SBB 2016 Entry #14: bloom

[replaymods]

title: bloom
pairing: onew/jonghyun/taemin
rating: r
genre: university au
Warnings: none
final word count: 10150


for a and s, even though you would’ve written it better.

Taemin and Moonkyu found a spot by the bushes, existing on the edge of the action like they always had. They were like curious satellites orbiting the brighter stars of the campus. It was a wonder Jinki spotted him at all.

“Sunbae!”

“Taemin. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Jinki stuck a hand into the darkness behind him and drew out a short figure with gleaming silver hair. “This is my boyfriend, Jonghyun. Hyunnie, this is Taemin. I told you about him, remember?”

This was the second time in Taemin’s life that time froze. Even years later he could tell you exactly what Jonghyun was wearing, how his scent was unexpectedly floral, and the perfect way Jinki’s arm slotted around his darling waist.

“It’s nice to meet you, Taemin.” Jonghyun smiled and God, even his teeth were perfect.

“Wait,” Moonkyu burst forward with his characteristic lack of grace. “Are you the Kim Jonghyun?”

Taemin stared at him.

“How can you not know! He’s only the most famous writer on campus. He’s already been published three times and there are rumours you already have a book deal. Is it true?” Moonkyu pressed.

Jonghyun laughed, a shy little thing that made his otherwise enormous eyes screw up in a litany of wrinkles.

“Mr.Kim is not taking any questions tonight,” Jinki said in his most serious voice. “I just wanted to introduce him to Taemin. Now if you don’t mind, our drinks are still sweating it at the bar.”

They’re not the only ones, Taemin wanted to say.

“See you around.” Jonghyun waved at them as they walked off, still entwined with Jinki in a way that should have been awkward but worked oddly well. Taemin took a sip of his soda. It tasted like disappointment.

“Let’s get a drink too.”

Moonkyu raised his eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t want to party.”

“I changed my mind.”

*

“Can you shut the curtains? I am dying here.”

Taemin made it a point to step on Moonkyu on the way back to his bed. “Rest in peace.”

His roommate burrowed deeper into his pillow with an incomprehensible noise of pain. Taemin went back to his phone. He was well on his way to a new high score. The perks of heartbreak.

“Wait.” Moonkyu shot up, blankets flying everywhere. “Why do my arms look like I tried to tame a wildcat?”

Taemin had been waiting for this moment. “You fell in Kibum’s mom’s expensive yet thorny bushes and pretty much ruined them,” he said nonchalantly.

Moonkyu’s eyes went wide. “I can never go back to campus again.”

Taemin grinned. “I’m guessing you don’t want to see the video.”

*

“I just need a day at the most.” Because I forgot about the paper, Taemin doesn’t add. “I’m really sorry, Professor. My roommate got into an accident Saturday night and there was so much going on, I couldn’t finish the way I wanted to.”

She gave him a look that seemed to suggest she didn’t exactly believe him. “Alright, Mr Lee. Please make sure it’s on my desk tomorrow morning at the latest. I understand it’s the first few weeks but let us not make a habi-”

Something flashed over her shoulder, tugging at Taemin’s attention while she droned on. Jinki was talking to some girls in his class, hands animated, ring catching the sunlight and throwing it into Taemin’s eyes. He blinked and looked away but it was too late. Jinki had noticed. He smiled, a small, quiet thing and Taemin’s stomach back flipped.

“Are we clear, young man?”

“Y-yes,” Taemin said, bowing hurriedly. “Thank you so much, Professor. I’ll have it on your desk first thing tomorrow.”

“What was that about?”

Taemin turned around to find Jinki staring down at him with gentle curiosity.

“I forgot to do my assignment,” Taemin mumbled. Jinki probably never did something like that. He was always top of his class.

“Let me know if you need any help.” Jinki hoisted his bag up his shoulder. “Have you had lunch?”

“Not yet.”

“Let’s go eat.”

*

“This pizza is fucking amazing.”

Jinki scooped another slice onto his plate. “Isn’t it? It’s my favourite thing to eat when I’m having a bad day.”

Taemin eyed him. “Did something happen?”

“Something is always happening. Will I be seeing you at practice later?”

Taemin nodded. He was a little disappointed Jinki had kept the details to himself, but it made sense. He had Jonghyun to go to for things like this.

“Do you reckon,” Jinki examined his plate critically, “it’s possible to fall in love with food? Like, not love it, but fall in love with it.”

Taemin pondered it. He took another bite and made up his mind. “I would marry this pizza.”

Jinki laughed. “Me too.”

They were perched on the pavement outside the store. The sun was high in the sky and Taemin’s throat was parched, but he knew Jinki would scold him if he ordered something too cold. It was bad for his voice apparently.

“Could you commit to just the pizza though? I think I would miss other foods too much.”

“I think right now I could,” Taemin said quietly and Jinki hummed.

Somewhere on the other side of campus, Moonkyu screamed.

*

“You’ll just have to bring me all my meals. And my assignments. Tell them I have chicken pox.”

“No one is going to remember what happened after next weekend when Minho chugs 300 beers or something.” Taemin starfished on his bed. The ceiling was a calming, even white. These dorms were fairly new. “You’re overreacting.”

“There is a video! No one will forget because it’s been captured for all eternity.”

“I thought you weren’t going to watch it.”

“I was curious,” Moonkyu said miserably.

Taemin clicked his tongue. “A fatal mistake usually.”

It had been an hour since Taemin came back from practice. It was still a fairly slow process, dominated by introductions and first impressions. Kibum was still as terrifying as ever and Jinki had the same mysterious twist to his lips every time he caught Taemin staring. He needed to work on that. Taemin rolled his face into his pillow with a groan. It felt like he’d been pining for years. Wasn’t it weird to be so taken by someone so quickly? It didn’t help that Jinki was so entirely radiant, had the voice of an angel, and a heart of gold. He was always around Taemin - or was Taemin always around him - and ready to help. There was the small matter of Jonghyun too. From what Taemin had heard, Jinki and Jonghyun were perfect for each other in every way. Their duets, though rare, were campus legend. Jonghyun had a powerful voice and although, being from different schools, they often sang against each other, on some summer nights a single voice would drift out of Jinki’s dorm room and stop the stars in their tracks.

Taemin blinked. His brain was up to something weird. It was just, it was so hard to dislike Jonghyun, not when he was this small bundle of kindness. Whatever little time Taemin had spent with him had been perfectly delightful. Jonghyun was earnest yet intelligent. He was well-read but not in that stuck up way Taesun had been. Jonghyun walked around completely unaware of the effect he had on people.

Put them together and you had no need for Taemin. He sighed. He still had his paper to finish. He dragged himself off the bed and to the tiny desk in the corner of the room. Moonkyu was back in his blankets; probably replaying every mortifying second in his head.

Taemin turned the tiny lamp on and waited for clarity.

*

“Competition law is fundamental to keeping malpractices like monopoly at bay.”

“Kill me,” Moonkyu whispered and Taemin concurred wholeheartedly. The class felt like it would never end. Professor Shin was famous for his monotone and utterly uninspired style of teaching. Rumour had it you could strip in class and as long as you didn’t cut him off, he wouldn’t notice. The droning on was key.

Taemin scratched angry patterns into the frail paper of his notebook. It was the kind you could get in bulk at the store behind his house. His mom had anticipated he would have a lot to write. But none of what the professor was saying felt like it needed to be preserved. Taemin’s drawing had been a bit of a joke in school - he was just so bad. A wave of nostalgia came over him. There was a familiarity to the movements of his hand, but in little else. He knew he’d be alright in a few months but while he had braced for a lot of things, Jinki hadn’t been one of them. Taemin had long made peace with the fact that were he ever to fall in love - because, to be honest, he was always happier alone - it probably wouldn’t be with a girl. In fact, he’d been so confident it would never happen, he’d never worried about his family’s reaction. He didn’t really know what he would spend his life doing instead, but there was a part of him that remained unperturbed at the thought and he trusted it.

So when Moonkyu nudged him and tossed his eyes to Soojung, her hands carding through her long hair, Taemin turned his own back to the horrendous sketch he was nearly done with. Just forty more minutes to go.

*

“Do you eat properly?” His mom sounded so far away, her voice a wisp on the wind.

“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. He usually managed to feed himself on time. On occasion Jinki would take him to Jonghyun’s dorm. He knew how much Taemin loved meat and chicken Wednesdays were always worth the walk. Still, the empty feeling in his stomach never really went away.

“Your father’s taken up golfing. Says now that both of you are in college, he can do more retired people stuff.” Her laugh was a tad nervous. “I was speaking to your aunt the other day and she was so happy to hear you joined the music club. We were thinking we might sell your piano, you hadn’t touched it in years, but now we won’t of course!”

Taemin rolled his eyes, revelling in his new found freedom to do this without incurring the wrath of his parents. “I wouldn’t pin too much hope on it. How’s Eve?”

“She’s fine. I think she misses you. She’s been peeing on your pillow constantly.”

“Throw it out.”

“What, the piano?”

“Mom!”

*

Soojung was a bit of a campus celebrity. She was beautiful, almost perfectly so, and had an air of unperturbed calm that made everyone flock to her. For some reason though, she’d taken a liking to Taemin, making it a point to seek him out at least once a day. He didn’t mind. Usually, her stories were pretty funny. Today, however was different.

“And I realised like, holy shit my blouse is white. And totally drenched. Obviously I couldn’t walk back to our apartment without flashing every human being on campus. I was completely losing my mind, thank heaven Jinki oppa showed up. He completely saved me.” She took a long sip of her iced tea. “He is so chivalrous, you know what I mean?”

Taemin made a non-committal noise. He wouldn’t be caught red handed.

“It was so cool to go into his room and then he gave me his cardigan, and he even told me I looked cute into it!” Her eyes were bright with earnestness. It was a rare sight. “I swear, we had such… chemistry? I mean, there was definitely tension. I know Jinki doesn’t really go for what I’ve got but if I’m not the exception, who is?”

Taemin’s headaches always started in his right temple.

*

“You’re sulking.”

“I am not.”

“Taemin, you’re a child. Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go get some beer and chicken.”

It was a tempting offer. Soojung’s words had been replaying in his head. Not because she was right; because she was so utterly wrong. There was no exception to Jonghyun. He hoisted himself up on his elbows.

“How about we go to the arcade first?”

Moonkyu grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*

Somewhere between DOTA2 and grease-licked fingers, Jinki walked out of Taemin’s thoughts as easily as he had walked into them. The weekends were always a relief in that way. Taemin could hole up in his room and almost get his peace of mind back. The weeks were long with fleet footed admiration but Sunday afternoons like this one, spent watching choreography videos on YouTube, were nice. It’d been a while since he had danced. With music practice, time was sparse, though the competitions didn’t start till fall. Maybe he would book a studio one of these nights.

He was making his way back from the vending machines when he ran into Kibum.

“Hey, kid.” To be honest, Taemin was terrified of Kibum. Or Key. The only thing sharper than his dancing was his tongue, and he’d seen the damage it could deal. It was funny because with his bright smile and adorable dimple, Kibum was the opposite of terrifying.

“Hey,” Taemin echoed.

“Are you excited for practice to start?” Kibum asked. Somehow the rest of the world had not figured out arms, but Kibum’s, even by his side, were the picture of casual interest.

Taemin summoned up his enthusiasm into a wide smile. “Yeah!”

“Cool. It’s a bummer we have to wait so long to be able to do what we do. All the other clubs think we just goof off, even though, let’s be real, half the trophies in that cabinet are ours.”

Taemin gripped his orange soda and made a non-committal noise.

“Anyway, I’m throwing a party this Saturday. Kind of like a mixer for the different clubs. You should come by.”

Taemin repeated the noise and Kibum laughed.

“Don’t be a hermit. I’ll see you there.” He piped up again at the end of the corridor and Taemin turned around

“I mean it!”

*

Jinki laughed when Taemin called Kibum scary.

“He’s not. And he’s a ton of fun. He can just come off intimidating, but he is such a mom.”

“Everyone is nice to you,” Taemin muttered. He did resent not having the easy charm of the people around him. It looked like it’d make life a lot easier.

“I wonder why.” Jinki shot him a shit-eating grin and Taemin wanted to kick it off his face.

“I have class.” He got to his feet. It was a lie. He knew it and he knew Jinki knew it, but he let him go without question.

Taemin’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. Why was he always running off to Jinki for every little thing? It’s not like the man was his diary. Or his therapist. He probably thought Taemin was a lost little kid, just like Kibum. He didn’t even notice where his feet were taking him till he was staring at the door of his room. He went in with a resigned sigh.

Moonkyu, as always, had the energy of a thousand suns.

“So did you decide about the party?”

“I don’t want to go,” Taemin said with a long whine. “I mean, I want to but I don’t.” He flopped on his bed. “I don’t know. I can’t decide.”

Moonkyu looked unperturbed. “Then let me decide. We’re going. You’re wearing the baggy black t-shirt, flashing a bit of skin always helps and everyone loves a slutty shoulder.”

“Fuck off,” Taemin said half-heartedly.

*

He did end up going. It’s like Jinki was the bait and Taemin was a little clown fish. Someone somewhere was probably very entertained by how bad he had it. But the extent of it was worse than they could ever imagine. Because of course Jinki brought Jonghyun and Taemin was twice as taken. They circulated around the room in perfect harmony, Jinki’s arm around Jonghyun’s shoulder, under it a soft sweater the other boy was positively swimming in.

“Staring is rude.” Moonkyu wandered back to his side and handed him a vodka with lime, water and nothing else please. Two more of those and Taemin was able to focus on something other than the campus it-couple for a change. The night blurred pleasantly and he was in deep conversation with the Park kid from the debating society when Jinki squeezed past him, his hand alighting briefly on the side of Taemin’s waist and making him realise, for the first time in his life, that it was a place you could feel at all.

*

His waist would sing every time he saw Jinki after that. It would tingle and come alive in a way that made him writhe, and he swear Jinki knew. He must have felt it. There was something about the way he looked at Taemin that was different now. But it was a feeling that made no sense because what had changed? Taemin liked him, that he knew Jinki knew. There was no way he couldn’t. And sure, they had been spending a lot more time together. But that was because Jinki was helping him with his voice and Jonghyun was away and they had more than a few friends in common now.

He picked his bag up with a shrug. If Jinki wanted him, Taemin wouldn’t stand in his way.

It’s not like he had a choice anyway.

*

Taemin fought down a gasp. His knees were trembling and it felt like they would never stop. The world had tilted, inevitably, slid out of control like Jinki’s tongue through his lips, like his hands up his shirt. Jinki’s fingers gripped his chin and guided him closer.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Jinki confessed, kissing his jaw softly.

“Why didn’t you?” Taemin’s body was on fire.

“This and that,” Jinki muttered, pulling him into his lap and Taemin swung onto his body like a rollercoaster. It was warm, so warm, the impossible heat of Jinki’s breath, swallowed up by Taemin in his search for air. It was heady, like freedom, like a dream come true. Jinki’s hands pinched his hips and it wasn’t a dream anymore. The slow grind of their hips, the feeling of skin against skin against skin was too real. Jinki’s hands both impossibly soft and incredibly rough. Taemin pulsed in his arms.

“Kiss me.”

Jinki obeyed and Taemin got drunk on the power of it. Once, twice, a hundred thousand times, lips on lips, slipping and sliding deeper into whatever this was. His body felt like it needed to be touched everywhere at once. Like Jinki alone wouldn’t be enough. A face flashed through his mind and Taemin threw his head back, sweat painting his skin.

He was so painfully hard, months of arousal razing his skin down to goosebumps. Taemin guided Jinki’s hands to his hem, tugging it sloppily. Together they pulled it off.

Even as the rain knocked on the door, Taemin bared his heart across Jinki’s sheets.

*

“I like this song.” Taemin burrowed into Jinki’s blanket. “It reminds me of… now. Is that weird?”

The older boy laughed. “You sound like Jonghyun.”

Taemin turned to look at him. “Don’t you miss him?”

“Of course I do. But he’ll be back.”

Taemin nodded and rolled back into his old position, Jinki’s arm coming around his waist and pinning him to the bed like an anchor.

Outside, it rained on.

*

It was difficult, Taemin realised, to explain. His friend was out right now, but there was no doubt he’d want to know where Taemin had been. No one had seen him and Jinki together. Then again, so what if they had?

Taemin stared at his back in the mirror as if Jinki had left fingerprints. Dust him down and the world would know what they had done.

The door opened and Moonkyu walked in.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Taemin returned cautiously, tugging his t-shirt back into place. “Where were you?”

“I went to play tennis with some boys from Politics.” Moonkyu dropped his bag by the door and flopped down on Taemin’s bed, sweat and all. “How about you?”

Taemin considered it briefly. “I was at Jinki’s.”

Moonkyu raised his brows. “And?”

“And I think you should get your dirty ass off my bed.” Taemin threw a towel on his friend. “Pervert.”

*

Taemin felt embarrassed to be holding Jonghyun as tightly as he was. But something about the shorter boy’s presence made things feel like they were back in place, like a crooked painting righted. He still wasn’t sure why Jonghyun had left to begin with; few people seemed to know. It was a bit of a mystery on campus, but Jinki knew and there was no one better to go through it with Jonghyun than him. So Taemin stayed quiet, his small hands splayed across Jonghyun’s sweater.

Over his shoulder, Jinki loomed larger and larger till he was standing pressed against him.

“Missed you,” he said softly and, powerless, Taemin overheard.

*

Jonghyun had a haiku wrapped around his wrist like a handcuff. The tattoo was austere, black against his soft brown skin. Taemin touched it with more confidence than he felt.

“What does it say?”

“It’s by Basho,” Jinki answered instead, looking up from his book. “And it’s quite depressing if you ask me.”

“But I didn’t.” Jonghyun dipped his sleeve up so Taemin could examine it better. “It says, Nothing in the cry of the cicadas suggests they are about to die.”

“Wow.” Taemin stared at him. “That’s seriously depressing.”

“Death is not depressing,” Jonghyun said delicately. “And neither is this poem. The point is they sing without self-consciousness. They sing as if they’ll sing forever.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Taemin felt the heat rush to his cheeks. As always, Jonghyun was a hundred times more eloquent than he could hope to be.

Something about the moment felt right and wrong at the same time. The sense that he was an intruder never really left him. The way Jonghyun’s fingers entwined with his, a small comfort, chased it into a corner at least.

“Do you want to catch a movie?” Jinki stretched, his loose t shirt racing up his stomach.

“We should go tomorrow morning. It’s ridiculously cheap.”

Taemin didn’t mean to sound like a freshmen but, “We have class in the morning.”

Jinki grinned fondly. “Look who’s a model student now. Nothing will happen if you cut one class.”

“There’s a really cool movie on! With like, a shit ton of murders.” Jonghyun was so excitable, it was cute. Even if it was about murders.

“Homicide with a side of eggs.” Jinki cracked his fingers. “I’ll take it.”

*

With a twist of fate’s lips, Jinki was cursed with a migraine when he woke up, and Taemin and Jonghyun found themselves alone together. It felt like the rug had been pulled out from under Taemin’s feet. Jinki was what made them work and without him, for all of Jonghyun’s wonderfulness, it was awkward.

He drew his sleeves over his fists as they walked to the cinema. There was a nip in the air. Like always, the sun was fixating on Jonghyun’s hair, throwing the light into Taemin’s eyes. He blinked.

“So,” he peeked at the older boy, “what’s this movie about?”

Jonghyun grinned sheepishly. “It’s about a beautiful woman who murders a slew of husbands and gets richer and richer.”

“A businesswoman.”

Jonghyun laughed. “Maybe you can pick up a tip or two.”

“I’ll probably learn more than I would have in class.”

The cinema turned out to be a dismally run down little thing. The seats grey in the don’t ask, don’t tell way of old airplanes. Taemin thought about all the things they must have seen. All the butts suffocating them. All the hands slipping into places they shouldn’t; the tears slipping down imperfect nose bridges. Not Jonghyun’s though; Jonghyun’s was perfect. The tears slid down his cheeks like bodies down a pole: beautiful, and almost erotic. Taemin couldn’t tell you how long he stared.

The movie was a whirlwind and Taemin struggled to keep up with it. It was hard to focus on someone else’s life when yours was playing out next to you, its warm skin seeping through your t-shirt. He’d never been more conscious of a person. Taemin went to Jinki like a moth to a flame, but around Jonghyun he floundered. Jonghyun was more muted, like a candle, and Taemin didn’t know how welcome he was yet.

“Are you getting bored?” Jonghyun whispered and Taemin tuned back in. Had he been staring in the wrong direction?

“No, not at all,” he clarified softly. It wasn’t a lie. He was just preoccupied. By you, he doesn’t add.

Jonghyun’s fingers found his and gently pulled him back down to earth. Taemin felt the blood rush to his ears. Like always, his thoughts darted to the one who was missing. Jinki was sleeping through this, whatever it was.

Jonghyun’s hand was warm. Taemin traced the hard lines of his… metacarpal bones, if he remembered correctly.

“Did you say something?” Jonghyun turned to him.

Taemin shook his head. The lights from the screen danced across Jonghyun’s left cheek. It was mesmerising. He was mesmerising.

Taemin didn’t dare to blink. Unlike the movie, Jonghyun was something he didn’t want to miss. The moment built and built, the air around them coming to a standstill. He doesn’t remember who leaned in first.

He doesn’t remember how the movie ended either.

*

There was something about the rain that, even years later, would take him back to Jinki’s room. The three of them occupied with some meaningless task, tangled up in its four walls. There could be a nuclear wasteland outside for all he cared.

He remembered it in flashes of electricity, like lightning down his time worn body. The day he was painting a banner for the bake sale and he’d stretched across the fabric with his paintbrush, oblivious to Jinki’s stare. The cheesy neon light Jonghyun had installed, despite Jinki’s protests and the sickening blue it painted the room. The time Jinki had casually slipped his hand out of Jonghyun’s drawstrings and to give Taemin a welcoming hug. Like fluids, they ran into each other.

Sometimes they argued. They were all stubborn in their own way, and when Jinki returned Taemin’s Michael Jackson CD with a dog ear, it was war.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?” Jonghyun leaned against the back wall of the Philosophy building. There was an unruly garden there Taemin liked to go to when he needed to clear his thoughts.

It was difficult to explain. The album meant a lot to him and watching Jinki handle it so carelessly was scary.

“No,” Taemin decided.

A day turned into a week. Jinki slunk up to him with the face of a kicked puppy and Taemin caved. It’s not like he could make out with Michael anyway.

*

“Hey, stranger.”

Taemin let the straw slip out from between his lips. “Hey,” he returned. “How’ve you been?”

Soojung flung her ponytail over her shoulder. “Good. Unlike you, I actually get some sun.” She leaned closer. “So, is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“That Jonghyun and Jinki broke up because of you but you’re sleeping with both of them.”

Taemin stared at her. “Are you serious?”

“What!” A small pout formed over her lips. “It’s not like I’m making this up; it’s what everyone is saying. All over campus. You’re causing quite the scandal you know.”

Something in his stomach clenched. Taemin hated it when people talked about him. It was rare, and it was rare for a reason. He’d do anything to stay out of conversation. Living life close to the walls was his usual method. But of course, standing next to Jinki meant standing in the spotlight.

“Jonghyun and Jinki are still together,” he said finally. It wasn’t a lie.

“Right.” Soojung’s raised eyebrows said otherwise. “Well,” she got back on her feet, “if you ever decide to tell me the truth, you know where to find me.”

*

“What’s up?” Jonghyun asked, hopping onto the empty bench beside him. He must have come to meet Jinki. (Or, you know.)

Taemin stuck his tongue to his front teeth.

Jonghyun squinted at his mouth. “What’s that?” He scooted closer. “Is that a piercing?”

Taemin laughed. “It’s a coin,” he said, the words slurring a bit.

“Taemin, that is disgusting.”

“It’s not!” Taemin leaned back on his palms. The sky was a brooding grey, dangling the promise of rain but leaving him dry. “It actually tastes pretty good.”

Jonghyun opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again. “Do you know how many assorted germs you just willingly threw into your body?”

Taemin whistled. “Wow, way to be a buzzkill. Let me suck on the things I love. If I remember correctly, you have no problem when I’m sucki-”

“Enough,” Jonghyun said loudly and jumped on him.

Taemin wrestled him off laughing. Jonghyun’s hands were relentless as they tried to grab his chin, and it wasn’t long before they were a tangle of limbs. Jonghyun shrieked loudly when Taemin’s watch snagged in his hair. It just made him laugh harder.

“S-stop it,” he wheezed, wriggling under the older boy. “Someone’s going to hear us.”

Jonghyun pinned his wrists to the desk with a defiant look. “I don’t care.”

Suit yourself, Taemin thought and spat the coin on his face.

*

“Where’ve you been?”

Taemin chewed his cuticle. “What does it matter?” Taesun sounded as far away as he was, on another continent, oceans hurtling between them.

“Taemin,” his brother said seriously. “You know you’re there for a reason, right. It’s really important to focus in college. There are a lot of… distractions.”

Laughter bubbled in Taemin’s throat. Was his brother really trying to have that talk with him?

“Well, you wouldn’t know would you. I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” He shifted his weight to his left foot. “How have you been?”

As his brother began a monologue about his graduate thesis, Taemin’s mind catapulted into space.

*

“Why is it so hard to talk to our family?” Taemin stared at the sky. “And don’t tell me it’s because we don’t choose them. That’s bullshit; there’s plenty of people we choose who turn out to be horrible.” A bird swooped down on the warm breeze. “Not that my family is horrible,” he added as an afterthought.

“You need to stop hanging out with Jinki.” Moonkyu kicked his head gently. They were sprawled out in the lawn again. Somewhere in the back of his mind Taemin knew he had class, but the grass was cool and the sun was warm and he was just right.

“That has nothing to do with anything.”

“It has everything to do with everything. Since when did you become a Philosophy major?”

“Thinking can be nice once in a while. You should try it.”

“Hey!”

Taemin laughed. Moonkyu was so straightforward; his words were unfiltered while Taemin could take months to say the simplest things.

*

Jonghyun told Taemin he loved him on a hot, humid evening. It had just finished raining and they were navigating the puddles hand in hand. There was nothing grandiose about it. Nothing that lovestruck teenagers would quote to each other even centuries later.

Jonghyun tripped, plunging towards the water, and Taemin, somehow, managed to catch him in time.

“Fuck, I love you,” Jonghyun said. It didn’t look like he had noticed, and maybe it wasn’t worth noticing. But Taemin always noticed. He noticed the way Jonghyun looked at Jinki, and the way Jonghyun looked at him. Was he looking at Taemin through Jinki or could he see for himself?

It was true that Jinki brought him to Jonghyun. Walked him down the aisle, Taemin thought wryly. But you’d have to be a fool not to fall in love with that boy. The way his hair stuck up in the morning was more endearing than anything Taemin had ever known.

Jonghyun continued to chart the road ahead of them, arms splayed out on either side to keep himself from teetering. And little by little, Taemin began to feel himself fall.

*

“But how does it work?” Moonkyu slurred.

The wine did nothing to dull the anger that pulsed through Taemin. Why were people always trying to piece them together? Why did they need to know?

“I don’t mean the sex.”

Oh, Taemin thought.

“I mean, do you ever feel like, I don’t know, someone loves someone else more? Or like, do you always have to know when the other two meet without you?” Moonkyu continued, oblivious to the suffocating silence that was filling the room. “Or like, do you ever get jealous of them? Because they’ve technically been together longer. It has to get awkward.”

Taemin didn’t have the answers but, to be honest, till tonight Taemin had never those questions. But once the mind starts wondering, it’s hard to make it stop.

*

“What is this?”

Jinki looked up from his laptop. “This?” he echoed.

There was nothing Taemin hated more than sounding lost. Because he was lost, and he’d rather not be reminded of it. Other people got through life with big, confident strides. Taemin dragged his feet behind him; he tripped and stumbled and more often than not needed directions.

“Us. What are we? You, me and Jonghyun. Are we,” the word caught in his throat, “boyfriends?”

Jinki closed the lid carefully. “Did something happen?”

“No, I just,” Taemin played with the ends of his sleeve. “I feel like I need to know, and for a while I wanted to pretend like I don’t care, but I do. I really like you guys.”

“And we really like you too.” Jinki walked over and crouched in front of him. “But if you want me to tell you this’ll be easy and neat and not the most complicated thing we’ll probably ever do… it won’t. We’re going to have a lot more fights. Uglier fights. But it’ll be worth it because I get to have you both in my life.”

“So it is you.”

Jinki stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“What are me and Jonghyun without you? You get both of us, what do we get?”

“You don’t get anything. Jesus, Taemin. This isn’t a competition. I’m not some kind of trophy you and Jonghyun get to fight over.” His voice softened a bit. “Did something bring this on?”

“People talk you know,” Taemin said softly. “They don’t talk about you or Jjong. They talk about me.”

“People will always talk. Do you think people don’t talk about me and Jonghyun? Just because they accept us doesn’t mean they don’t make jokes behind our backs. Every time Jonghyun leaves, fifty people will start cackling that I gave him an STD again.” Jinki shook his head. “But I’ve done the whole caring what people think thing, and it almost cost me my happiness. I’m not doing it again. I know it’s not easy. Hell, you’ve been braver in this past month than I’ve been in my entire life.”

The room blurred as Taemin spoke up again, his voice wobbling lightly, “But you’ll be gone next year. What if Jonghyun and I don’t make it? I feel like… everything is ruined. Like people just see me as a sex toy you guys use.”

Firm hands cup his face and lift his chin. “Did someone say something?” Jinki asked him, his shoulders tense.

Taemin shook his head. How could he explain it to Jinki? People didn’t need to say anything when he cussed himself out in his head all day. No one needed to call him a freak for him to feel like one. That was the beauty of his mind.

He felt the tears sliding hotly down his cheeks, his thoughts moving faster than his lips could ever hope to. The words came out in a babble, all the silly fears he had tucked away because he wanted to seem cool and mature and worthy.

Jinki wrapped him up in his arms without a word and Taemin cried them all out.

*

“It feels like a PTM,” Taemin said mutinously from his spot on the bed. He knew Jinki would talk to Jonghyun. He knew he had said some pretty incriminating things.

Jonghyun was sitting backwards on a chair, his legs dangling in the air. His ankles were so slim and distracting.

“It’s not, so stop sulking.” Jinki tossed a cushion at him. “We just feel like… you’re right. We need to talk about this and stop acting like we know what we’re doing. We don’t.”

“But we’ll figure it out,” Jonghyun chimed in earnestly. They were so in sync, Taemin’s heart ached a little. They were perfect for each other; what was he doing here?

“Stop it,” Jinki said. “Whatever you’re thinking. Whatever you’ve convinced yourself is going to happen here, or should happen here, is not going to happen. We’re not giving up on you. Taemin, we care about you so much.”

“I care about you too,” Taemin said softly. His stomach was churning. He felt exposed to Jinki, and it was new. It was intense in a way his mind liked to erase. Ask him years later and he probably wouldn’t be able to tell you anything except how sweaty his armpits had gotten.

“Jonghyun’s going to cry.”

“I am not!” The shorter boy kicked his legs out and Taemin’s heart, despite himself, filled with affection. “We think you made some good points though. So even if it’s boring and awkward, we should discuss all of it. So there’s no misunderstandings and whatever is in your mind, the good or the bad, we want to hear it Taemin-ah.” Jonghyun slid off the chair and curled up next to him.

Jonghyun’s eyes were bright with something Taemin couldn’t believe was true but he leaned into it anyway.

*

“We were supposed to talk,” Jinki said in a strangled voice. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’d better not be.” Jonghyun nosed his thigh. Taemin laid his cheek against the other and watched Jonghyun bite deep into Jinki. His tongue darted out to soothe it, but the skin was already angry. Jonghyun was always quick with his teeth. Taemin’s neck could recount it all in vivid detail.

He dragged his fingers along Jinki’s bare calf as Jonghyun nosed the dark patch of hair between Jinki’s legs. These were the moments it all started to feel like a daydream. A fantasy. But then Jinki’s hands would clench in his hair, tight to the point of pain, and Taemin would remember it wasn’t.

*

“These books are so boring.” Jonghyun made a face. “How many more exams do you have?”

“Just the one.” Taemin slouched over his desk. “But it feels like I might die before it. My brain is just so fucking numb. How is supply chain management ever going to be of any use in the real world?”

“It probably won’t. But I wouldn’t really put something away because it isn’t useful. I mean, how useful is reading?”

Normally Taemin liked having Jonghyun in his bed, but he was being too sensible today.

“Reading is useful, because it lets you write. Writing is an art. The rest of us just get by.”

“Dancing is an art too.”

Taemin put his pen down with a sigh. He was too tired to argue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had more than four hours of sleep.

“Hey,” Jonghyun said softly. “Come here.”

Taemin tumbled into the bed next to him. “I’m going to fail,” he said without a trace of worry. He’d come to accept his fate.

“You absolutely will not.” Jonghyun nosed him and Taemin shivered.

“Why are you so cold?”

“Because you won’t cuddle with me,” the other boy said innocently and Taemin kicked him lightly.

“I’m not cuddling with you because I’m being responsible. Isn’t that what you guys wanted when you, and I quote, told me to stop treating the university like one large bar?”

Jonghyun laughed. “What a brat. It was for your own good. You know you have a problem when you start using Hershey’s syrup as a mixer.”

“Hey, my chocolate soju bombs were excellent!” Taemin poked his cheek. “You have no taste.”

“I can think of a few things I’d like to taste.”

“You’re shitting me. I have an exam in less than twelve hours!”

Jonghyun’s hand slid onto his stomach and it lurched. “You don’t have to stop studying. I won’t disturb you.”

Taemin tried to roll away. “No, absolutely not. Go suck Jinki off instead.”

“Jinki gets even crankier.” Jonghyun pouted. “Why do your exams go on so late? I’m getting bored.”

“Do something useful. Quiz me.”

“Okay. Question number one, how many inches can the average human throat take before i-”

Jonghyun was mad for a week about Taemin kicking him out.

*

Jinki had a vein in his neck that Taemin would remember maybe for the rest of his life. It was a funny thing to latch on to, but maybe for that reason alone it was unforgettable. The vein swelled every time Jinki reached for a high note, the side of his neck bright with sweat.

The first time he’d noticed it Jinki had been in the auditorium, on stage gently singing a song about autumn leaves. The spotlight had had him in a tight grip.

Wasn’t it weird for someone to be beautiful in a place like that? No one would ever write a poem about the way Jonghyun’s armpit felt under Taemin’s tongue but that didn’t make it any less enchanting. Like that, inch by inch, Taemin wrapped himself up in the two boys. His world nestled between them. People would gossip and his friends would occasionally complain about his absence, but magnets were magnets for a reason.

And, for all the quotes that said otherwise, Taemin knew youth was a fragile thing. He hoarded it because he knew there’d be a time, years from now, when his heart would throb for that sun drenched bed and the quiet feeling of happiness.

*

Towards the end of the winter, Jonghyun disappeared again. This time, Taemin asked.

“It’s complicated,” Jinki said, his fingers running laps through Taemin’s hair. “But it’s hard on him. And when he comes back, we should do whatever we can to make it better.”

“Of course, but… I’m worried. Not knowing is horrible. I keep imagining the worst.”

Jinki’s eyes were sympathetic, but he didn’t offer anything else. “It’s not my place to say.”

The possibilities that ran through Taemin’s head kept him up most of that night. But more than anything, it was the hope that Jonghyun was safe from anything bad. There wasn’t a person in the world that Taemin could think of who deserved to be safe more. Maybe he was biased in saying this, but
Jonghyun was an angel. Or maybe Taemin really was just that deep into something he barely understood.

*

“You’re wasting your time trying to dance and sing.” Kibum bit a piece of his Mars bar off viciously. “I mean, you’re a fucking natural. Why would you waste that?”

“I like singing?”

“He’s really good at that too.” Jinki ruffled Taemin’s hair and Kibum looked like he wanted to puke.

“Look at you two out of three lovebirds.”

It was really cool how Kibum had taken them in his stride. It helped that he was queer too. But there was something about him that was just so brazen. Taemin trusted him to offer up the truth.

“Taemin’s vocal technique would take you forever to perfect though! He’d win us so much more metal if he focussed on his dancing.”

There was a thing as too much truth though.

“That’s for him to decide.”

“Wow,” Taemin ducked to one side, “way to throw me under the bus.”

Kibum swallowed a second bite sagaciously. “See, he totally hates you.”

“For someone who eats so much chocolate, you sure do sound bitter, Bummie.”

“That nickname,” Kibum hissed, “was supposed to retire after high school.”

“There’s a lot about high school that could decide to come back in business,” Jinki said, slinging an arm around Taemin. “So stop trying to steal my best new singer and come grab dinner with us tonight.”

*

Second term found Moonkyu in the drama club, but only because “the girl who does sound is really pretty.”

“I mean, think about it.” He slurped the last noodle up noisily and Taemin silently thanked the gods that ordeal was over. “We’ll be stuck together for two, maybe three hours at a time in a dimly lit room. She won’t even be able to see my acne. It’ll be love at first sight.”

“You know you’ll have to meet her outside the booth at some point, right?” Taemin scanned the desert menu on the opposite wall. He was, incredibly, still hungry. Something about the weather was just sending his appetite into overdrive.

“By that time she’ll have seen how beautiful I am on the inside.”

Taemin raised his glass of cola. “To what’s on the inside. How about some bingsu?”

Moonkyu sat back in his chair. “Impossible. Our tastes don’t match.”

Taemin raised his eyebrows. “So we can’t share?”

“Nope. I know you’re good at sharing, but bingsus and boyfriends are two totally different things.”

“Moonkyu.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up while I still like you.”

*

“It’ll be fine,” Taemin whispered. “We went over them yesterday. You wanted to do this!”

“That was a bad idea! You should have stopped me.” Moonkyu rubbed his forehead with a groan. “I thought this’d be easy: lights on, lights off. But there’s like, fifteen different types of lights?! This cannot be an efficient way of working.”

Taemin fought down a laugh. Moonkyu was freaking out, his knee jiggling a mile a second.

“If you want me to stay, I can.”

“No, then they’ll know I have no idea what I’m doing! I shouldn’t have missed the tech check.” His friend’s eyes were wide in the dark. “I’m doomed.”

Below the booth the stragglers were shuffling into their seats. It was almost show time. The girl in question was already on her seat, her hand hovering above the curtain controls.

Taemin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Jonghyun and Jinki were in the audience and probably waiting for him.

He squeezed his friend’s cheeks. “Good luck. You’ll be great, I know it.”

The auditorium lights flicked off and the booth was plunged into darkness, marking Taemin’s cue to leave.

*

“Who the fuck,” Moonkyu poked Taemin’s bandage with a used chopstick and Jonghyun batted him away, “climbs up a ladder and then falls down it?”

Taemin was propped up with around fifty cushions, kindly donated by the boys at Jonghyun’s hotel. One of them rested under his foot. He’d admit it wasn’t his finest hour; in his rush to get out of the controls booth he’d completely neglected the fact that you don’t go foot first down a ladder. Mouth, meet foot. Foot, meet floor.

Jonghyun had been positively horrified when he found out, but he’d made his peace with it.

“Actually don’t answer that. I would break my leg too if it meant being this spoiled.” Moonkyu rolled up a tissue and stuffed it into the empty noodle box.

Taemin was rather enjoying the piggybacking. But his head was throbbing a bit too intensely, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold Jonghyun’s hand and reassure him he’s okay.

“Did you get the painkillers?” he asked Jinki sleepily.

“Yeah, but we were kind of hoping they could be avoided.”

Taemin frowned at him. “That kind of thinking should be avoided.”

“Well, clearly some parts of you weren’t damaged in the fall.”

“It’s not funny.” Jonghyun grabbed the pills from Jinki’s hand. “I’ll get some water.”

They watched him go.

“You scared him, you know,” Jinki said quietly. “He doesn’t like… accidents like these.”

Taemin tucked that information away for later.

*

When Jonghyun did tell him, he was a little tipsy. They were at a party; Taemin couldn’t say who was throwing it or why but as long as the beer was flowing he didn’t think either of them cared.

They were tangled up in a small chair. It was a tight squeeze, but Jonghyun had always fit well on Taemin’s lap. His breath was warm against Taemin’s cheek, kisses ghosting over his skin now and then.

“Hyunnie,” he said softly and Jonghyun hummed. Jinki was out with his cousins and there was no one to keep guard.

“Am I hurting your leg?” Jonghyun asked softly. His eyes were so bright even in the dark, Taemin would have to ask him how he did that someday.

“You never hurt me.” Taemin nosed his hair. It was cheesy, but it was true. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay. Just be careful.”

Taemin held him a little tighter. “I promise. I won’t make you worry anymore.”

“Good.” Jonghyun rested his head on his shoulder and Taemin traced the lines on his face with a damp thumb. “There’s a lot to worry about.”

“Hmm?” he prompted, careful not to be too prying.

Jonghyun spilled it in bits and pieces, chopped up sentences that sloshed in his mouth like he was on the verge of tears and the more Taemin heard, the more he realised it didn’t matter. There would be a lot Jonghyun would have to deal with - the world was a difficult place - but Taemin didn’t care as long as he was the one Jonghyun came back to.

They fell asleep like that, Taemin’s lips on Jonghyun’s temple, in a stranger’s house, the sun crawling up their legs as the night wore on.

*

Every time Jinki sang, Taemin fell in love all over again. He imagined a future, thirty or forty years from now, when he’d be numb to everything except the beautiful boy in front of him. He didn’t doubt for one second that Jinki, no matter where he was, could make him feel like that forever.

Jonghyun tapped the bump on Jinki’s neck. “There’s an angel in here.”

Taemin agreed so much. There was something in Jinki’s voice that was indescribable; it was something you felt and for Taemin it was the most he had ever felt. And he loved how alive it made him feel. In those moments he went from watching the world to being a part of it. Jinki set his skin on fire and Jonghyun put his soul at ease. The shorter boy had a way of making Taemin open up to him that no one ever had. We find different things in different people, Taemin would grow to understand, and if we burden one person with all our expectations then we’ll never be happy.

He had Moonkyu for the nights he didn’t want to make sense. He had Soojung for the days he wanted to gossip about what everyone else was doing for a change. He had Taesun for when he wanted to just argue and let off some steam. How were those relationships any different from each other? Because their lips didn’t touch, did they count for any less?

“You look pensive.”

Taemin looked up. It was Professor Hwang.

“Mind if I sit down? Every other table in the café is full.”

Taemin shifted his books to make room for Professor Hwang’s mug.

“How’s it going?” the grey-haired man asked warmly.

Taemin decided to be honest. “I haven’t finished this paper at all and I can’t stop procrastinating.”

His professor laughed. “You’re not the only one. I’ll make you deal. You buy me an almond biscotti, and I’ll help you finish.”

“Absolutely!” Taemin leaped to his feet. He couldn’t believe his luck.

“But Taemin,” his professor called after him and he turned around, “no one must know about this.”

Taemin locked his lips and threw the key in his pocket for later.

*

“Who gave you this ring?” Taemin asked, slipping it on. It was almost comically loose on his small hands.

“My mom. It was my grandmother’s. She likes to think it protects me.”

“From what?”

“People,” Jinki said and Taemin understood. Jinki and Jonghyun were shielding him for now, but it would only last for so long. And whatever lay on the other side, who knows, maybe he’d be the one who’d need protecting.

“I like it a lot. It was the first thing I noticed about you.”

Jinki kissed the mole on his nose. “You remember the first time you saw me?”

“Of course. I was sitting under one of the trees in the west lawn, and Kibum was telling us to wait because the president of the music club was on his way. And he made some comment about how you were always late and then he noticed you coming in the distance so I looked up, and your ring caught the sun and I remember thinking like, isn’t it weird that I’ve never seen a man wearing a ring before? Well, not a ring like that anyway. And I don’t know why it left such a deep impression on me but it did. And your face of course,” Taemin added with a smile, a little breathless from talking. “That’s pretty stellar too.”

Jinki wiggled his fingers. “Well, then, I guess this ring is luckier than I thought.”

“You can tell your mom I said thanks.”

Jinki laughed. “Let’s try that in a couple of years.”

*

Jonghyun had a predilection for Dylan that Taemin never really understood. The raspy lyrics delivered with the languidness of a summer’s day were lost on him. But he knew they meant a lot to Jonghyun, and so for his birthday he gifted him a thick anthology of Dylan’s lyrics and, of course, he cried. But kissing the tears away was a task Taemin had never shied away from.

He was, surprisingly, the least emotional of the three. Jinki was more prone to stress and frustration and, now and then, anger. Jonghyun was sensitive in the way of an artist, or so Taemin thought. He always wrote more when something happened.

But maybe it was good to have him around. He could hold them through it; take the edge of it maybe. Tangled up like they were on most mornings, everything fell into place with the ease of a dream. And he never thought to question it till Jinki’s departure loomed over them like reality.

Of course he knew it had to happen, and he knew it would change things. But if Taemin could live this year of his life forever, he would. Because he knew that what he had stumbled on was the kind of thing that happened once in decades, when the planets aligned and fate decided to linger in the wings for a bit.

Watching the outside world seep into their little room wouldn’t be easy. Every part of him protested at the thought of a life without Jinki, even though he’d lived one for years and years. Taemin didn’t know how much of him would leave with the boy, but he knew, for better or for worse, he’d never be whole again.

*

Taemin could get impassioned to a fault. Over the years, he’d heard it called a number of things - impulsive, impractical. He got blood in his cheeks. He skewed his breathing. He cared too much. He tried too hard.

Jonghyun, Jonghyun was the calm to his hurricane. He was a still life; the sun-drenched subject of a 17th century portrait. He would not be moved. He would not fight. He would let the tears out like a mother sends her children off to school - full of pride.

“But you understand, right? We can’t just give up. It’s us, it’s the three of us or none of us,” Taemin said fervently.

Jonghyun gave him a helpless smile and Taemin’s heart puckered, swallowing it with bitterness. If nothing lasted forever, why did the slow slide of Jinki’s ankle up his leg, skin against skin, hair against hair, feel like it would never end?

“What are you thinking about?” Jinki scoured his eyes for a clue days later.

Taemin answered truthfully. “You.”

*

Jonghyun disappeared a week before the graduating class’s farewell. He went home, from what he told Taemin. But Taemin had a feeling Jonghyun was dealing with the departure in his own way. He was letting go, perhaps, of something greater than Taemin could understand. But it was hard to convince himself this wasn’t the end of it. Jinki had been swept up by his worries; he had long, quiet days where he questioned everything and Taemin watched nervously.

The day dawned and it was beautiful. The sun was out and in his simple jeans and white shirt, Jinki was a vision. His smile, his eyes, his voice - everything etched itself deep into Taemin’s mind and fell still like a photograph. They took a lot together, of course. Some more telling than others. Some smiling, some of Taemin gazing at Jinki in naked admiration.

He had a few other seniors he’d miss who were graduating. It was a peculiar feeling, almost like that of sending someone off to war. Time stopped to a halt in these lanes but outside it whirled on and plucked you off your feet. Jinki wouldn’t fall - he was stronger than that - but watching his life packed up so easily into boxes made Taemin realise how truly powerless they were to what came next.

“You’re holding up well.” Moonkyu squeezed Taemin’s shoulder as they watch people milling around Jinki. It was surreal to watch the way people spoke to him. Even with Taemin in earshot, they told him they loved him or he was beautiful or they’d never forget him. And Taemin understood each one. He was all of them, or maybe he was just lucky.

“This is going to be us in a couple of years.” He turned to his friend. “Are you ready to conquer the world of retailing and manufacturing?”

Moonkyu made a retching sound and Taemin agreed wholeheartedly.

As the day wore on some of the fanfare died. The other students made their way home, vaguely discomfiting by this glimpse of the future. The graduating class though, lingered, till the setting sun cast long shadows down the corridors and the inevitably of the end could no longer be denied.

Taemin took Jinki by the hand to a corner, his heart in his throat and he felt the youngest he would probably ever feel again.

Jinki looked at him with questioning eyes but Taemin couldn’t quite put it into words. He pressed his forehead to Jinki’s shirt and breathed his scent in. There were a hundred things he wanted to say. Thank you for looking after me. Thank you for showing me things I always thought I wasn’t made to see. Thank you for teaching me more about myself than I could have ever learned without the courage you gave me.

Which of these was more embarrassing to confess? Probably all of them. But it wasn’t like he couldn’t talk now anyway.

His fingers pressed against the cool stone of Jinki’s ring. What lay on the other side would probably never be as beautiful.

He’d told himself he would do this months ago. Even when it threatened to slip out, he tucked it away for the perfect moment. Because the truth is, for all his claims and his practicality, Taemin fell in love with Jinki the first time he saw him. And for that reason alone, he wanted to end this year of his life with the truth.

He pulled back and looked up. It should have been easier - with all the months they had shared together - to say it, but this was Jinki. Nothing was easy when it came to him and that’s what it made it so special. The fact that no matter how much time passed, Taemin could just close his eyes and be nineteen again.

He knew his voice would come out all wobbly; he knew they both probably looked like they were about to cry (and they probably were).

“Hey,” Jinki said. “What’s going on?”

Taemin’s hands were shaking as they landed on Jinki’s shoulders. Jinki squeezed his waist and time kickstarted again. As much as he wished it, they couldn’t stand here forever.

“Nothing. Come on.”

Taemin grabbed Jinki’s hand and led him out into the world.

*