[ontae] the things he was meant to do
the things he was meant to do
ontae // pg-13 // 5,922 words
a/n: I didn't find this until after I wrote this fic, but: ontae color palette! It's even titled properly. ;)
Onew gets his first assignment when he’s seventeen years old. He’s excited-as all angels are when they get their assignments. After all, it’s what he’s been preparing and training for since the day he was born.
Getting the assignment is somewhat different than what he’d expected. He’s not sure exactly how he thought it would go, but he’d imagined a piece of paper with instructions on it, a name perhaps, or a photograph of someone he hasn’t yet met.
Instead, when he gets called into the big white room where assignments are handed out, he just stands there at the center of the round chamber, blinking against the brightness of the glossy white surfaces surrounding him, and looks for the source of the voice that tells him where to go.
“What will happen after I go there?” Onew asks. “What do I do after that?”
“You will do what you feel is right.” The deep, imperious voice reverberates all around the room. “You will understand your task when the time comes for you to do it.”
And that’s awfully vague, and Onew desperately wants to ask for more information, for some hint that will help him figure out what his assignment actually is, but then he’s being dismissed and the door he came through is opening again, so he just bows obediently and turns to leave instead.
------
He does his best to do what they told him, to do what he feels is right, and that leads him somewhere he would never have imagined he’d go.
Things happen in quick succession: he’s singing in some sort of talent scouting audition, and then he’s being recruited as a trainee for an entertainment company, and then he’s being chosen to debut as the leader of a boyband.
At first he wonders if somehow he messed things up somewhere, because this is just too bizarre, because singing and dancing on stage in front of hysterically screaming fangirls just cannot be his assignment.
But he thinks about it for a while, and he meets the other boys he’s debuting with-carefree and outgoing Jonghyun, who has a mischievous nature but knows how to use his big eyes and pouty lips to get what he wants; Key who comes equipped with more attitude and eyerolls than Onew had realized could exist in one person; athletic Minho who just seems quietly charismatic at first but laughs louder and longer than all of them; and Taemin, sweet maknae Taemin, whom everyone sees as being the innocent baby, but Onew knows right away is so much more than that.
Onew gets to know these boys, and it’s remarkably easy to learn to laugh and joke around with them, to feel like friends, or family, and he thinks, “I guess this is it, then; this is them-my assignment.”
He still doesn’t know exactly how he’s supposed to be protecting them though. From what he can tell, they don’t really need protecting; they seem to do just fine on their own. But Onew remembers the day he got his orders, the voice that had told him that when the time came, he’d know, so he tells himself not to worry about it too much.
Instead, he lets himself fall into the routine of singing and dancing and learning new songs and new choreography, of filmings and photoshoots and being paid to act silly or to look pretty. He fits himself into this life he’s entered into-and it feels right to him, so he figures he must be on the right track. Do what feels right to you, they’d always said. Living with these boys, making them laugh with his offbeat comments and impressions, looking out for each other, going onstage to perform with them-that’s what feels right to Onew right now, so he just keeps going, and figures that if there’s something else he should be doing-well, he’ll figure out what that is eventually.
------
One day, when they have a moment alone, Taemin says quietly to Onew, “Hyung, you’re not like us, are you?”
It could mean a hundred different things. It could mean, “You’re clumsier than us, aren’t you?” or “You’re more talented than us, aren’t you?” or “You’re more mature than us, aren’t you?” It could mean a hundred different things, but somehow, Onew knows right away that Taemin’s referring to that.
He glances around to make sure no one’s listening before asking, “How did you figure it out?”
Taemin shrugs. His lips are curved into a slight smile, and he looks proud to have been right. Onew asks again-”No, really, how did you know?” -but it doesn’t seem like Taemin is going to answer, so finally he just sighs and makes Taemin swear not to tell anyone.
“The thing is,” he says, “people aren’t really supposed to know. I think I could get in trouble if people find out about me.”
Taemin nods emphatically. “Of course,” he says. “I won’t tell anyone.” He looks seriously at Onew for a minute, then adds, “I don’t want to tell anyone.”
Like, it’s special that only I know. Like, I want to be the only one who knows about Onew hyung.
Onew can’t help the pleased flutter in his chest when he realizes that’s what Taemin is really saying.
------
Taemin has lots of questions. Whenever they have a minute to spare where no one else is in the room, or at least no one is close enough to hear, Taemin wants to know more about it. About Onew being an angel.
“What’s it like?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” says Onew. “What’s being human like?”
“It’s normal,” says Taemin, laughing.
“Well, being an angel is normal to me,” says Onew. “I don’t know what it’s like to be anything else.”
Taemin considers this, and seems to decide he’s satisfied with Onew’s answer. From across the room, a stylist noona is calling him, and he heads toward her, a bounce in his step.
The next day, when they’re in the car, Taemin asks, “Do you have special powers?”
Onew claps a hand over Taemin’s mouth, then looks around carefully to make sure none of the others heard, but they all seem to be asleep, and the music playing over the radio is loud enough that Taemin probably couldn’t be heard from the front seat anyway. Onew glances around once more and then pokes the back of Jonghyun’s head to make sure he’s really asleep; he just snuffles softly and slouches further down the seat. Satsified, Onew answers Taemin’s question, keeping his voice low.
“I have wings, and good eyesight, and good hearing,” he says. “Other than that-it’s not a power, exactly, or anyway not something I can control, but supposedly if there’s something I need to do, whatever needs to happen in order for me to be able to do it will happen.”
“That’s kind of vague,” says Taemin. “What does that even mean?”
Onew makes a face. “I don’t know either. They just tell us these things, but never in enough detail for us to actually understand it. Hopefully it will work if I ever need it, but-I mean, I can’t give you an example or anything.”
“Weird,” says Taemin. Onew looks at him. Taemin grins. “You’re weird,” he says.
Onew smiles sheepishly. “Probably,” he agrees.
------
“I want to see them,” Taemin says one day. Onew doesn’t have to ask what exactly it is Taemin wants to see; he’s been expecting Taemin to ask ever since the day Taemin’d revealed that he knew.
They’ve just finished a photoshoot and are changing back into their own clothes. “Later,” Onew promises.
Later, when the others are bickering over the television in the living room, Onew gets up and walks into the bedroom. Taemin follows him a moment later. The others are too preoccupied to notice.
Onew waits for Taemin to lock the door. Then Taemin’s leaning against the door, expectant. Onew feels hugely self-conscious suddenly, but he turns his back to Taemin and pulls his shirt off over his head- he doesn’t need to, really, but it’s more comfortable this way, without the awkward restricting feeling that comes with forcing his wings to manifest themselves through a layer of fabric. He takes a deep breath, and then when he lets it out, he shakes himself loose mentally, lets himself relax the part of his mind that is always focused on keeping his wings hidden.
He doesn’t feel anything change-the wings are always there; it’s just a matter of whether he allows people to see them-but he hears Taemin’s soft breath behind him, and he knows he can see them.
Onew doesn’t hear Taemin step forward; it’s a shock when he suddenly feels fingertips grazing against the crest of his wings. He jumps a little, and the fingers are gone again.
“I’m sorry,” says Taemin, quickly.
“It’s fine,” says Onew. “I mean, it’s fine, you can touch them-I was just-surprised.”
“Oh,” says Taemin, sounding pleased and relieved. He touches Onew’s wings again, lightly at first, then stroking a little more surely, letting his fingertips sink just the slightest bit into the soft white feathers. Onew has to suppress a shiver.
The thing is, no one’s really touched his wings before. A couple of times, on accident, he’s brushed them against people, but no one’s ever purposely touched them. It’s new, and it feels good, and Onew finds himself biting his lip as Taemin’s fingers grow surer, stroke down over more of his wing, press deeper into the feathers.
And then, as Taemin moves closer and keeps petting, keeps touching his wings, his hands stroking continuously and his body heat so close behind the bare skin of Onew’s back, and Onew realizes it feels good in a different way too, in a way that maybe it shouldn’t. He shifts uncomfortably; he thinks he should tell Taemin to stop, but he doesn’t, because he doesn’t want Taemin to ask why, and because he doesn’t want Taemin to think it’s his fault. And because, if Onew’s being honest with himself, it feels really good.
A little moan escapes his lips before he can stop it. Taemin stops, though his fingers are still resting lightly on Onew’s wing, just barely touching the feathers about halfway down. Onew steps away quickly. He wants to hide his face in his hands.
Taemin steps forward too, cautiously. “Hyung, are you-” He takes hold of Onew’s shoulder, his fingers warm and smooth on Onew’s bare skin. Onew’s wondering whether he should pull away, but before he can make the decision, Taemin’s come closer to him, sliding his hand down Onew’s shoulder, down his arm, falling into a loose grasp just above his elbow. He pulls, and Onew half turns. He opens his mouth to say something-to apologize, or to ask Taemin to leave-he’s not quite sure which. But Taemin cuts him off with a press of his mouth to Onew’s parted lips.
“Oh,” breathes Onew when they pull apart. He turns the rest of the way, and Taemin’s standing right there, and Onew’s supposed to be the older and more experienced one, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He slips tentative hands under the hem of Taemin’s shirt, thumbs stroking the soft skin over his hipbones, and that seems to be okay, because Taemin leans in to kiss him again.
Things rapidly escalate from there: they’re kissing, and then Taemin’s shirt is off, and then Taemin’s lithe fingers are unbuttoning Onew’s pants, and then Onew’s pushing him backwards until Taemin’s knees hit the bed and they both land heavily on the mattress. Onew has a split second to think how maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, that maybe this falls into the realm of the things he’s supposed to be protecting Taemin from rather than the things he’s supposed to be doing to protect Taemin; but then Taemin’s sliding a slender hand into Onew’s pants, and whatever thoughts Onew might have been having quickly dissipate.
------
He does think about it afterwards.
This is what he thinks: logically, rationally, it’s probably wrong; but before he came here, he was always told that as an angel, the right thing to do is always what feels right, what his instinct tells him to do, and the thing is, sleeping with Taemin, touching him-it doesn’t feel wrong.
So Onew figures it’s probably okay, and when Taemin catches his eye and nods toward the bedroom the next day, a meaningful glint in his eye, Onew grins and follows him without a second thought.
------
Taemin asks him one day where his wings go when they disappear.
They’re lying in bed, murmuring quietly. Onew’s propped himself up on an elbow, and Taemin is lying on his side next to him, fingers trailing absently through the white feathers that cascade down Onew’s back.
“They’re still there,” says Onew. “They’re always there, but if I concentrate in just the right way, I can make it so that no one can see them. And then if I concentrate just a little bit more, I can make it so it’s like they’re not there, so that they don’t stick out or bump into things, and people can’t feel them even if they touch them. It’s like they’re not there, but they really are.”
Taemin makes a musing humming noise and continues petting Onew’s wings softly. After a minute or two, he clears his throat.
“Hyung,” he says in pleasant tones, “there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Hmm? And what’s that?” Onew’s eyes have drifted closed, and everything is just comfortable, and he wants to stay here forever.
“The thing is,” Taemin is saying beside him. “The thing is, you don’t hide your wings as well as you think you do.”
Onew’s eyes snap open again. He looks at Taemin, who’s smiling up at him, long eyelashes fluttering as he blinks, looking exactly like a cat who’s particularly pleased with the discovery it’s made.
“What do you mean?” asks Onew, suddenly wary. Taemin’s smile widens, even as he bites his lip to try to hide it.
“Maybe you lose your concentration sometimes without realizing it,” says Taemin, “because I’m pretty sure I’ve felt feathers before.”
Onew falls into a stunned silence, and Taemin continues happily, “Like I”ll just be walking, and then suddenly I think I can feel feathers brushing against my arm, only when I look up, there’s just you.” He thinks for a moment, then adds, less surely, “And then sometimes when you’re standing in the light, and I look at you-I’m not sure, but-for a moment I think I can see a faint outline, just a trace, or a shadow of-something-of your wings, spread out behind you.”
Onew doesn’t know what to think. If what Taemin is saying is true-and it must be-does that mean other people know about him too?
His fears must show on his face, because Taemin hurriedly rubs his arm reassuringly and says, “Don’t worry-no one else has noticed.” He frowns a little. “Actually, I don’t know if they can see it. I remember a long time ago, one time, when I thought it looked like you had wings, I asked Key if he noticed anything strange about you, but he said-he gave me a weird look and said I needed to get more sleep.”
Onew relaxes. That’s right. They shouldn’t be able to see or touch his wings. He’s fairly certain that things like what Taemin’s saying-slips of his concentration, wing-shaped shadows in the sunlight-can’t happen, or are extremely unlikely to. Just like he wouldn’t accidentally forget to put clothes on and wander outside naked-he would notice if he was walking around with his wings out for the world to see.
Which brings up another concern-why can Taemin see his wings, why can he feel it when Onew brings his wings up to cover him protectively sometimes as they walk through unfamilar places, or when overexcited fans come just a little too close to them?
He should figure this out; it seems important, this exception to the rule. But then Taemin’s pushing at his shoulder, and Onew recognizes the look on his face by now, so he lets Taemin roll him onto his back and climb over to straddle his hips. And then when Taemin leans down to press his lips against Onew’s skin, Onew decides that whatever it is, whatever the reason for Taemin’s being able to see right through the facade he puts up-it’s not so important that it can’t wait.
------
They’re all upset when Minho hurts his leg, but Onew takes it the hardest. He’s speechless when he hears the news, and can’t do anything but sit down heavily on the floor. Taemin looks over at the space beside him where his hyung was a moment ago, and then down at where Onew’s sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, breathing rapidly with his hands clasped over his nose and mouth. He kneels down and rubs Onew’s back in small, soothing circles, even though, when Onew glances over at him, his own face looks drawn and pale too.
Taemin doesn’t say anything, not with Jonghyun and Key standing there too, but later, after night falls and they’re laying in bed, he says, “Are you worried because of the angel thing? Because of your assignment?”
Onew lies in his own bed, staring up through the darkness at the ceiling. After a moment, he speaks: “I should have been there. I should have stopped it from happening.”
“I don’t think it’s your fault, hyung,” Taemin says. “I don’t think they can blame you for something like that. You had no way of knowing it was going to happen. You weren’t even anywhere near him when it happened; there was no way they would have expected you to stop it.”
“How do you know that, Taeminnie?” Onew sighs; the dejected puff of air sounds too loud in the silent room. “How can you know what they expect from me when you’ve never even met them?”
“I just know,” Taemin says simply. Onew sighs again, and Taemin adds, “I know that if they’re really so all-knowing and just, they’ll know you couldn’t be there to stop Minho from getting hurt. They’ll know you’re doing your best, and they’ll be proud of you for it.” He hesitates, then says, very quietly, “I’m proud of you, hyung.”
Somehow, that makes Onew feel better. He doesn’t know if the rest of what Taemin said is true, if it’s really okay that he wasn’t there for Minho, but. Taemin’s proud of him, he said, and that makes Onew feel better.
------
Things go on as usual. Minho gets better after a few weeks. Even though Taemin keeps reassuring him that it wasn’t his fault, Onew is glad anyway-both because Minho’s his friend and he cares about him, and because, despite Taemin’s words, he still can’t stop the occasional worry that creeps into his mind about whether he’s really fulfilling his duty.
They’re busy, performing on some show or another almost every day, and doing interviews and photoshoots on the days in between. Still, Onew’s happy. He and Taemin sneak kisses whenever they have a spare moment-to say hi, I see you, or as a promise for what will come later, or just for the sake of kissing. Even when they’re all bone-tired, no strength left by the time they return home to do anything but sleep, all it takes is one drowsy smile from Taemin to him feel peaceful and warm.
They’re all happy, Onew thinks. He sees Jonghyun and Key teasing a beaming Taemin for being so excited that he gets to sing more now, while Minho watches and laughs along, and he thinks, things are good.
“Hyung, what’s wrong with your face?” says Key.
“What?” says Onew, taken aback.
“You have this sappy look lately,” translates Minho. Taemin and Jonghyun laugh, and Onew flushes.
“I’m just,” he says. He looks around at them, then grins, feeling sheepish and silly and- “happy,” he finishes. “I’m just happy.”
“What a sap,” says Key, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling too, and so is Minho, and Jonghyun, and Taemin, Onew sees as he looks from one to the other.
Onew catches Taemin’s eye, and Taemin’s smile gets sweeter; there’s something private in it, something meant only for the two of them, and Onew likes it.
------
Onew cries when Jonghyun hurts his ankle. Not right away, not right there in front of everyone, but later, when they get back to Korea, when Jonghyun’s in the hospital and the rest of them are all sitting in the living room waiting anxiously for news, Onew feels tears start to well up in his eyes and has to leave the room.
He walks to his room and shuts the door, then sits down on his bed. He pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his face in his hands.
It’s not that he’s sad; Jonghyun’s alive and not going to die and he’s probably going to be fine, given some time to recover, so it’s not like Onew’s grieving for him or anything. But he’s angry-angry at himself for not being able to protect Jonghyun; for not being able to do his job, again; for being a failure as an angel.
The door opens, and Onew knows it’s Taemin, so he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask him to leave him alone like he might if it were Minho or Key. He stays where he is, letting the tears continue to slide down his face until they grow heavy enough to drip down onto the fabric of his pants. He hears Taemin shut the door quietly, then pad his way over to the bed. The mattress dips down as he sits down next to Onew, and Onew leans wordlessly into Taemin’s side, still without uncurling himself or looking up.
Taemin wraps his arm around Onew’s shoulder, and they sit like that: Taemin holding Onew, Onew crying angrily even though he knows Taemin can feel him shaking with each sob.
After a while, Onew’s crying dies down to a slight sniffle. Taemin strokes his hair gently, running his fingers through the soft strands that splay out over the curve where his Onew’s neck starts to become shoulder.
Onew leans against Taemin’s side, sighing a little. After a minute, he says, his voice flat and distant, “I’m a failure, Taemin.”
Taemin’s hand doesn’t stop it’s motion for even a second as he replies calmly, “No, you’re not, hyung.”
“I am,” Onew insists. “What use is it being an angel if I can’t ever protect anyone? I’ve failed so many times when SHINee’s needed me.”
Taemin shushes him softly. “Shh, hyung, you’re not a failure,” he says. “You’re always there for us when we need you.”
Onew gives a derisive snort and sits up a little. Taemin’s hand stills, falls to rest on his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m always there when SHINee needs comic relief. I always trip and fall over when SHINee needs me to, or say stupid things when SHINee needs me to.” He can feel his the corners of his mouth pulling down, can feel his facial expression turning nasty, but he keeps going, petulantly. “What about being there for SHINee for real? What about protecting you guys, and keeping the members from getting hurt? That’s my real assignment, and I haven’t been able to do anything about it at all yet. That makes me a failure, doesn’t it?”
Taemin’s quiet for a moment, and Onew thinks, you see, you know I’m right after all.
Then Taemin says, “Maybe you’ve got it wrong; maybe your assignment isn’t to protect SHINee.”
Onew looks at Taemin, dumbfounded. “What else would it be?” he asks.
Taemin doesn’t answer. He gives Onew a long, searching look, and then turns his head away. He pulls his hand away from its place on Onew’s shoulder and into his own lap. They sit in silence for a few more minutes, and then Taemin stands with a sigh and leaves the room, closing the door again behind him.
Onew stays there, wondering what Taemin might have meant. In the end, he can’t come up with anything, and decides that Taemin must have just said the first thing that he could think of to make his hyung feel better, even though they both knew Onew was right.
------
Things are awkward between them after that, and Onew isn’t sure why. Some days, Taemin will smile at him, but there’s something sad behind his eyes, and he looks away right after, instead of staring adoringly for as long as he thinks he can before people start to notice. Other days, he doesn’t look at Onew at all, just gives one-word answers when Onew tries to talk to him and pretends he’s too busy with whatever he’s doing to look up. Sometimes he finds an excuse to leave the room when he sees Onew coming towards him; Onew thinks his heart is breaking.
It’s a few weeks before Taemin next catches Onew’s eye, gives him that meaningful look that makes warmth pool low in his stomach as he follows Taemin into the next room. Onew’s a little surprised; Taemin’s still not talking to him as much as before, still looks uncomfortable or maybe a little sad whenever they spend time together. Still, he glances around to see if the others are paying attention, and they’re not, so he gets to his feet and goes after Taemin.
They kiss tentatively, like it’s the first time, only the first time didn’t feel like this. Their first time had felt natural, like something that had always been meant to happen; this feels unsure and slightly awkward, like they’re testing something out, seeing if it’s okay.
It’s almost chaste at first, just gentle touches of their lips, Taemin settled in Onew’s lap. Onew holds him lightly in place at his waist; Taemin’s gotten skinnier, he thinks. Taemin’s always been thin, of course, but he seems to have lost weight in the time that’s passed since the last time they did this. He’s like a bird, Onew thinks. He tightens his grip on Taemin, as if trying to ground him, to keep him from flying away.
Taemin seems to notice. He deepens the kiss suddenly, presses closer. His fingers curl into the fabric of Onew’s shirt where they had been just resting lightly before.
It’s been too long, Onew thinks when they go further, when they strip off each other’s clothing and Onew presses Taemin into the sheets. He watches Taemin’s eyelashes flutter, watches Taemin’s fingers clench and unclench anxiously, like he’s waiting for something he can’t quite get.
When Taemin comes, Onew thinks wildly that Taemin is the one who looks like an angel, with his blonde hair splayed out over white sheets and his full, pink lips, parted around a moan, and miles of bare, soft skin, perfect and unmarred. And then Onew is coming too, his wings unfurling behind him, and it’s like they’re both flying away from the world, from whatever’s been plaguing them these past few weeks.
But they come back again, and so does whatever it is, that uncomfortable something that’s been between them.
There’s a moment, as they’re lying there, looking at each other, when it almost goes away: Taemin stares at Onew as if he’s searching for something, and Onew gives him a slight smile, and suddenly the veil in Taemin’s eyes is lifting, and his expression is open like it hasn’t been for weeks.
But then Taemin seems to decide he can’t find whatever he was looking for after all, and his face closes off again. He rolls away from Onew and gets to his feet. Onew sits up. He watches as Taemin pulls his clothes on in silence and then leaves the room again.
Taemin pauses at the door and looks back at Onew. He must see the worry written over Onew’s face, because he considers for a moment, then gives a smile that’s meant to be reassuring. It doesn’t quite reach the level where it’s completely believable, but it’s more than he’s offered in a long time, so Onew figures that if Taemin’s trying to make him feel better, they must be on the way to being okay.
He smiles back.
------
Taemin’s trying his best. He no longer runs from the room when Onew enters, or avoids his gaze or pretends not to notice when Onew talks to him. They’ve returned to their normally-scheduled routine of illicit activities behind closed doors.
It’s still not the same; Onew used to feel so close to Taemin, and now he feels far away, as if Taemin’s built up a wall to keep him out.
It’s not like things are very awkward between them. They laugh and talk, and if Onew weren’t specifically looking for it, he might not know that anything was off.
It’s just subtle things: how Taemin’s eyes don’t sparkle quite as brightly as they used to, or how he sometimes cuts off suddenly when they’re talking and seems to get lost in thought. It’s only because they were so close, before, that Onew feels the difference.
He doesn’t really understand what’s upsetting Taemin. He asks once-Taemin puts on a plastic-looking smile and tells him that nothing was wrong, that he shouldn’t worry. Whatever it is, Taemin won’t tell him, and Onew doesn’t know if this is one those things he should know, that Taemin wants him to know without having to be told, or if Taemin just wants to deal with it by himself. Either way, the fact remains that Onew still doesn’t know why Taemin’s been distant, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.
Nothing feels right, so in the end, he does nothing.
Anyway, Onew figures that, now that Taemin is at least trying to act normal with him again, the problem will just go away eventually. Eventually, things between them will be perfect and comfortable again.
------
It starts out like a normal day. They’re on Music Bank, and everything goes smoothly, just another routine performance.
It’s not until after the performance that things fall suddenly away from routine.
After the music stops, they all freeze in their final poses for a minute, and then the lights change and they straighten up again, relax their stances and start walking offstage. They file off, Jonghyun and Key in the front, brushing shoulders and already talking and laughing quietly to each other, then Minho, who smiles patiently and laying a guiding arm behind Key’s back, a silent reminder to walk a little faster.
Onew passes by Taemin as he heads in the same direction. Taemin is still standing there, breathing hard. Onew claps him on the shoulder, making him look up in surprise. Onew gives him a smile and a slight nod: you okay? Taemin nods back, so Onew leaves him and walks on ahead.
Suddenly there’s a loud cracking sound from behind him, and Onew looks over his shoulder to see Taemin, still standing, alone, in the middle of the stage, and above him, the metal towers holding up the backdrop of the set waver. The motion is imperceptible to the human eye, but Onew isn’t human; he catches it. And suddenly, the world goes into slow motion as he realizes what’s going to happen.
It takes less than ten seconds for the following to happen:
The lights go out.
There are screams from the crowd, panicked cries all around, confusion at the sudden darkness.
At the same time, the set tips and starts to fall, a thousand pounds of steel and glass and lights careening towards the stage floor, the sounds of cords snapping echoing through the building.
Taemin stands, frozen in the darkness, directly underneath the collapsing structure.
Onew is already running, spreading his wings and diving with superhuman speed at the spot where Taemin is standing.
He grabs Taemin around the waist and scoops him into his arms before giving a powerful flap of his wings, propelling themselves sideways, just clear of where only Onew can see the falling beams are going to land.
The lights come back on, just as everything comes crashing down, hitting the stage floor with a deafening clatter of metal and shattering glass.
When everything stops moving, Onew is crouched on the floor just a few feet away from the fallen pieces of the set, holding Taemin huddled in his arms. His wings are spread around them, shielding them both from the tiny glass shards and sparks that are still falling.
Taemin looks up at him, eyes wide. There’s a deafening roar going up all around them, the panicked yells and shouts of everyone who’s just realized what has happened, of the staff and security who are running frantically, trying to restore order, making sure no one’s hurt. Still, Onew hears Taemin’s voice as if it’s the only sound in the room.
“Hyung,” Taemin is saying, “your wings. You have to hide your wings. Everyone can see them.”
Onew shakes his head. He can’t explain why, but suddenly everything has become clear.
“No,” he says, his voice firm and sure. “No one can see them, Taemin. No one can see them but you.”
He knows now, everything-why Taemin has always almost been able to see his wings, to feel their presence; why he wasn’t able to save Minho or Jonghyun from their injuries; why he never felt like he was doing anything for SHINee, at least not in the sense of being their angel, of protecting them.
Taemin looks around. Everyone looks startled and stunned, but only iin the way where a massive tower of steel and lights has just toppled to the ground, crashing through the stage floor, and not in a way which suggests that they’ve noticed at all the white feathered limbs growing from Onew’s back. Onew follows Taemin’s gaze to the other side of the stage, where Minho and Jonghyun and Key are standing, gaping.
They were never his assignment, he realizes. It’s Taemin; it’s always been Taemin.
He says this to Taemin, leans in close and speaks quietly into his ear. For a moment nothing happens; then Taemin’s arms tighten around Onew’s back, squeezing him in a close embrace. Onew pulls back just enough to see Taemin’s face-he’s grinning. Taemin’s grinning, beaming, a huge smile that shows his perfect teeth, that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
His eyes are sparkling with the old adoration that Onew’s missed so much.
Members of the staff and security are reaching them now. Onew grasps the offered arm of one of the security guards and pulls himself and Taemin to their feet, his other arm still firmly wrapped around Taemin’s waist. Everyone is talking over each other, asking if they’re hurt, calling for medical help; there’s so much going on all around them, but Onew feels calm. There’s no need to worry; he finally knows why he’s here, what he’s meant to do.
He can’t stop looking at Taemin. He wants to lean in and kiss him, but strong hands are pulling them apart. Someone is leaning in, checking him for injuries, and a couple of feet away, someone else doing the same for Taemin. Onew lets them. He still wants to kiss Taemin, but it can wait; they have time.
Onew’s going to be there for Taemin for a long time.
ontae // pg-13 // 5,922 words
a/n: I didn't find this until after I wrote this fic, but: ontae color palette! It's even titled properly. ;)
Onew gets his first assignment when he’s seventeen years old. He’s excited-as all angels are when they get their assignments. After all, it’s what he’s been preparing and training for since the day he was born.
Getting the assignment is somewhat different than what he’d expected. He’s not sure exactly how he thought it would go, but he’d imagined a piece of paper with instructions on it, a name perhaps, or a photograph of someone he hasn’t yet met.
Instead, when he gets called into the big white room where assignments are handed out, he just stands there at the center of the round chamber, blinking against the brightness of the glossy white surfaces surrounding him, and looks for the source of the voice that tells him where to go.
“What will happen after I go there?” Onew asks. “What do I do after that?”
“You will do what you feel is right.” The deep, imperious voice reverberates all around the room. “You will understand your task when the time comes for you to do it.”
And that’s awfully vague, and Onew desperately wants to ask for more information, for some hint that will help him figure out what his assignment actually is, but then he’s being dismissed and the door he came through is opening again, so he just bows obediently and turns to leave instead.
------
He does his best to do what they told him, to do what he feels is right, and that leads him somewhere he would never have imagined he’d go.
Things happen in quick succession: he’s singing in some sort of talent scouting audition, and then he’s being recruited as a trainee for an entertainment company, and then he’s being chosen to debut as the leader of a boyband.
At first he wonders if somehow he messed things up somewhere, because this is just too bizarre, because singing and dancing on stage in front of hysterically screaming fangirls just cannot be his assignment.
But he thinks about it for a while, and he meets the other boys he’s debuting with-carefree and outgoing Jonghyun, who has a mischievous nature but knows how to use his big eyes and pouty lips to get what he wants; Key who comes equipped with more attitude and eyerolls than Onew had realized could exist in one person; athletic Minho who just seems quietly charismatic at first but laughs louder and longer than all of them; and Taemin, sweet maknae Taemin, whom everyone sees as being the innocent baby, but Onew knows right away is so much more than that.
Onew gets to know these boys, and it’s remarkably easy to learn to laugh and joke around with them, to feel like friends, or family, and he thinks, “I guess this is it, then; this is them-my assignment.”
He still doesn’t know exactly how he’s supposed to be protecting them though. From what he can tell, they don’t really need protecting; they seem to do just fine on their own. But Onew remembers the day he got his orders, the voice that had told him that when the time came, he’d know, so he tells himself not to worry about it too much.
Instead, he lets himself fall into the routine of singing and dancing and learning new songs and new choreography, of filmings and photoshoots and being paid to act silly or to look pretty. He fits himself into this life he’s entered into-and it feels right to him, so he figures he must be on the right track. Do what feels right to you, they’d always said. Living with these boys, making them laugh with his offbeat comments and impressions, looking out for each other, going onstage to perform with them-that’s what feels right to Onew right now, so he just keeps going, and figures that if there’s something else he should be doing-well, he’ll figure out what that is eventually.
------
One day, when they have a moment alone, Taemin says quietly to Onew, “Hyung, you’re not like us, are you?”
It could mean a hundred different things. It could mean, “You’re clumsier than us, aren’t you?” or “You’re more talented than us, aren’t you?” or “You’re more mature than us, aren’t you?” It could mean a hundred different things, but somehow, Onew knows right away that Taemin’s referring to that.
He glances around to make sure no one’s listening before asking, “How did you figure it out?”
Taemin shrugs. His lips are curved into a slight smile, and he looks proud to have been right. Onew asks again-”No, really, how did you know?” -but it doesn’t seem like Taemin is going to answer, so finally he just sighs and makes Taemin swear not to tell anyone.
“The thing is,” he says, “people aren’t really supposed to know. I think I could get in trouble if people find out about me.”
Taemin nods emphatically. “Of course,” he says. “I won’t tell anyone.” He looks seriously at Onew for a minute, then adds, “I don’t want to tell anyone.”
Like, it’s special that only I know. Like, I want to be the only one who knows about Onew hyung.
Onew can’t help the pleased flutter in his chest when he realizes that’s what Taemin is really saying.
------
Taemin has lots of questions. Whenever they have a minute to spare where no one else is in the room, or at least no one is close enough to hear, Taemin wants to know more about it. About Onew being an angel.
“What’s it like?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” says Onew. “What’s being human like?”
“It’s normal,” says Taemin, laughing.
“Well, being an angel is normal to me,” says Onew. “I don’t know what it’s like to be anything else.”
Taemin considers this, and seems to decide he’s satisfied with Onew’s answer. From across the room, a stylist noona is calling him, and he heads toward her, a bounce in his step.
The next day, when they’re in the car, Taemin asks, “Do you have special powers?”
Onew claps a hand over Taemin’s mouth, then looks around carefully to make sure none of the others heard, but they all seem to be asleep, and the music playing over the radio is loud enough that Taemin probably couldn’t be heard from the front seat anyway. Onew glances around once more and then pokes the back of Jonghyun’s head to make sure he’s really asleep; he just snuffles softly and slouches further down the seat. Satsified, Onew answers Taemin’s question, keeping his voice low.
“I have wings, and good eyesight, and good hearing,” he says. “Other than that-it’s not a power, exactly, or anyway not something I can control, but supposedly if there’s something I need to do, whatever needs to happen in order for me to be able to do it will happen.”
“That’s kind of vague,” says Taemin. “What does that even mean?”
Onew makes a face. “I don’t know either. They just tell us these things, but never in enough detail for us to actually understand it. Hopefully it will work if I ever need it, but-I mean, I can’t give you an example or anything.”
“Weird,” says Taemin. Onew looks at him. Taemin grins. “You’re weird,” he says.
Onew smiles sheepishly. “Probably,” he agrees.
------
“I want to see them,” Taemin says one day. Onew doesn’t have to ask what exactly it is Taemin wants to see; he’s been expecting Taemin to ask ever since the day Taemin’d revealed that he knew.
They’ve just finished a photoshoot and are changing back into their own clothes. “Later,” Onew promises.
Later, when the others are bickering over the television in the living room, Onew gets up and walks into the bedroom. Taemin follows him a moment later. The others are too preoccupied to notice.
Onew waits for Taemin to lock the door. Then Taemin’s leaning against the door, expectant. Onew feels hugely self-conscious suddenly, but he turns his back to Taemin and pulls his shirt off over his head- he doesn’t need to, really, but it’s more comfortable this way, without the awkward restricting feeling that comes with forcing his wings to manifest themselves through a layer of fabric. He takes a deep breath, and then when he lets it out, he shakes himself loose mentally, lets himself relax the part of his mind that is always focused on keeping his wings hidden.
He doesn’t feel anything change-the wings are always there; it’s just a matter of whether he allows people to see them-but he hears Taemin’s soft breath behind him, and he knows he can see them.
Onew doesn’t hear Taemin step forward; it’s a shock when he suddenly feels fingertips grazing against the crest of his wings. He jumps a little, and the fingers are gone again.
“I’m sorry,” says Taemin, quickly.
“It’s fine,” says Onew. “I mean, it’s fine, you can touch them-I was just-surprised.”
“Oh,” says Taemin, sounding pleased and relieved. He touches Onew’s wings again, lightly at first, then stroking a little more surely, letting his fingertips sink just the slightest bit into the soft white feathers. Onew has to suppress a shiver.
The thing is, no one’s really touched his wings before. A couple of times, on accident, he’s brushed them against people, but no one’s ever purposely touched them. It’s new, and it feels good, and Onew finds himself biting his lip as Taemin’s fingers grow surer, stroke down over more of his wing, press deeper into the feathers.
And then, as Taemin moves closer and keeps petting, keeps touching his wings, his hands stroking continuously and his body heat so close behind the bare skin of Onew’s back, and Onew realizes it feels good in a different way too, in a way that maybe it shouldn’t. He shifts uncomfortably; he thinks he should tell Taemin to stop, but he doesn’t, because he doesn’t want Taemin to ask why, and because he doesn’t want Taemin to think it’s his fault. And because, if Onew’s being honest with himself, it feels really good.
A little moan escapes his lips before he can stop it. Taemin stops, though his fingers are still resting lightly on Onew’s wing, just barely touching the feathers about halfway down. Onew steps away quickly. He wants to hide his face in his hands.
Taemin steps forward too, cautiously. “Hyung, are you-” He takes hold of Onew’s shoulder, his fingers warm and smooth on Onew’s bare skin. Onew’s wondering whether he should pull away, but before he can make the decision, Taemin’s come closer to him, sliding his hand down Onew’s shoulder, down his arm, falling into a loose grasp just above his elbow. He pulls, and Onew half turns. He opens his mouth to say something-to apologize, or to ask Taemin to leave-he’s not quite sure which. But Taemin cuts him off with a press of his mouth to Onew’s parted lips.
“Oh,” breathes Onew when they pull apart. He turns the rest of the way, and Taemin’s standing right there, and Onew’s supposed to be the older and more experienced one, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He slips tentative hands under the hem of Taemin’s shirt, thumbs stroking the soft skin over his hipbones, and that seems to be okay, because Taemin leans in to kiss him again.
Things rapidly escalate from there: they’re kissing, and then Taemin’s shirt is off, and then Taemin’s lithe fingers are unbuttoning Onew’s pants, and then Onew’s pushing him backwards until Taemin’s knees hit the bed and they both land heavily on the mattress. Onew has a split second to think how maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, that maybe this falls into the realm of the things he’s supposed to be protecting Taemin from rather than the things he’s supposed to be doing to protect Taemin; but then Taemin’s sliding a slender hand into Onew’s pants, and whatever thoughts Onew might have been having quickly dissipate.
------
He does think about it afterwards.
This is what he thinks: logically, rationally, it’s probably wrong; but before he came here, he was always told that as an angel, the right thing to do is always what feels right, what his instinct tells him to do, and the thing is, sleeping with Taemin, touching him-it doesn’t feel wrong.
So Onew figures it’s probably okay, and when Taemin catches his eye and nods toward the bedroom the next day, a meaningful glint in his eye, Onew grins and follows him without a second thought.
------
Taemin asks him one day where his wings go when they disappear.
They’re lying in bed, murmuring quietly. Onew’s propped himself up on an elbow, and Taemin is lying on his side next to him, fingers trailing absently through the white feathers that cascade down Onew’s back.
“They’re still there,” says Onew. “They’re always there, but if I concentrate in just the right way, I can make it so that no one can see them. And then if I concentrate just a little bit more, I can make it so it’s like they’re not there, so that they don’t stick out or bump into things, and people can’t feel them even if they touch them. It’s like they’re not there, but they really are.”
Taemin makes a musing humming noise and continues petting Onew’s wings softly. After a minute or two, he clears his throat.
“Hyung,” he says in pleasant tones, “there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Hmm? And what’s that?” Onew’s eyes have drifted closed, and everything is just comfortable, and he wants to stay here forever.
“The thing is,” Taemin is saying beside him. “The thing is, you don’t hide your wings as well as you think you do.”
Onew’s eyes snap open again. He looks at Taemin, who’s smiling up at him, long eyelashes fluttering as he blinks, looking exactly like a cat who’s particularly pleased with the discovery it’s made.
“What do you mean?” asks Onew, suddenly wary. Taemin’s smile widens, even as he bites his lip to try to hide it.
“Maybe you lose your concentration sometimes without realizing it,” says Taemin, “because I’m pretty sure I’ve felt feathers before.”
Onew falls into a stunned silence, and Taemin continues happily, “Like I”ll just be walking, and then suddenly I think I can feel feathers brushing against my arm, only when I look up, there’s just you.” He thinks for a moment, then adds, less surely, “And then sometimes when you’re standing in the light, and I look at you-I’m not sure, but-for a moment I think I can see a faint outline, just a trace, or a shadow of-something-of your wings, spread out behind you.”
Onew doesn’t know what to think. If what Taemin is saying is true-and it must be-does that mean other people know about him too?
His fears must show on his face, because Taemin hurriedly rubs his arm reassuringly and says, “Don’t worry-no one else has noticed.” He frowns a little. “Actually, I don’t know if they can see it. I remember a long time ago, one time, when I thought it looked like you had wings, I asked Key if he noticed anything strange about you, but he said-he gave me a weird look and said I needed to get more sleep.”
Onew relaxes. That’s right. They shouldn’t be able to see or touch his wings. He’s fairly certain that things like what Taemin’s saying-slips of his concentration, wing-shaped shadows in the sunlight-can’t happen, or are extremely unlikely to. Just like he wouldn’t accidentally forget to put clothes on and wander outside naked-he would notice if he was walking around with his wings out for the world to see.
Which brings up another concern-why can Taemin see his wings, why can he feel it when Onew brings his wings up to cover him protectively sometimes as they walk through unfamilar places, or when overexcited fans come just a little too close to them?
He should figure this out; it seems important, this exception to the rule. But then Taemin’s pushing at his shoulder, and Onew recognizes the look on his face by now, so he lets Taemin roll him onto his back and climb over to straddle his hips. And then when Taemin leans down to press his lips against Onew’s skin, Onew decides that whatever it is, whatever the reason for Taemin’s being able to see right through the facade he puts up-it’s not so important that it can’t wait.
------
They’re all upset when Minho hurts his leg, but Onew takes it the hardest. He’s speechless when he hears the news, and can’t do anything but sit down heavily on the floor. Taemin looks over at the space beside him where his hyung was a moment ago, and then down at where Onew’s sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, breathing rapidly with his hands clasped over his nose and mouth. He kneels down and rubs Onew’s back in small, soothing circles, even though, when Onew glances over at him, his own face looks drawn and pale too.
Taemin doesn’t say anything, not with Jonghyun and Key standing there too, but later, after night falls and they’re laying in bed, he says, “Are you worried because of the angel thing? Because of your assignment?”
Onew lies in his own bed, staring up through the darkness at the ceiling. After a moment, he speaks: “I should have been there. I should have stopped it from happening.”
“I don’t think it’s your fault, hyung,” Taemin says. “I don’t think they can blame you for something like that. You had no way of knowing it was going to happen. You weren’t even anywhere near him when it happened; there was no way they would have expected you to stop it.”
“How do you know that, Taeminnie?” Onew sighs; the dejected puff of air sounds too loud in the silent room. “How can you know what they expect from me when you’ve never even met them?”
“I just know,” Taemin says simply. Onew sighs again, and Taemin adds, “I know that if they’re really so all-knowing and just, they’ll know you couldn’t be there to stop Minho from getting hurt. They’ll know you’re doing your best, and they’ll be proud of you for it.” He hesitates, then says, very quietly, “I’m proud of you, hyung.”
Somehow, that makes Onew feel better. He doesn’t know if the rest of what Taemin said is true, if it’s really okay that he wasn’t there for Minho, but. Taemin’s proud of him, he said, and that makes Onew feel better.
------
Things go on as usual. Minho gets better after a few weeks. Even though Taemin keeps reassuring him that it wasn’t his fault, Onew is glad anyway-both because Minho’s his friend and he cares about him, and because, despite Taemin’s words, he still can’t stop the occasional worry that creeps into his mind about whether he’s really fulfilling his duty.
They’re busy, performing on some show or another almost every day, and doing interviews and photoshoots on the days in between. Still, Onew’s happy. He and Taemin sneak kisses whenever they have a spare moment-to say hi, I see you, or as a promise for what will come later, or just for the sake of kissing. Even when they’re all bone-tired, no strength left by the time they return home to do anything but sleep, all it takes is one drowsy smile from Taemin to him feel peaceful and warm.
They’re all happy, Onew thinks. He sees Jonghyun and Key teasing a beaming Taemin for being so excited that he gets to sing more now, while Minho watches and laughs along, and he thinks, things are good.
“Hyung, what’s wrong with your face?” says Key.
“What?” says Onew, taken aback.
“You have this sappy look lately,” translates Minho. Taemin and Jonghyun laugh, and Onew flushes.
“I’m just,” he says. He looks around at them, then grins, feeling sheepish and silly and- “happy,” he finishes. “I’m just happy.”
“What a sap,” says Key, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling too, and so is Minho, and Jonghyun, and Taemin, Onew sees as he looks from one to the other.
Onew catches Taemin’s eye, and Taemin’s smile gets sweeter; there’s something private in it, something meant only for the two of them, and Onew likes it.
------
Onew cries when Jonghyun hurts his ankle. Not right away, not right there in front of everyone, but later, when they get back to Korea, when Jonghyun’s in the hospital and the rest of them are all sitting in the living room waiting anxiously for news, Onew feels tears start to well up in his eyes and has to leave the room.
He walks to his room and shuts the door, then sits down on his bed. He pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his face in his hands.
It’s not that he’s sad; Jonghyun’s alive and not going to die and he’s probably going to be fine, given some time to recover, so it’s not like Onew’s grieving for him or anything. But he’s angry-angry at himself for not being able to protect Jonghyun; for not being able to do his job, again; for being a failure as an angel.
The door opens, and Onew knows it’s Taemin, so he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask him to leave him alone like he might if it were Minho or Key. He stays where he is, letting the tears continue to slide down his face until they grow heavy enough to drip down onto the fabric of his pants. He hears Taemin shut the door quietly, then pad his way over to the bed. The mattress dips down as he sits down next to Onew, and Onew leans wordlessly into Taemin’s side, still without uncurling himself or looking up.
Taemin wraps his arm around Onew’s shoulder, and they sit like that: Taemin holding Onew, Onew crying angrily even though he knows Taemin can feel him shaking with each sob.
After a while, Onew’s crying dies down to a slight sniffle. Taemin strokes his hair gently, running his fingers through the soft strands that splay out over the curve where his Onew’s neck starts to become shoulder.
Onew leans against Taemin’s side, sighing a little. After a minute, he says, his voice flat and distant, “I’m a failure, Taemin.”
Taemin’s hand doesn’t stop it’s motion for even a second as he replies calmly, “No, you’re not, hyung.”
“I am,” Onew insists. “What use is it being an angel if I can’t ever protect anyone? I’ve failed so many times when SHINee’s needed me.”
Taemin shushes him softly. “Shh, hyung, you’re not a failure,” he says. “You’re always there for us when we need you.”
Onew gives a derisive snort and sits up a little. Taemin’s hand stills, falls to rest on his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m always there when SHINee needs comic relief. I always trip and fall over when SHINee needs me to, or say stupid things when SHINee needs me to.” He can feel his the corners of his mouth pulling down, can feel his facial expression turning nasty, but he keeps going, petulantly. “What about being there for SHINee for real? What about protecting you guys, and keeping the members from getting hurt? That’s my real assignment, and I haven’t been able to do anything about it at all yet. That makes me a failure, doesn’t it?”
Taemin’s quiet for a moment, and Onew thinks, you see, you know I’m right after all.
Then Taemin says, “Maybe you’ve got it wrong; maybe your assignment isn’t to protect SHINee.”
Onew looks at Taemin, dumbfounded. “What else would it be?” he asks.
Taemin doesn’t answer. He gives Onew a long, searching look, and then turns his head away. He pulls his hand away from its place on Onew’s shoulder and into his own lap. They sit in silence for a few more minutes, and then Taemin stands with a sigh and leaves the room, closing the door again behind him.
Onew stays there, wondering what Taemin might have meant. In the end, he can’t come up with anything, and decides that Taemin must have just said the first thing that he could think of to make his hyung feel better, even though they both knew Onew was right.
------
Things are awkward between them after that, and Onew isn’t sure why. Some days, Taemin will smile at him, but there’s something sad behind his eyes, and he looks away right after, instead of staring adoringly for as long as he thinks he can before people start to notice. Other days, he doesn’t look at Onew at all, just gives one-word answers when Onew tries to talk to him and pretends he’s too busy with whatever he’s doing to look up. Sometimes he finds an excuse to leave the room when he sees Onew coming towards him; Onew thinks his heart is breaking.
It’s a few weeks before Taemin next catches Onew’s eye, gives him that meaningful look that makes warmth pool low in his stomach as he follows Taemin into the next room. Onew’s a little surprised; Taemin’s still not talking to him as much as before, still looks uncomfortable or maybe a little sad whenever they spend time together. Still, he glances around to see if the others are paying attention, and they’re not, so he gets to his feet and goes after Taemin.
They kiss tentatively, like it’s the first time, only the first time didn’t feel like this. Their first time had felt natural, like something that had always been meant to happen; this feels unsure and slightly awkward, like they’re testing something out, seeing if it’s okay.
It’s almost chaste at first, just gentle touches of their lips, Taemin settled in Onew’s lap. Onew holds him lightly in place at his waist; Taemin’s gotten skinnier, he thinks. Taemin’s always been thin, of course, but he seems to have lost weight in the time that’s passed since the last time they did this. He’s like a bird, Onew thinks. He tightens his grip on Taemin, as if trying to ground him, to keep him from flying away.
Taemin seems to notice. He deepens the kiss suddenly, presses closer. His fingers curl into the fabric of Onew’s shirt where they had been just resting lightly before.
It’s been too long, Onew thinks when they go further, when they strip off each other’s clothing and Onew presses Taemin into the sheets. He watches Taemin’s eyelashes flutter, watches Taemin’s fingers clench and unclench anxiously, like he’s waiting for something he can’t quite get.
When Taemin comes, Onew thinks wildly that Taemin is the one who looks like an angel, with his blonde hair splayed out over white sheets and his full, pink lips, parted around a moan, and miles of bare, soft skin, perfect and unmarred. And then Onew is coming too, his wings unfurling behind him, and it’s like they’re both flying away from the world, from whatever’s been plaguing them these past few weeks.
But they come back again, and so does whatever it is, that uncomfortable something that’s been between them.
There’s a moment, as they’re lying there, looking at each other, when it almost goes away: Taemin stares at Onew as if he’s searching for something, and Onew gives him a slight smile, and suddenly the veil in Taemin’s eyes is lifting, and his expression is open like it hasn’t been for weeks.
But then Taemin seems to decide he can’t find whatever he was looking for after all, and his face closes off again. He rolls away from Onew and gets to his feet. Onew sits up. He watches as Taemin pulls his clothes on in silence and then leaves the room again.
Taemin pauses at the door and looks back at Onew. He must see the worry written over Onew’s face, because he considers for a moment, then gives a smile that’s meant to be reassuring. It doesn’t quite reach the level where it’s completely believable, but it’s more than he’s offered in a long time, so Onew figures that if Taemin’s trying to make him feel better, they must be on the way to being okay.
He smiles back.
------
Taemin’s trying his best. He no longer runs from the room when Onew enters, or avoids his gaze or pretends not to notice when Onew talks to him. They’ve returned to their normally-scheduled routine of illicit activities behind closed doors.
It’s still not the same; Onew used to feel so close to Taemin, and now he feels far away, as if Taemin’s built up a wall to keep him out.
It’s not like things are very awkward between them. They laugh and talk, and if Onew weren’t specifically looking for it, he might not know that anything was off.
It’s just subtle things: how Taemin’s eyes don’t sparkle quite as brightly as they used to, or how he sometimes cuts off suddenly when they’re talking and seems to get lost in thought. It’s only because they were so close, before, that Onew feels the difference.
He doesn’t really understand what’s upsetting Taemin. He asks once-Taemin puts on a plastic-looking smile and tells him that nothing was wrong, that he shouldn’t worry. Whatever it is, Taemin won’t tell him, and Onew doesn’t know if this is one those things he should know, that Taemin wants him to know without having to be told, or if Taemin just wants to deal with it by himself. Either way, the fact remains that Onew still doesn’t know why Taemin’s been distant, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.
Nothing feels right, so in the end, he does nothing.
Anyway, Onew figures that, now that Taemin is at least trying to act normal with him again, the problem will just go away eventually. Eventually, things between them will be perfect and comfortable again.
------
It starts out like a normal day. They’re on Music Bank, and everything goes smoothly, just another routine performance.
It’s not until after the performance that things fall suddenly away from routine.
After the music stops, they all freeze in their final poses for a minute, and then the lights change and they straighten up again, relax their stances and start walking offstage. They file off, Jonghyun and Key in the front, brushing shoulders and already talking and laughing quietly to each other, then Minho, who smiles patiently and laying a guiding arm behind Key’s back, a silent reminder to walk a little faster.
Onew passes by Taemin as he heads in the same direction. Taemin is still standing there, breathing hard. Onew claps him on the shoulder, making him look up in surprise. Onew gives him a smile and a slight nod: you okay? Taemin nods back, so Onew leaves him and walks on ahead.
Suddenly there’s a loud cracking sound from behind him, and Onew looks over his shoulder to see Taemin, still standing, alone, in the middle of the stage, and above him, the metal towers holding up the backdrop of the set waver. The motion is imperceptible to the human eye, but Onew isn’t human; he catches it. And suddenly, the world goes into slow motion as he realizes what’s going to happen.
It takes less than ten seconds for the following to happen:
The lights go out.
There are screams from the crowd, panicked cries all around, confusion at the sudden darkness.
At the same time, the set tips and starts to fall, a thousand pounds of steel and glass and lights careening towards the stage floor, the sounds of cords snapping echoing through the building.
Taemin stands, frozen in the darkness, directly underneath the collapsing structure.
Onew is already running, spreading his wings and diving with superhuman speed at the spot where Taemin is standing.
He grabs Taemin around the waist and scoops him into his arms before giving a powerful flap of his wings, propelling themselves sideways, just clear of where only Onew can see the falling beams are going to land.
The lights come back on, just as everything comes crashing down, hitting the stage floor with a deafening clatter of metal and shattering glass.
When everything stops moving, Onew is crouched on the floor just a few feet away from the fallen pieces of the set, holding Taemin huddled in his arms. His wings are spread around them, shielding them both from the tiny glass shards and sparks that are still falling.
Taemin looks up at him, eyes wide. There’s a deafening roar going up all around them, the panicked yells and shouts of everyone who’s just realized what has happened, of the staff and security who are running frantically, trying to restore order, making sure no one’s hurt. Still, Onew hears Taemin’s voice as if it’s the only sound in the room.
“Hyung,” Taemin is saying, “your wings. You have to hide your wings. Everyone can see them.”
Onew shakes his head. He can’t explain why, but suddenly everything has become clear.
“No,” he says, his voice firm and sure. “No one can see them, Taemin. No one can see them but you.”
He knows now, everything-why Taemin has always almost been able to see his wings, to feel their presence; why he wasn’t able to save Minho or Jonghyun from their injuries; why he never felt like he was doing anything for SHINee, at least not in the sense of being their angel, of protecting them.
Taemin looks around. Everyone looks startled and stunned, but only iin the way where a massive tower of steel and lights has just toppled to the ground, crashing through the stage floor, and not in a way which suggests that they’ve noticed at all the white feathered limbs growing from Onew’s back. Onew follows Taemin’s gaze to the other side of the stage, where Minho and Jonghyun and Key are standing, gaping.
They were never his assignment, he realizes. It’s Taemin; it’s always been Taemin.
He says this to Taemin, leans in close and speaks quietly into his ear. For a moment nothing happens; then Taemin’s arms tighten around Onew’s back, squeezing him in a close embrace. Onew pulls back just enough to see Taemin’s face-he’s grinning. Taemin’s grinning, beaming, a huge smile that shows his perfect teeth, that crinkles the corners of his eyes.
His eyes are sparkling with the old adoration that Onew’s missed so much.
Members of the staff and security are reaching them now. Onew grasps the offered arm of one of the security guards and pulls himself and Taemin to their feet, his other arm still firmly wrapped around Taemin’s waist. Everyone is talking over each other, asking if they’re hurt, calling for medical help; there’s so much going on all around them, but Onew feels calm. There’s no need to worry; he finally knows why he’s here, what he’s meant to do.
He can’t stop looking at Taemin. He wants to lean in and kiss him, but strong hands are pulling them apart. Someone is leaning in, checking him for injuries, and a couple of feet away, someone else doing the same for Taemin. Onew lets them. He still wants to kiss Taemin, but it can wait; they have time.
Onew’s going to be there for Taemin for a long time.