A Love and a Double-Edged Blade, Part 1
Pairing: 2min
Genre: Tragedy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3000 (Part 1)
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine of course~
Warnings: Character death (highlight to view)
Summary: "A love and a double-edged blade will lead to a bittersweet end." That was all Minho’s grandmother would ever tell him. He’d ask her what it meant, and she was always cryptic in her answers. He figured she was just old. Maybe she was repeating a line from a story she liked. Minho never really thought much of it. He didn’t think it meant anything. How wrong he was.
He knew he shouldn’t be there. The studio closed at eleven, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something weird about the studio, even if no one believed him. He unlocked the door stealthily and crept up the stairs, careful not to make any noise. If he’d been anyone else, making noise wouldn’t have been an issue, because nobody was supposed to be there at that hour, but Minho thought otherwise. He heard the hall clock strike midnight, and he jumped at the chimes.
“It’s okay,” he heard a voice say, “there’s nobody here.” He whipped around to see the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, sitting on the windowsill, his silhouette bathed in moonlight. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know,” he continued.
“I’m sorry,” Minho quickly explained, “but-”
“Neither am I, really,” the boy said with a sweet smile. “But I like to dance and midnight is the only time I can.”
Minho looked around confusedly.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Lee Taemin,” the boy replied. “I’m seventeen in Western age. What’s your name?”
“Uh, Choi Minho, and I’m twenty three in Western age.”
“Choi Minho…that’s a pretty name. Hey, are we friends?”
“Um, sure,” Minho replied awkwardly. Taemin smiled.
“I’ll buy you a drink then; wait right here!” He jumped off of his perch and scampered down the stairs. Minho was very confused. He didn’t have time to collect himself before Taemin reappeared, smiling.
“Here,” he said, handing him a small bottle and keeping one for himself.
“What is it?” Minho asked.
“Banana milk,” Taemin replied, sipping his drink. Minho took a sip and suddenly spit it out.
“This tastes like straight sugar!” Minho sputtered. Taemin pouted, and oddly pinched his own cheek.
“It’s good though!” he said, sipping his again. There were several seconds of silence before he looked up at Minho. “Hey, do you do ballroom?”
“No,” Minho replied, “I’m the pianist for ballroom though.”
“Play something, please” Taemin pleaded.
“Uh, alright,” Minho acquiesced, stepping over to the piano. He began playing one of his favorite waltzes.
Taemin put down his bottle of banana milk and started to dance along, seeming to have an invisible partner. His movements were smooth and precise; far better than any of the students in the studio. He stopped after a little bit, looking at Minho.
“Hey, now that we have the music in our heads, come dance with me!” he proposed.
“I don’t dance,” Minho replied stubbornly.
“Aw,” Taemin said, pinching his cheek again and looking down at his feet.
“Shouldn’t you be at home? Won’t your parents be worried?” Minho asked. Taemin smiled melancholically.
“No,” he said, “my parents aren’t around. I live with my noona, but she’s always with a guy or drunk, so I don’t go home often.”
“Where do you stay then?” Minho wondered. Taemin bit his lip.
“Can I stay with you?” he asked. Minho was taken aback.
“What? No, we don’t even know each other!”
“But I thought we were friends,” Taemin said, once again pinching his cheek. Minho regarded him sadly. He felt bad for the poor kid.
“Well, I…okay, fine, just because I’m nice and don’t want to make you stay with your noona,” he muttered.
“Thanks,” Taemin smiled.
They walked back to Minho’s apartment, Taemin skipping and pointing out completely mundane things like the plants growing in the cracks of the sidewalk and the flickering of neon signs. Minho was curious about him.
He unlocked his door with a yawn.
“I’m going to sleep. You can sleep on the couch there. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” Taemin smiled. He grabbed a blanket and lay down on the couch, still smiling. “Thanks.”
Minho awoke groggily. He put on his glasses, remembering that Taemin was there. He stepped into the living room. It was empty.
“Taemin?” he called. “Taemin?”
Perhaps it had been a strange dream. The blankets were folded in their original position, nothing out of its usual place. Maybe he had dreamt it all up…
But no, there was a note on the fridge.
Thanks -T.
He hadn’t forgotten about him. Far from it. But he had no way to contact him, and he knew the people at the studio wouldn’t believe him if he asked about the mysterious midnight boy.
The third day after meeting Taemin, it struck him. He would probably be at the studio at midnight. He snuck in again that night, and sure enough, there he was, dancing with his imaginary partner to imaginary music.
“Oh, Minho-hyung!” he cried when he saw Minho. “Why didn’t you come visit me?”
“Why did you leave?” Minho countered, slightly annoyed.
“I had to.”
“Why? Where did you go?”
“Were you looking for me?”
“Well, I wanted to know where you were at least,” Minho replied. “Or why you left. I was worried.”
“Worried about me?” Taemin said smilingly. “That means a lot.”
“I just…no, I mean, like, you suddenly disappeared. I was just wondering, that’s all,” Minho clarified. Taemin smiled knowingly and didn’t press the issue.
Minho, on the other hand, was going to press the issue.
“So where’d you go?” he asked.
“Home. Noona texted me and wanted me back.”
“Was it…okay?” Minho asked concernedly. “Like, was she…”
“Yeah she was completely drunk, as usual. It’s fine though,” Taemin replied nonchalantly. He spun around.
“No, it’s not! That’s not a good place for a kid to be.”
“Hyung, will you dance with me?” Taemin asked suddenly. Minho sighed.
“Didn’t I say I didn’t dance?”
“Yeah,” Taemin said, looking at his feet and pinching his cheek.
“Why do you do that?” Minho asked. It was strange.
“Do what?”
“Why do you pinch your cheek all the time?” Minho asked. Taemin looked up at him with a very confused expression.
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You…oh, whatever,” Minho said, shaking his head.
“Hyung, let’s dance,” Taemin persisted.
“No, I don’t dance,” Minho repeated. Taemin reached for his cheek.
“Look! You’re doing it again.” Taemin looked at him, putting his hand down. He wordlessly began to move to his imaginary music. Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. Taemin was kind of cute in the way that he did things without any sort of reason, but it would take a lot of getting used to.
“So, do you come here every night?” Minho asked.
“Yeah, pretty much, unless I can’t slip out.”
“Your sister doesn’t let you out?”
“I’m not allowed out, no,” Taemin replied. Minho narrowed his eyes.
“Why don’t you stay with someone else? She doesn’t sound like a very good guardian. Where…what…I mean, what about your parents?”
“They’re not around,” Taemin said the way he had several days before. “Hyung, do you want some banana milk?”
“No, but you can get some if you want. I’ll sit with you while you drink it,” Minho said kindly. Taemin smiled and scampered down the stairs again.
Taemin was kind of mysterious.
Once he reappeared with his banana milk, he sat down on the floor and motioned for Minho to join him.
“It’s nice to have friends,” he said.
“Yeah,” Minho replied, not entirely sure where this was going. “Look, Taemin, why don’t you come here during the day? Like after school or something? The people at the studio are really nice, I’m sure they’d accept you. And classes aren’t very expensive.”
“I can’t go out.”
“Your noona won’t let you go out at all?” Minho asked, dumbfounded.
“I’m not allowed out, right,” Taemin nodded, sipping his banana milk again.
“Man, she sounds awful,” Minho said absentmindedly.
“No, she’s not,” Taemin replied defensively. “She has good intentions. She’s just is a little irresponsible sometimes, that’s all. She loves me.”
“Still,” Minho said thoughtfully, “I can’t help but wonder why you have to sneak into the dance studio at midnight.” Taemin regarded Minho seriously, his cute looks suddenly having been replaced with a charismatic stare.
“Hyung, is your only job being a pianist?” Taemin asked, his aegyo suddenly reappearing, much to Minho’s confusion.
“No, I have another part time job at a bakery,” Minho replied. “Why?”
“I want to get to know you better. Do you have any siblings?”
“I have a little brother. His name is Minhyuk. What about you? Where do you go to school?”
“Seoul,” Taemin replied. “And my noona’s name is Lee Taehee. She’s a year older than you.”
Minho nodded, and looked at the clock. He could just barely make out that it was nearly one because of the darkness in the studio.
“You should get home,” Minho said, standing up. Taemin looked up at him.
“I don’t want to. Can I come home with you again?” Taemin pleaded. Minho looked at his cute face and felt bad for him.
“Taemin, if I keep bringing you home, people are going to think I’m a pedophile. You’re underage, I’m six years older than you, and we’re both guys. There are so many things wrong with that.”
“Does anyone know about last time?”
“No.”
“Then why should anyone find out about any of the other times?” Taemin asked. He had a point. They were going to Minho’s apartment well after midnight, when most of Minho’s quiet neighborhood was asleep. And Taemin’s noona did not sound appealing in any way.
“You’re not going to disappear on me in the morning, are you?” Minho asked suspiciously.
“I can’t promise that,” Taemin replied with a hint of cheekiness in his voice.
“Fine, then,” Minho replied with a slight smile. Taemin hopped up, beaming, and followed Minho back to his apartment. He slept on the same couch as the first time he’d gone to Minho’s.
And sure enough, Taemin was nowhere to be found the next morning.
“Hyung,” Taemin asked as they sat in the dark studio a few nights later, “have you ever been in a relationship?”
“Yeah,” Minho said, picking at his fingernail absentmindedly. “In high school. I liked her a lot, so when we broke up it was really hard on me.”
“Mm. You know what they say: ‘love is the double-edged blade that leads to a bittersweet end,’ right?” Taemin replied thoughtfully.
“Wait, that’s…isn’t it ‘a love and a double-edged blade?’” Minho asked. “My grandmother used to say ‘and…’”
“But hyung,” Taemin laughed, “that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Do you know what it means then?”
“Yeah! Isn’t it obvious? Hyung, love is something special, something beautiful that makes you happier than anything. But it can hurt you a lot too. It can be really painful. Double-edged blade. So when the love has to end, it’s bittersweet. Because you’re sad it’s over, but you’re left with a lot of good memories.”
“That…makes sense,” Minho responded. Taemin smiled at him.
“Hey, hyung, do you want to dance?” Taemin asked once again.
“No, Taemin. How many times to I have to tell you I don’t dance?”
“Fine,” Taemin muttered, pinching his cheek.
The next few weeks went on similarly, Taemin usually staying weeknights at Minho’s. He didn’t go to the studios on weekends, so Minho could only assume that he was with his noona.
Minho got to know a few small things about Taemin through their nightly meetings. Taemin’s favorite animals were puppies, his favorite color was green, his favorite number was two, and his favorite movie was Princess Mononoke.
Even so, it bothered Minho that he didn’t know anything substantial about his mysterious friend. Whenever Minho asked about Taemin’s parents, his reply was always “they aren’t around.” He never got any real answers that gave him any clue as to where they were. He didn’t know why Taemin always came to the studio. And he didn’t know why Taemin always pinched his cheeks.
And another thing was that every single time they met in the studio, Taemin would always ask if Minho wanted to dance. Minho always said no, but he couldn’t help but feel that it was disappointing Taemin more than just a little bit.
One day Minho bought sunflowers for Taemin on a whim. They just seemed like something he’d like. Something that suited him. Something that would make him smile that beautiful smile that lit up the entire midnight-dark studio.
“Wah, hyung, these are for me?” Taemin cried as Minho offered him the flowers, beaming just as Minho had hoped he would. “Thank you! Sunflowers are my favorites. What’s the occasion?”
“Oh,” Minho mused, thinking about exactly why he had bought Taemin flowers.
Why indeed? He’d never bought flowers for anyone, not even for his own mother. So why?
His mind had settled on an answer before he could ponder anything else.
He’d fallen completely in love with Taemin without even realizing it.
Once Minho had accepted the fact that he was undeniably in love with Taemin, everything seemed to flow from there. He still stubbornly refused to dance, but besides that, Minho acknowledged that he was completely wrapped around Taemin’s finger, even if Taemin didn’t know.
Just spending time with Taemin was blissful.
“Hyung,” Taemin said one day, very slowly. “I think…I think I want you to meet my noona.”
“Really?” Minho asked, suddenly excited that he’d been invited into Taemin’s life.
“Yeah. And you can stay the night at my house. Is that okay? I told her we were coming but I guess that you haven’t told me if you could yet.”
“I can, Taemin, I’d love to meet your noona,” Minho smiled. “Are we going to go now, then?”
“Yeah, why don’t we go now?” Taemin said. He led Minho out of the studio, and to his apartment. It was a first floor flat literally two blocks away from the studio. He stood in front of the door momentarily, just breathing.
“Taemin? Are you okay?” Minho asked, looking down at Taemin’s concerned face. Taemin looked up at him and gave him an awkward smile.
Suddenly, Minho felt Taemin’s fingers on his hand.
“Don’t be nervous, hyung,” Taemin said shakily. “Noona doesn’t bite.”
“I’m…I’m not, Taemin,” Minho said with hesitation. “Are you okay?”
“What?” Taemin said, the awkwardness suddenly dissipating, and his fingers disappearing from Minho’s hand. “I’m fine.” He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The apartment was small. Extremely small. There was a bathroom, a main room, and a bedroom. The bedroom door was closed, and Taemin didn’t make any motion to go towards it. There was a futon set out on the ground in the main room next to the table and the small kitchenette, which is where Taemin sat.
“Noona’s not home yet,” Taemin explained. “Why don’t we play Go while we wait?”
Minho had always found Go to be very boring, and evidently Taemin thought so too, because he’d fallen asleep around two in the morning.
Minho stayed up, just watching him sleep. He looked peaceful and exuded a certain glow which seemed dulled when he was awake. It just made Minho even more curious.
Suddenly he heard a big crash and he jumped up. Someone unlocked the door, and as the door opened, Minho saw that it was a girl.
Taemin’s sister looked like him. A voluptuous, female, and very drunk version of him.
“Who are you?” she demanded indistinctly as she staggered over to the kitchenette, reaching for one of the many bottles of soju they had there. Minho walked over to her.
“I’m Choi Minho, Taemin’s friend,” he said politely. “And I don’t think you really need any more soju tonight, Taehee-ssi.”
“Wow, you’re hot,” she replied, her breath smelling horribly of alcohol. “Choi Minho you said? Damn, you’re hot. Here, let’s drink together!”
“No than-” Minho began, but Taehee pushed him down so he was sitting at the table. She poured two small cups of soju and downed hers in one gulp. When she saw that Minho wasn’t drinking his, she downed that as well.
“So,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re Tae’s friend?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Yeah, I think he said something about you coming here. How old are you, Choi Minho?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Close enough. So, now that you and I are friends, why don’t we take it to the bedroom where Tae can’t hear us?”
“No thanks,” Minho said without missing a beat. He glanced over at Taemin, and even being as drunk as she was, Taehee caught the gesture.
“So you’d rather fuck my little brother?”
“What? I didn’t say that!” Minho cried.
“But you like Taemin, don’t you?”
“He’s a very good frien-”
“You know what I mean, Choi Minho,” she said, completely straight faced. She and Taemin had the same tendency to switch moods faster than Minho could keep up.
“I…yeah, I like him,” Minho replied quietly. He looked up at Taehee questioningly, and relaxed when it looked like she was smiling.
“I’m glad,” she said calmly. She heaved a great sigh and continued. “He needs someone to look after him. I’m a terrible guardian, I know that. He needs to be loved.”
“I take good care of him,” Minho explained. “He’s really important to me.”
“That’s good,” she said, twirling her soju glass around.
“Uh, Taehee-ssi, I was wondering…why does Taemin always pinch his cheeks when he’s disappointed?”
“Oh, you noticed that? I was hoping he’d have stopped that by now,” she sighed. “Our parents left us on our own when Tae was just eight. I was only fifteen but I had to drop out of school and get a job to support us. Every time he cried, and every time he wanted something I couldn’t give him, I would pinch his cheek. I don’t know why I did it. It wasn’t that I pinched him hard or anything, but I guess I thought I was reassuring him. Or maybe scolding him. Either way, it’s become something he does to cope when he’s disappointed.”
“I…I had no idea,” Minho said. “Your parents…left you?”
“Yeah,” Taehee replied. “We’d be doing great now if it wasn’t for the medical bills.”
“What?”
“Tae’s medical bills. They eat up all of the money I earn. That’s why I live in this dump.”
“Why does Taemin have medical bills?” Minho asked, suddenly having an ominous feeling in his gut.
“Didn’t he tell you?” Taehee asked solemnly. “Taemin is dying.”
part 2 >>
Genre: Tragedy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3000 (Part 1)
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine of course~
Warnings: Character death (highlight to view)
Summary: "A love and a double-edged blade will lead to a bittersweet end." That was all Minho’s grandmother would ever tell him. He’d ask her what it meant, and she was always cryptic in her answers. He figured she was just old. Maybe she was repeating a line from a story she liked. Minho never really thought much of it. He didn’t think it meant anything. How wrong he was.
He knew he shouldn’t be there. The studio closed at eleven, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something weird about the studio, even if no one believed him. He unlocked the door stealthily and crept up the stairs, careful not to make any noise. If he’d been anyone else, making noise wouldn’t have been an issue, because nobody was supposed to be there at that hour, but Minho thought otherwise. He heard the hall clock strike midnight, and he jumped at the chimes.
“It’s okay,” he heard a voice say, “there’s nobody here.” He whipped around to see the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, sitting on the windowsill, his silhouette bathed in moonlight. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know,” he continued.
“I’m sorry,” Minho quickly explained, “but-”
“Neither am I, really,” the boy said with a sweet smile. “But I like to dance and midnight is the only time I can.”
Minho looked around confusedly.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Lee Taemin,” the boy replied. “I’m seventeen in Western age. What’s your name?”
“Uh, Choi Minho, and I’m twenty three in Western age.”
“Choi Minho…that’s a pretty name. Hey, are we friends?”
“Um, sure,” Minho replied awkwardly. Taemin smiled.
“I’ll buy you a drink then; wait right here!” He jumped off of his perch and scampered down the stairs. Minho was very confused. He didn’t have time to collect himself before Taemin reappeared, smiling.
“Here,” he said, handing him a small bottle and keeping one for himself.
“What is it?” Minho asked.
“Banana milk,” Taemin replied, sipping his drink. Minho took a sip and suddenly spit it out.
“This tastes like straight sugar!” Minho sputtered. Taemin pouted, and oddly pinched his own cheek.
“It’s good though!” he said, sipping his again. There were several seconds of silence before he looked up at Minho. “Hey, do you do ballroom?”
“No,” Minho replied, “I’m the pianist for ballroom though.”
“Play something, please” Taemin pleaded.
“Uh, alright,” Minho acquiesced, stepping over to the piano. He began playing one of his favorite waltzes.
Taemin put down his bottle of banana milk and started to dance along, seeming to have an invisible partner. His movements were smooth and precise; far better than any of the students in the studio. He stopped after a little bit, looking at Minho.
“Hey, now that we have the music in our heads, come dance with me!” he proposed.
“I don’t dance,” Minho replied stubbornly.
“Aw,” Taemin said, pinching his cheek again and looking down at his feet.
“Shouldn’t you be at home? Won’t your parents be worried?” Minho asked. Taemin smiled melancholically.
“No,” he said, “my parents aren’t around. I live with my noona, but she’s always with a guy or drunk, so I don’t go home often.”
“Where do you stay then?” Minho wondered. Taemin bit his lip.
“Can I stay with you?” he asked. Minho was taken aback.
“What? No, we don’t even know each other!”
“But I thought we were friends,” Taemin said, once again pinching his cheek. Minho regarded him sadly. He felt bad for the poor kid.
“Well, I…okay, fine, just because I’m nice and don’t want to make you stay with your noona,” he muttered.
“Thanks,” Taemin smiled.
They walked back to Minho’s apartment, Taemin skipping and pointing out completely mundane things like the plants growing in the cracks of the sidewalk and the flickering of neon signs. Minho was curious about him.
He unlocked his door with a yawn.
“I’m going to sleep. You can sleep on the couch there. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” Taemin smiled. He grabbed a blanket and lay down on the couch, still smiling. “Thanks.”
Minho awoke groggily. He put on his glasses, remembering that Taemin was there. He stepped into the living room. It was empty.
“Taemin?” he called. “Taemin?”
Perhaps it had been a strange dream. The blankets were folded in their original position, nothing out of its usual place. Maybe he had dreamt it all up…
But no, there was a note on the fridge.
Thanks -T.
He hadn’t forgotten about him. Far from it. But he had no way to contact him, and he knew the people at the studio wouldn’t believe him if he asked about the mysterious midnight boy.
The third day after meeting Taemin, it struck him. He would probably be at the studio at midnight. He snuck in again that night, and sure enough, there he was, dancing with his imaginary partner to imaginary music.
“Oh, Minho-hyung!” he cried when he saw Minho. “Why didn’t you come visit me?”
“Why did you leave?” Minho countered, slightly annoyed.
“I had to.”
“Why? Where did you go?”
“Were you looking for me?”
“Well, I wanted to know where you were at least,” Minho replied. “Or why you left. I was worried.”
“Worried about me?” Taemin said smilingly. “That means a lot.”
“I just…no, I mean, like, you suddenly disappeared. I was just wondering, that’s all,” Minho clarified. Taemin smiled knowingly and didn’t press the issue.
Minho, on the other hand, was going to press the issue.
“So where’d you go?” he asked.
“Home. Noona texted me and wanted me back.”
“Was it…okay?” Minho asked concernedly. “Like, was she…”
“Yeah she was completely drunk, as usual. It’s fine though,” Taemin replied nonchalantly. He spun around.
“No, it’s not! That’s not a good place for a kid to be.”
“Hyung, will you dance with me?” Taemin asked suddenly. Minho sighed.
“Didn’t I say I didn’t dance?”
“Yeah,” Taemin said, looking at his feet and pinching his cheek.
“Why do you do that?” Minho asked. It was strange.
“Do what?”
“Why do you pinch your cheek all the time?” Minho asked. Taemin looked up at him with a very confused expression.
“I…don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You…oh, whatever,” Minho said, shaking his head.
“Hyung, let’s dance,” Taemin persisted.
“No, I don’t dance,” Minho repeated. Taemin reached for his cheek.
“Look! You’re doing it again.” Taemin looked at him, putting his hand down. He wordlessly began to move to his imaginary music. Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. Taemin was kind of cute in the way that he did things without any sort of reason, but it would take a lot of getting used to.
“So, do you come here every night?” Minho asked.
“Yeah, pretty much, unless I can’t slip out.”
“Your sister doesn’t let you out?”
“I’m not allowed out, no,” Taemin replied. Minho narrowed his eyes.
“Why don’t you stay with someone else? She doesn’t sound like a very good guardian. Where…what…I mean, what about your parents?”
“They’re not around,” Taemin said the way he had several days before. “Hyung, do you want some banana milk?”
“No, but you can get some if you want. I’ll sit with you while you drink it,” Minho said kindly. Taemin smiled and scampered down the stairs again.
Taemin was kind of mysterious.
Once he reappeared with his banana milk, he sat down on the floor and motioned for Minho to join him.
“It’s nice to have friends,” he said.
“Yeah,” Minho replied, not entirely sure where this was going. “Look, Taemin, why don’t you come here during the day? Like after school or something? The people at the studio are really nice, I’m sure they’d accept you. And classes aren’t very expensive.”
“I can’t go out.”
“Your noona won’t let you go out at all?” Minho asked, dumbfounded.
“I’m not allowed out, right,” Taemin nodded, sipping his banana milk again.
“Man, she sounds awful,” Minho said absentmindedly.
“No, she’s not,” Taemin replied defensively. “She has good intentions. She’s just is a little irresponsible sometimes, that’s all. She loves me.”
“Still,” Minho said thoughtfully, “I can’t help but wonder why you have to sneak into the dance studio at midnight.” Taemin regarded Minho seriously, his cute looks suddenly having been replaced with a charismatic stare.
“Hyung, is your only job being a pianist?” Taemin asked, his aegyo suddenly reappearing, much to Minho’s confusion.
“No, I have another part time job at a bakery,” Minho replied. “Why?”
“I want to get to know you better. Do you have any siblings?”
“I have a little brother. His name is Minhyuk. What about you? Where do you go to school?”
“Seoul,” Taemin replied. “And my noona’s name is Lee Taehee. She’s a year older than you.”
Minho nodded, and looked at the clock. He could just barely make out that it was nearly one because of the darkness in the studio.
“You should get home,” Minho said, standing up. Taemin looked up at him.
“I don’t want to. Can I come home with you again?” Taemin pleaded. Minho looked at his cute face and felt bad for him.
“Taemin, if I keep bringing you home, people are going to think I’m a pedophile. You’re underage, I’m six years older than you, and we’re both guys. There are so many things wrong with that.”
“Does anyone know about last time?”
“No.”
“Then why should anyone find out about any of the other times?” Taemin asked. He had a point. They were going to Minho’s apartment well after midnight, when most of Minho’s quiet neighborhood was asleep. And Taemin’s noona did not sound appealing in any way.
“You’re not going to disappear on me in the morning, are you?” Minho asked suspiciously.
“I can’t promise that,” Taemin replied with a hint of cheekiness in his voice.
“Fine, then,” Minho replied with a slight smile. Taemin hopped up, beaming, and followed Minho back to his apartment. He slept on the same couch as the first time he’d gone to Minho’s.
And sure enough, Taemin was nowhere to be found the next morning.
“Hyung,” Taemin asked as they sat in the dark studio a few nights later, “have you ever been in a relationship?”
“Yeah,” Minho said, picking at his fingernail absentmindedly. “In high school. I liked her a lot, so when we broke up it was really hard on me.”
“Mm. You know what they say: ‘love is the double-edged blade that leads to a bittersweet end,’ right?” Taemin replied thoughtfully.
“Wait, that’s…isn’t it ‘a love and a double-edged blade?’” Minho asked. “My grandmother used to say ‘and…’”
“But hyung,” Taemin laughed, “that doesn’t make any sense.”
“Do you know what it means then?”
“Yeah! Isn’t it obvious? Hyung, love is something special, something beautiful that makes you happier than anything. But it can hurt you a lot too. It can be really painful. Double-edged blade. So when the love has to end, it’s bittersweet. Because you’re sad it’s over, but you’re left with a lot of good memories.”
“That…makes sense,” Minho responded. Taemin smiled at him.
“Hey, hyung, do you want to dance?” Taemin asked once again.
“No, Taemin. How many times to I have to tell you I don’t dance?”
“Fine,” Taemin muttered, pinching his cheek.
The next few weeks went on similarly, Taemin usually staying weeknights at Minho’s. He didn’t go to the studios on weekends, so Minho could only assume that he was with his noona.
Minho got to know a few small things about Taemin through their nightly meetings. Taemin’s favorite animals were puppies, his favorite color was green, his favorite number was two, and his favorite movie was Princess Mononoke.
Even so, it bothered Minho that he didn’t know anything substantial about his mysterious friend. Whenever Minho asked about Taemin’s parents, his reply was always “they aren’t around.” He never got any real answers that gave him any clue as to where they were. He didn’t know why Taemin always came to the studio. And he didn’t know why Taemin always pinched his cheeks.
And another thing was that every single time they met in the studio, Taemin would always ask if Minho wanted to dance. Minho always said no, but he couldn’t help but feel that it was disappointing Taemin more than just a little bit.
One day Minho bought sunflowers for Taemin on a whim. They just seemed like something he’d like. Something that suited him. Something that would make him smile that beautiful smile that lit up the entire midnight-dark studio.
“Wah, hyung, these are for me?” Taemin cried as Minho offered him the flowers, beaming just as Minho had hoped he would. “Thank you! Sunflowers are my favorites. What’s the occasion?”
“Oh,” Minho mused, thinking about exactly why he had bought Taemin flowers.
Why indeed? He’d never bought flowers for anyone, not even for his own mother. So why?
His mind had settled on an answer before he could ponder anything else.
He’d fallen completely in love with Taemin without even realizing it.
Once Minho had accepted the fact that he was undeniably in love with Taemin, everything seemed to flow from there. He still stubbornly refused to dance, but besides that, Minho acknowledged that he was completely wrapped around Taemin’s finger, even if Taemin didn’t know.
Just spending time with Taemin was blissful.
“Hyung,” Taemin said one day, very slowly. “I think…I think I want you to meet my noona.”
“Really?” Minho asked, suddenly excited that he’d been invited into Taemin’s life.
“Yeah. And you can stay the night at my house. Is that okay? I told her we were coming but I guess that you haven’t told me if you could yet.”
“I can, Taemin, I’d love to meet your noona,” Minho smiled. “Are we going to go now, then?”
“Yeah, why don’t we go now?” Taemin said. He led Minho out of the studio, and to his apartment. It was a first floor flat literally two blocks away from the studio. He stood in front of the door momentarily, just breathing.
“Taemin? Are you okay?” Minho asked, looking down at Taemin’s concerned face. Taemin looked up at him and gave him an awkward smile.
Suddenly, Minho felt Taemin’s fingers on his hand.
“Don’t be nervous, hyung,” Taemin said shakily. “Noona doesn’t bite.”
“I’m…I’m not, Taemin,” Minho said with hesitation. “Are you okay?”
“What?” Taemin said, the awkwardness suddenly dissipating, and his fingers disappearing from Minho’s hand. “I’m fine.” He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The apartment was small. Extremely small. There was a bathroom, a main room, and a bedroom. The bedroom door was closed, and Taemin didn’t make any motion to go towards it. There was a futon set out on the ground in the main room next to the table and the small kitchenette, which is where Taemin sat.
“Noona’s not home yet,” Taemin explained. “Why don’t we play Go while we wait?”
Minho had always found Go to be very boring, and evidently Taemin thought so too, because he’d fallen asleep around two in the morning.
Minho stayed up, just watching him sleep. He looked peaceful and exuded a certain glow which seemed dulled when he was awake. It just made Minho even more curious.
Suddenly he heard a big crash and he jumped up. Someone unlocked the door, and as the door opened, Minho saw that it was a girl.
Taemin’s sister looked like him. A voluptuous, female, and very drunk version of him.
“Who are you?” she demanded indistinctly as she staggered over to the kitchenette, reaching for one of the many bottles of soju they had there. Minho walked over to her.
“I’m Choi Minho, Taemin’s friend,” he said politely. “And I don’t think you really need any more soju tonight, Taehee-ssi.”
“Wow, you’re hot,” she replied, her breath smelling horribly of alcohol. “Choi Minho you said? Damn, you’re hot. Here, let’s drink together!”
“No than-” Minho began, but Taehee pushed him down so he was sitting at the table. She poured two small cups of soju and downed hers in one gulp. When she saw that Minho wasn’t drinking his, she downed that as well.
“So,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re Tae’s friend?”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Yeah, I think he said something about you coming here. How old are you, Choi Minho?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Close enough. So, now that you and I are friends, why don’t we take it to the bedroom where Tae can’t hear us?”
“No thanks,” Minho said without missing a beat. He glanced over at Taemin, and even being as drunk as she was, Taehee caught the gesture.
“So you’d rather fuck my little brother?”
“What? I didn’t say that!” Minho cried.
“But you like Taemin, don’t you?”
“He’s a very good frien-”
“You know what I mean, Choi Minho,” she said, completely straight faced. She and Taemin had the same tendency to switch moods faster than Minho could keep up.
“I…yeah, I like him,” Minho replied quietly. He looked up at Taehee questioningly, and relaxed when it looked like she was smiling.
“I’m glad,” she said calmly. She heaved a great sigh and continued. “He needs someone to look after him. I’m a terrible guardian, I know that. He needs to be loved.”
“I take good care of him,” Minho explained. “He’s really important to me.”
“That’s good,” she said, twirling her soju glass around.
“Uh, Taehee-ssi, I was wondering…why does Taemin always pinch his cheeks when he’s disappointed?”
“Oh, you noticed that? I was hoping he’d have stopped that by now,” she sighed. “Our parents left us on our own when Tae was just eight. I was only fifteen but I had to drop out of school and get a job to support us. Every time he cried, and every time he wanted something I couldn’t give him, I would pinch his cheek. I don’t know why I did it. It wasn’t that I pinched him hard or anything, but I guess I thought I was reassuring him. Or maybe scolding him. Either way, it’s become something he does to cope when he’s disappointed.”
“I…I had no idea,” Minho said. “Your parents…left you?”
“Yeah,” Taehee replied. “We’d be doing great now if it wasn’t for the medical bills.”
“What?”
“Tae’s medical bills. They eat up all of the money I earn. That’s why I live in this dump.”
“Why does Taemin have medical bills?” Minho asked, suddenly having an ominous feeling in his gut.
“Didn’t he tell you?” Taehee asked solemnly. “Taemin is dying.”
part 2 >>