works the dye through several layers of Taemin’s hair. They open all the doors and turn the fan on, Taemin reading the back of the box while Jongin complains about the fumes.
“Only you, hyung,” Jongin says while absently wiping dye off Taemin’s forehead. “If I get cancer later on in life, you’re paying for my hospital bills.” He plays with Taemin’s PSP while Taemin showers, raising an eyebrow when Taemin emerges out of the bathroom.
“My towel is red,” Taemin says, squinting in the mirror. His hair is also red.
The new semester starts with Taemin rolling Jongin out of bed for their 8am Performance Theory class. They eat croissants sleepily in the kitchen of their new two-bed room apartment, marveling at how much food their mothers managed to cram into the fridge. Everything really is easier with Jongin around. They take turns sleeping in class while the other takes note, racing across campus together afterwards to fight over the last slice of mushroom and bacon pizza in the dining hall.
Taemin has lunch with Kibum on Wednesdays. Jonghyun joins them sometimes, bickering with Kibum for the majority of the meal until Taemin tells them to flirt later.
“Yah!” Kibum screams, making a threatening gesture with his spoon.
Taemin’s Theater Productions class meets once a week, lasting late into the evening. Taemin usually comes home and passes out on the rug in the kitchen until Jongin comes in and prods him with bags of chips. It’s a safe and comfortable routine for Taemin, and he focuses most of his energy into maintaining this newfound productivity.
“My birthday is soon,” Kibum says one day. “I’m having a party and you’re coming. Oh, and bring your little friend.”
Taemin tells Jongin that it will probably just be a house party at Kibum’s place, and that they can bail after the obligatory shots with the birthday boy. Instead, Kibum books an entire club for the night and sends out the dress code a week in advance.
“Hyung,” Jongin complains as they’re ushered into the club, clad in black and white. They laugh upon finding Kibum. The birthday boy is, of course, dressed in red. Jongin is whisked off by a group of noonas when Taemin takes his eyes off him.
When Taemin goes to rescue Jongin, he runs into a line of people demanding to take shots with him, and Jonghyun is pouring him vodka before Taemin can complain. Taemin thinks that his alcohol tolerance has probably gotten better, since Kibum is already red in the face.
Taemin finds Jongin standing awkwardly with a group of girls as they tug him towards the dance floor. Taemin laughs and joins them, and Jongin finally starts dancing once Taemin does. They’re swallowed by the crowd of people for a while before Jonghyun comes over to grab at Taemin.
“I hired strippers, but they’re late,” Jonghyun screams into Taemin’s ear. He points wildly at the bar and looks at Taemin. “So go entertain the crowd before they get there!”
“Are you kidding?” Taemin screams back over the music.
“It’s Kibum’s birthday!” Jonghyun gives him a look, shoving a can of beer at Taemin’s chest.
Taemin chugs the can before making his way to the bar, followed by his own entourage. Jongin helps him climb onto the bar, and the music suddenly changes into something hypnotic as the strobe lights come out. Taemin just laughs, dancing while the girls cheer. Someone screams out in glee, and before Taemin knows it, girls are waving dollar bills at him, crowding around the bar area while Kibum hoots at him, clapping his hands wildly.
Next to Kibum is a wide eyed Minho.
When Taemin finally jumps off the bar with the help of Jongin, he is pulled into a million head locks by the hyungs. Jonghyun collects all of the dollar bills thrown at Taemin and orders everyone another round of shots, but not before Kibum comes around and demand that they drink to their friendship.
“Don’t you think he’s had too many?” Jongin asks, steadying Taemin as Taemin slumps against him, face buried in Jongin’s shoulder.
“Then you drink for him!” Kibum says, handing Jongin the shot.
Jongin never gets a chance to, because Minho instantly grabs the shot and downs it.
Kibum, even while intoxicated, is still fiercely protective of Taemin. “Don’t do stuff like that!” He jabs a finger at Minho’s chest. “Stop coming to Taemin’s rescue if you’re not going to date him! You don’t impress me! You don’t impress any-” He’s cut off when Jonghyun drags him away, making apologetic gestures at Minho.
Minho turns to Jongin. “Can I have a moment alone with Taemin?”
Jongin looks around them uncomfortably. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“I promise not to take advantage of your friend.” Minho says, smiling when Jongin finally pushes a wobbly Taemin towards Minho. He gently tugs Taemin through the crowd of people, Taemin’s face pressed against the back of Minho’s right shoulder the entire time. When they’re seated on the steps outside of the club, Minho sets Taemin upright and says, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Taemin murmurs back, hiding under his messy bangs.
“I think we should talk,” Minho begins to say.
“Kibum-hyung is right,” Taemin cuts in. “You shouldn’t do things for me if you’re not interested in me. Stop confusing me.”
“Why do you like me?” Minho asks again, very carefully.
Taemin has been thinking about the answer to this question for a while, their conversation from July replaying in his head. “Because,” Taemin starts to say, slightly exasperated. “because you’re strong-willed and focused and impossibly kind. You do all these things without expecting anything in return. Sometimes you make me so happy, but other times you’re so unfair I just-”
Minho chooses then to kiss him, his mouth tasting of citrus and vodka. He cups Taemin’s chin with both hands while Taemin fists the front of Minho’s dress shirt. There’s something unreal about kissing Minho, like an eerie calmness awaiting a monumental revelation. Taemin’s mouth moves instinctively, teeth meeting the bottom of Minho’s lips.
“It’s not that I don’t want to try,” Minho says when they pull apart, lips bruised. “I’m just terrified at the prospect of us not working.”
“You’re so afraid of not being with me in the long run that you can’t even bring yourself to try in the short run?” Taemin asks.
“You’re the unfair one,” Minho murmurs into Taemin’s neck, running a hand through Taemin’s scarlet locks. “Acting like you’ve stopped caring only to show up like this and dance on that bar.” Minho is kissing up the side of Taemin’s neck when he is pushed away.
“Say it,” Taemin whispers, grin on face.
“Say what?”
“Say it,” Taemin repeats. “You know what I want to hear.”
“Yes, yes.” Minho squeezes his hand. “Yes, I want you too.”
They sit like that for a while, smiling themselves silly before heading back inside, fingers entwined.
They’re making out on Minho’s kitchen table one day when Jonghyun throws a jacket at them.
“Stop being gross,” Jonghyun says, grabbing a bottle of water as he eyes them suspiciously. “And for the love of god, I eat on there.”
Taemin laughs into Minho’s shoulder, because they’ve had the same conversation elsewhere: at Taemin’s apartment with a scowling Jongin and in the library while Kibum threatens to cut them with his bookmark. Being with Minho is still surreal at times, but there’s something infectious about the way Minho smiles, and it’s as if Taemin has forgotten how not to be happy.
Taemin is heading home from class one day, flipping through the notes he just took, when he runs into someone and drops his stuff, loose leaf flying everywhere. When he looks up, Minho is smiling as he leans down to help Taemin pick things up.
“You might not remember this,” Minho begins to say, “but I still remember the first time I saw you in this building…”
fin
In case anyone was confused. Jongin = Kai from EXO. Also, mousapelli's comment to me was "I guess my only complaint is, after waiting so long to see them hook up, we don't even get to see them go to bed the first time?" crying
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