Five Minutes
Title: Five Minutes
Rating: PG(13)
Word-Count: 1,503
Pairing: Kai/Tao
Summary: They say if you survive a fight, your relationship comes out stronger, but perhaps you only postpone the inevitable.
Notice: This is for a competition. I'd appreciate if you considered voting for me.
The furthest distance they could possibly be from each other was ten members. If they lay laterally, and Tao turned his head to the farthest end, Kai would be 2168 cm from him- far enough to block out Tao calling him ‘dark skinned.’ It wouldn’t even be a big deal if Tao stopped making it one, but he deepens the wound every day until his idiotic laugh becomes the skipping track beneath Kai’s mental dance. If only it’d relent for five minutes. Just a moment of silence and Kai could remember what comes next. Instead, Tao’s eyes wrinkle in a snarky smile every time Kai presses his palms to his lids. His bared teeth, the way his body moves, the way he breathes, all make Kai want to gouge his eyes out, and the thing is, Tao won’t feel satisfied unless Kai does it himself. Like any brilliant criminal, he wants to drive him to it and stride away scot-free without looking back once.
He’s just a kid, an innocent, let him be, he only wants your attention because he admires you.
What utter bullshit. Tao needs attention, that’s for sure, but not in the cute 'praise me, hyung' way. Tao's been grappling at Kai’s side since debut because Kai’s the main dancer, the figure head, the star. Maybe Tao doesn’t know what he’s doing, but it is what he’s doing; vying for the most attention, trying to overtake Kai. If Kai is the sun of their solar system, than who wouldn’t be dazzled by the body brilliant enough to put him out?
Perhaps he should be flattered, but it’s driving him insane. Kai hates himself for the silent wishes he makes on the car rides home while Tao kicks the back of his chair like an infant on an airplane, begging for Tao to disappear, to die. He doesn’t mean any of it, he’s just tired. He needs those five minutes. Mere minutes and he could bear it. It seems so trivial, but a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and the bond between Tao and Kai had been strained too long. Yet five minutes could fix it all. Five minutes and the thoughts would untangle, working miracles and restoring their relationship to a step above tolerance. That’s all it ever needed to be. Enough to get them through, enough to not burden the band.
Everything would be fine if they had a little time. But time is a luxury for exo, because there will always be twelve of them, and while it's easier to get lost in the swarm of 12, Tao’s mastered cutting through the crowd only to bother Kai 12 times more in hopes of overcoming anything that might divert his attention. If Kai isn't thinking of Tao on the nights he doesn’t manage to get a shower so the itchy sheets cling to his sweat-slicked back, he's not done his job. And that’s why Kai hates him.
He tries hard to make it work. Kai earnestly puts it off for as long as he can, but something has to take place of those five minutes. Something has to snap like a knuckle, give the satisfying crack and release the tension between them. That’s why it happens.
The boys are moved into one dorm for wolf promotions and Tao sneaks into Kai’s room after dance rehearsals, finding him sprawled out on the floor, trying to release his achy bones and enjoy some peace. It’s absurd how triumphant Tao felt stripping him of that peace. Ever since last month there were no more silent moments in Kai’s life, not with Tao kicking sheets off the bed and giggling when they landed on Kai’s face, or meals being halved by Tao’s greedy fingers. Now sleep got cut short by early morning wake up calls from a frisky dark circled nightmare who found 4 am funny, so inevitably, after his last shackle of sanity gave way, Kai snapped.
“OUT” Kai barked, chucking his shoe at the door. Tao skillfully shielded himself from the projectile with the door, wincing only briefly. He listened for the sound of the sneaker tumbling across the carpet to settle before scuffling into the room anyway.
The rubber shoe caught under the bottom of the door, making his entrance a bit rougher than usual, but Tao maintained his cocky air, turning the trip into a skip. Not that Kai was paying attention. “You tired?” Tao leered, squatting beside Kai on the floor. “I thought you were supposed to be the main dancer. Where’s your stamina, hyung?” The address was biting rather than respectful, as expected from Tao, accompanied by a jab to the ribs.
“Get out.” Kai groaned, right arm slung over his eyes and left swatting sloppily at Tao's pesky hand.
Tao snatched up Kai’s wrist like a baby does a cat’s tail, and Kai bristled not unlike a cat. “What ever happened to ‘please’?” Tao chided. “C’mon, let’s play a game before dinner. I’m boooored.”
Kai tore away and sat up with dark eyes. “I don’t want to play shit, Tao.” He glowered. “I want to sleep. Leave me alone.”
“Aw c’mon.” Tao whined, crawling over Kai. “The sun only just set.” He shoved Kai back to the floor in hopes of initiating a playful tussle, but Kai dropped the adjective and chucked Tao off him, heeling his stomach in the process.
“What the hell?” Tao yelled, clutching his midsection. “What was that for?”
“I said I want to you gone! Entertain your goddamn self.” Kai tried to curl himself away from Tao, but he still hadn't gotten the hint.
“You don’t need to be such a dick about it.” Tao huffed.
“And you don’t need to be such a dick all the time!”
Kai broke.
“I don’t know what you want from me! It’s like you want me to crash and burn. I’m fucking tired, Zitao." He raged, rising along with his voice. "I just want some fucking sleep so I can get up and do this all again tomorrow. You know as well as I do that if I don’t perform well, it’ll weigh down everyone else, including you, so take your personal vendetta somewhere else and quit being so fucking needy already!”
Tao’s insides sunk, so his nose rose snottily to combat his drooping appearance. “You aren’t the center of everything, Jongin.” He mumbled, not meaning it enough to speak up to volume.
“That’s not what I said.” Kai sighed, standing up. “We all need to help each other. Why the hell are you trying to tear me down all the time?”
“I am not!” Tao shot up stubbornly.
“Are too!”
“AM NOT!” Tao pounded the wall, a ring on his finger catching the side of Kai’s Ne-yo poster and tearing the lower right corner clean off. The ripping sound immediately staled Tao from the inside out, Kai staring speechlessly down at his left hand. Tao could feel the glossy crinkled paper against his fist, but it took actually seeing the shredded edge to realize what he’d done.
“I-I’m sorry.” Tao’s voice was meek and horrified because that look on Kai’s face was nothing like upset. It was inflamed, crushed, betrayed. Tao stumbled back and turned away, but Kai caught the crow’s feet forming at the corners of his eyes. They were similar to when he laughed, but now filled with tears, and Kai wondered if mere guilt or an actual comprehension of how much damage he’d done had been the drop that broke the surface tension.
Once Tao’d run out and slammed his bedroom door, Kai kicked the wall. He’s such a kid. He grumbled, leaning back on the lumpy paint.
Just a kid, he reminded himself, and flopped onto the bed in dismay.
There came a knock at the door. “Dinner’s ready!” Suho called.
“I don’t feel well!” Kai shouted back without bothering to turn his face out of the sheets. “Save me something!”
“Alright,” came the simple response, already drifting away.
Finally, Kai got his time alone.
Promotions carried on the next day, but Tao was oddly silent. He still lingered on Kai's coat tails, but said nothing, and avoided getting caught glancing anywhere above his feet. He’s itching to get out of here, Kai notes, and he feels responsible for the discomfort, but he can’t find a time to honestly apologize amidst so much noise and body. How the hell had Tao navigated these crowds so easily? Even now, he somehow made it to the other side of the room to whisper to Luhan, and Kai’d completely lost track of him when they were hustled into two cars waiting to escort them back to the dorms.
Perhaps the ultimate sign of Tao’s stealth was after their second music show win while Kai was out with Taemin celebrating. Kai slunk into the dorm well after midnight with a sly smile, feeling rather smug he’d hung out with friends later than the other members, but something unsettled him. He slowly twisted the doorknob to his room to prevent any clicking disturbance when he opened the door and scanned the room. There, on the wall between the beds, hung his poster, now 4/4ths finished. It was taped up like a five year old's art project, with hundreds of inch long pieces and off edges, but Kai couldn’t help feeling touched. He smoothed out some of the more hideous air bubbles beneath the tape and stifled a laugh. God, Tao. What kind of a mess of a metaphor was this?
But Kai appreciated having his poster back in one whole again, perhaps even more than before.
Rating: PG(13)
Word-Count: 1,503
Pairing: Kai/Tao
Summary: They say if you survive a fight, your relationship comes out stronger, but perhaps you only postpone the inevitable.
Notice: This is for a competition. I'd appreciate if you considered voting for me.
The furthest distance they could possibly be from each other was ten members. If they lay laterally, and Tao turned his head to the farthest end, Kai would be 2168 cm from him- far enough to block out Tao calling him ‘dark skinned.’ It wouldn’t even be a big deal if Tao stopped making it one, but he deepens the wound every day until his idiotic laugh becomes the skipping track beneath Kai’s mental dance. If only it’d relent for five minutes. Just a moment of silence and Kai could remember what comes next. Instead, Tao’s eyes wrinkle in a snarky smile every time Kai presses his palms to his lids. His bared teeth, the way his body moves, the way he breathes, all make Kai want to gouge his eyes out, and the thing is, Tao won’t feel satisfied unless Kai does it himself. Like any brilliant criminal, he wants to drive him to it and stride away scot-free without looking back once.
He’s just a kid, an innocent, let him be, he only wants your attention because he admires you.
What utter bullshit. Tao needs attention, that’s for sure, but not in the cute 'praise me, hyung' way. Tao's been grappling at Kai’s side since debut because Kai’s the main dancer, the figure head, the star. Maybe Tao doesn’t know what he’s doing, but it is what he’s doing; vying for the most attention, trying to overtake Kai. If Kai is the sun of their solar system, than who wouldn’t be dazzled by the body brilliant enough to put him out?
Perhaps he should be flattered, but it’s driving him insane. Kai hates himself for the silent wishes he makes on the car rides home while Tao kicks the back of his chair like an infant on an airplane, begging for Tao to disappear, to die. He doesn’t mean any of it, he’s just tired. He needs those five minutes. Mere minutes and he could bear it. It seems so trivial, but a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, and the bond between Tao and Kai had been strained too long. Yet five minutes could fix it all. Five minutes and the thoughts would untangle, working miracles and restoring their relationship to a step above tolerance. That’s all it ever needed to be. Enough to get them through, enough to not burden the band.
Everything would be fine if they had a little time. But time is a luxury for exo, because there will always be twelve of them, and while it's easier to get lost in the swarm of 12, Tao’s mastered cutting through the crowd only to bother Kai 12 times more in hopes of overcoming anything that might divert his attention. If Kai isn't thinking of Tao on the nights he doesn’t manage to get a shower so the itchy sheets cling to his sweat-slicked back, he's not done his job. And that’s why Kai hates him.
He tries hard to make it work. Kai earnestly puts it off for as long as he can, but something has to take place of those five minutes. Something has to snap like a knuckle, give the satisfying crack and release the tension between them. That’s why it happens.
The boys are moved into one dorm for wolf promotions and Tao sneaks into Kai’s room after dance rehearsals, finding him sprawled out on the floor, trying to release his achy bones and enjoy some peace. It’s absurd how triumphant Tao felt stripping him of that peace. Ever since last month there were no more silent moments in Kai’s life, not with Tao kicking sheets off the bed and giggling when they landed on Kai’s face, or meals being halved by Tao’s greedy fingers. Now sleep got cut short by early morning wake up calls from a frisky dark circled nightmare who found 4 am funny, so inevitably, after his last shackle of sanity gave way, Kai snapped.
“OUT” Kai barked, chucking his shoe at the door. Tao skillfully shielded himself from the projectile with the door, wincing only briefly. He listened for the sound of the sneaker tumbling across the carpet to settle before scuffling into the room anyway.
The rubber shoe caught under the bottom of the door, making his entrance a bit rougher than usual, but Tao maintained his cocky air, turning the trip into a skip. Not that Kai was paying attention. “You tired?” Tao leered, squatting beside Kai on the floor. “I thought you were supposed to be the main dancer. Where’s your stamina, hyung?” The address was biting rather than respectful, as expected from Tao, accompanied by a jab to the ribs.
“Get out.” Kai groaned, right arm slung over his eyes and left swatting sloppily at Tao's pesky hand.
Tao snatched up Kai’s wrist like a baby does a cat’s tail, and Kai bristled not unlike a cat. “What ever happened to ‘please’?” Tao chided. “C’mon, let’s play a game before dinner. I’m boooored.”
Kai tore away and sat up with dark eyes. “I don’t want to play shit, Tao.” He glowered. “I want to sleep. Leave me alone.”
“Aw c’mon.” Tao whined, crawling over Kai. “The sun only just set.” He shoved Kai back to the floor in hopes of initiating a playful tussle, but Kai dropped the adjective and chucked Tao off him, heeling his stomach in the process.
“What the hell?” Tao yelled, clutching his midsection. “What was that for?”
“I said I want to you gone! Entertain your goddamn self.” Kai tried to curl himself away from Tao, but he still hadn't gotten the hint.
“You don’t need to be such a dick about it.” Tao huffed.
“And you don’t need to be such a dick all the time!”
Kai broke.
“I don’t know what you want from me! It’s like you want me to crash and burn. I’m fucking tired, Zitao." He raged, rising along with his voice. "I just want some fucking sleep so I can get up and do this all again tomorrow. You know as well as I do that if I don’t perform well, it’ll weigh down everyone else, including you, so take your personal vendetta somewhere else and quit being so fucking needy already!”
Tao’s insides sunk, so his nose rose snottily to combat his drooping appearance. “You aren’t the center of everything, Jongin.” He mumbled, not meaning it enough to speak up to volume.
“That’s not what I said.” Kai sighed, standing up. “We all need to help each other. Why the hell are you trying to tear me down all the time?”
“I am not!” Tao shot up stubbornly.
“Are too!”
“AM NOT!” Tao pounded the wall, a ring on his finger catching the side of Kai’s Ne-yo poster and tearing the lower right corner clean off. The ripping sound immediately staled Tao from the inside out, Kai staring speechlessly down at his left hand. Tao could feel the glossy crinkled paper against his fist, but it took actually seeing the shredded edge to realize what he’d done.
“I-I’m sorry.” Tao’s voice was meek and horrified because that look on Kai’s face was nothing like upset. It was inflamed, crushed, betrayed. Tao stumbled back and turned away, but Kai caught the crow’s feet forming at the corners of his eyes. They were similar to when he laughed, but now filled with tears, and Kai wondered if mere guilt or an actual comprehension of how much damage he’d done had been the drop that broke the surface tension.
Once Tao’d run out and slammed his bedroom door, Kai kicked the wall. He’s such a kid. He grumbled, leaning back on the lumpy paint.
Just a kid, he reminded himself, and flopped onto the bed in dismay.
There came a knock at the door. “Dinner’s ready!” Suho called.
“I don’t feel well!” Kai shouted back without bothering to turn his face out of the sheets. “Save me something!”
“Alright,” came the simple response, already drifting away.
Finally, Kai got his time alone.
Promotions carried on the next day, but Tao was oddly silent. He still lingered on Kai's coat tails, but said nothing, and avoided getting caught glancing anywhere above his feet. He’s itching to get out of here, Kai notes, and he feels responsible for the discomfort, but he can’t find a time to honestly apologize amidst so much noise and body. How the hell had Tao navigated these crowds so easily? Even now, he somehow made it to the other side of the room to whisper to Luhan, and Kai’d completely lost track of him when they were hustled into two cars waiting to escort them back to the dorms.
Perhaps the ultimate sign of Tao’s stealth was after their second music show win while Kai was out with Taemin celebrating. Kai slunk into the dorm well after midnight with a sly smile, feeling rather smug he’d hung out with friends later than the other members, but something unsettled him. He slowly twisted the doorknob to his room to prevent any clicking disturbance when he opened the door and scanned the room. There, on the wall between the beds, hung his poster, now 4/4ths finished. It was taped up like a five year old's art project, with hundreds of inch long pieces and off edges, but Kai couldn’t help feeling touched. He smoothed out some of the more hideous air bubbles beneath the tape and stifled a laugh. God, Tao. What kind of a mess of a metaphor was this?
But Kai appreciated having his poster back in one whole again, perhaps even more than before.