Round Five: On the Way
Title: On the Way
Team: Canon
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Summary: The story of their relationship throughout their career.
Prompt Used: Jang Geun Seuk - My Bus
There was a flock of sparrows in my stomach, clawing at the lining and shredding flesh into thin strips. Every frantic beat of my heart sent them flying and with every breath, I had to swallow hard to keep the bile from spilling out. The taste of it stuck to my tongue like glue, sticky and acid no matter how much water I drank, no matter how much gum I chewed to try to get rid of it.
"Take it easy." Minho caught my hand as I reached for my bottle. His hand was warm and dry, not clammy and cold like mine. I envied him. "You don't want to pee yourself on stage."
The thought made hysterical laughter want to climb up my throat, but I swallowed it with the next reflux of bile. I rubbed at my chest, trying to sooth the burning, itchy sensation. I felt like I had already been dancing for hours, as if I'd climbed into the van after a practice session without having a shower or a rest. A little less than three hours until I would be standing at the Music Bank stage, cameras swooping in on me and I felt as if a day at the hospital with an IV attached to my arm couldn't get my knees to stop shaking.
"Breathe."
Air exploded out of my lungs as Minho squeezed my arm hard. I glared wordlessly at him, my chest heaving and trying to make sense of this breathing thing that I had apparently forgotten to do. Minho's hand migrated to the back of my neck, a warm distraction that made every single hair at the back of my neck rise and my skin tingle. I tried to focus on that -- better that than on the way the birds in my stomach took flight again -- and followed Minho's calm, exaggerated breathing, eyes locked with his. It figured that he was behaving like a Zen master.
"Thanks, hyung," I finally said as my limbs started to grow heavy in relaxation. I let my head flop down on his shoulder -- I knew Minho didn't mind and I'd always found him calming. "I don't get how you can be so calm."
Kibum giggled in the backseat -- no, that was Key now, I needed to remember that -- but I couldn't really find the energy to turn and glare. I'd seen the white-knuckled octopus grip he had on Jonghyun. We were all nervous.
Minho took my hand and wove our fingers together. I squeezed his hand. He squeezed back. "I've been competing all my life. I guess I'm used to it."
"I don't think I'll ever be," I admitted and closed my eyes. I knew that I would fall asleep that way, but anything was better than worrying myself to distraction. Besides, Minho was warm and comfortable. It would be a pity not to take advantage. "I don't think I'll ever get used to being on stage."
"You will. Everyone does eventually." It sounded weird when Minho said it and I opened my eyes to peer up at him. He was looking at me, something soft in his eyes. When our eyes met, he smiled. I smiled back, something warm pooling in my stomach that was as different from sparrows as it could be. "Go to sleep."
I closed my eyes again, twisting until I rested more comfortably against him. Minho's thumb skated over the back of my hand and I concentrated on that slight movement while Minho exchanged words with manager-hyung, asking when we were due to arrive.
I never heard the answer. By then, I was already asleep.
***
The battery indicator on my cell blinked, then the screen flickered and died. I stared blankly at it, fingers still poised to type the message. "My cellphone died," I told the car in general, not expecting an answer as the only other person in the car was manager-hyung and he was driving.
"I told you to charge it when we left at four if you wanted it for the evening," manager-hyung said in that tone of voice that said he had told me, several times at that. "You didn't charge it last night either."
I stared at him, then looked out the window. It was dark outside. Oh.
"You'll just have to ask Minho to borrow his if you need something," manager-hyung continued. "We should pick him up in a couple of minutes."
Which meant that it was well into the evening and that I really should be running through the script for tonight. I blinked. I must've lost several hours somewhere -- last I checked it'd been... Well, it'd been the recording that was scheduled for late afternoon, but it didn't feel like late afternoon. If they were picking up Minho, we had a performance in only an hour.
I hastily tucked my cellphone away as we turned off the main street, pulling up by a backdoor. Another manager shooed Minho across the short distance between door and car, shutting the car door firmly as soon as Minho jumped inside. I scooted out of the way and eyed Minho out of the corner of my eye as he scrambled into his favored seat in the car. He didn't seem to notice me -- just as he didn't notice the way he got louder and louder until he actually yelled at Onew this morning. Manager-hyung kept saying it was just stress, but it didn't look that way to me.
I actually saw the moment he noticed me. He froze in the middle of squeezing between the seats -- just a split second, but it was enough. "They picked you up first? I didn't think we were that late."
I shrugged, still not looking at him. "Sorry, I didn't even know it was this time a day yet. If you knew that you were late, you knew more than I did five minutes ago."
"It's been a long day." Minho wriggled in his seat, looking as if he was trying to find a good position. Then he looked at me thoughtfully.
"What?" I said, finally looking at him fully.
He didn't say anything, just flopped down and put his head on my thigh, the weight familiar even though it'd been forever since he'd done it last. My hands veered towards his hair without waiting for input from my head, tangling into the thick locks. I felt Minho start under my fingers, but he just said, "I'm taking a nap."
It didn't take long until his breath evened out, slowing until it was hard to see his chest moving. With his eyes closed, his head resting on my thigh, I was hard pressed to remember that Minho had been distant with me for so many weeks. Hesitantly, I freed one hand and hovered it above Minho's cheek. Then I gave in.
He was warm. His skin was unpleasant at the touch from all the makeup. It felt like touching my own skin and yet not; this was Minho's face under my fingertips, Minho's skin, Minho. I skated my fingertips along his jaw, hesitated, then darted to his lips.
"Taemin."
I froze, my heart stuck in my throat. There was a tiny puff of air against my fingers and I ripped my hand away, slamming it into the seat hard enough it hurt. Minho looked up at me, eyes huge and pupils blown. I swallowed hard, my heart loud in my ears, my cheeks burning painfully.
"I..." I began, but I couldn't find the words to say anything. Not when Minho looked at me like that, as if he wasn't sure whether it was a dream or a nightmare or just plain crazy reality.
The car stopped. Manager-hyung began to turn around in the driver's seat. I flung myself sideways, away from Minho. Minho sat up slowly, eyes still locked with mine. "Taemin," he said again while manager-hyung walked around the car so he could tug his lazy charges out of the backseat, "you--"
The door opened before he had the chance to finish what he was about to say. By the time manager-hyung stuck his head inside the car, we were on separate sides and grabbing our stuff. My cheeks still prickled unpleasantly and as I got out, manager-hyung eyed me worriedly. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked and touched his hand to my sweaty forehead. "Should we bring you along to the hospital when we take Onew? I don't like that flush of yours."
I tried to shift away without looking too guilty. "I'm fine."
Manager-hyung frowned but luckily, he didn't persist. I scrambled after Minho, heart thudding hard and knowing I couldn't ask anything, couldn't figure out what we had almost done. There just wasn't any time -- preparations, rehearsing, recording. It all had to be done and any emotional issues had to take a backseat. It didn't mean that I could rip my eyes away from Minho's straight back as he walked through the corridors to our changing room or stop the way my hands shook as I pushed the door open.
Something had started to happen. I just wished I knew what it was.
***
I knew the moment Minho entered the room that he'd come to annoy me with his cautionary tales again. My hackles rose without him even saying anything and I knew from the sharp look Minho gave me that it was quite visible.
"Taemin," he began, but I interrupted him in a way that would've gotten me snapped at if it hadn't been Minho.
"Don't, hyung. You're just being stupid."
Minho gave me a flat look. "It's not stupid to tell you to be careful. You know that not all--"
"It's Changmin-hyung. Last time I looked, he was your friend."
"That doesn't mean you should be--"
"You said no!"
I snapped my mouth shut. Minho and I stared at each other -- I think we might've been equally startled by the yell. I never yelled, but here I was, the shout still ringing in the silent room and a nauseating feeling in my throat as my heart beat loudly in my ears. Eventually I continued, but in a quieter voice: "You said no, hyung. So you don't really have the right to tell me what to do."
That time, nearly a year ago, hovered like a specter between us. I could see the memory in Minho's eyes, just as it was trying to make me forget all about my hurt and just ask again. To ask Minho to act on that closeness we'd built again. But I wouldn't, because everything about Minho's hunched shoulders, the pinched look on his face, said that the answer would be the same.
"I can't worry?" Minho quietly said.
I looked away. "We should go. Manager-hyung will be here any minute."
Minho made a frustrated sound deep in his throat but stalked off anyway. I tried not to feel guilty. I wasn't the one that fled when I practically threw myself at him. I wasn't the one that pretended I didn't reciprocate after months of what could only be called flirting. With a scowl, I grabbed my bag and followed.
Key met us by the exit and he just needed one look to know to slide in at my side and slip an arm around my shoulders. "You fought again then. What was it this time?"
"Nothing. Minho's just being stupid."
"Uh-huh." Key flicked a strand of hair from my face like one of those monkeys that groom each other. "The 'I'm all grown up and why can't you see it' thing again. He only wants you to be careful, you know. Not everyone's going to be OK with your liking guys, even with our hyungs."
I winced. I knew that, just as I knew that Minho only meant well. "It's OK that he's worried. It's just that..." But I couldn't get it out, couldn't speak about it, not even with Key.
Key sighed and pushed me over to the van and inside. "You two are going to drive me insane," he muttered, then planted a hand square in the middle of my back and shoved towards Minho. Minho yelped and gave Key a flat look, but he caught me anyway, hands secure around me as I flailed for a hold. I pushed myself upright, but Key had already taken the last free seat in the back. Which left me with the spot next to Minho.
"Best seat in the house," he said with a smug look on his face.
I shot him a look but sat down, heart thumping. Minho edged away, but there was no way to avoid that we were squished together, that I could feel every breath Minho took, that he could feel every movement I made. It'd be a long ride, that was for sure.
***
There was a flash over my shoulder. I turned around, then sighed and pushed the unopened bottle away.
"Eh, Taemin! No one would care if you drank a little!"
I shrugged the arm that appeared around my shoulders off. "The fans found us, hyung."
Minho squinted. "Really?" The fans on the other side of the fenced-off area giggled. "Oh, there they are!"
Minho really got silly when he was drunk. I grabbed his arm with a roll of my eyes and did a half turn, trying to find the others. They'd been swallowed by the crowd at some point and I hadn't thought I needed to stay with them. "Come on, hyung," I said and tugged Minho along in the other direction from the fans. He stumbled a little, then waved to the fans behind us as we started to put some distance between them and us. I only hoped the videos wouldn't appear on Korean sites anytime soon.
I spotted manager-hyung's head above the fans and steered that way, dodging a pillar on the way. Minho walked straight into it, looking so stunned that I had to cover a laugh as I got us as near the van as I could.
"There you are." Manager-hyung appeared out of the crowd and gave Minho a close look. He winced. "Go to the car," he told me under his breath. "I'll get the others."
"Where are we going?" Minho asked as I started towing Minho again.
"Car. You're tipsy, hyung."
"We won! We should all be tipsy!"
"I'm still underage, hyung," I said between my teeth and shoved Minho into the car after opening the door. "No, the back," I added as he tried to take the seat he landed on. "And don't puke."
Minho looked offended. "I don't puke."
I took the seat next to him. "I hope so." I turned my head to look at Minho, who was squinting at something I couldn't see. "I wonder where the fans came from." We hadn't publicized our presence after all and we weren't at home. We didn't even speak the language of this place, which was part of why manager-hyung let us out to celebrate at all. At this rate, SHINee's wild antics when out of the country would--
Minho dropped into my lap.
"Hey!" I frowned down at him and poked him in the cheek. "Hey. Minho." No movement at all. "You've got to be kidding me."
Our temporary co-manager stuck his head into the car just as I contemplated just rolling him onto the floor. "Oh, good, you're both here. Stay put, all right? The others got stuck in the crowd."
I nodded, one hand clapped over Minho's mouth to ward off the smell. "I'm throwing him out if he pukes though." Manager-hyung just gave me a knowing look and closed the door. I sighed. Yeah, as if I'd ever do that. "You're lucky I like you," I told Minho's slack face. "Even after you went all noble idiot on me."
"Not an idiot." I nearly jumped out of my skin when Minho's eyes fluttered. "Just careful. So--" The last of the sentence was muttered into my stomach as Minho turned on his side.
I stared at the mess of hair in my lap, fingers itching to weave through the thick locks. "I wish you didn't do this to me, hyung," I told Minho's unhearing ears. "It's not nice to depend on people you've rejected."
I didn't get an answer, but I didn't expect one. I closed my eyes and let myself give in and tangle my fingers in Minho's hair as I used to back when we were still friends with no awkward confrontations of being more between us. Minho wiggled closer, one hand tangling in my t-shirt before he went still again.
"Figures you hold on in your sleep." I brushed a tangle off his cheek so I could see his face, his warm puffs of breath making my shirt moist against my skin. I'd let him be, just for a little while. I can give myself that. Just a little while.
***
I wished I could've said that I was surprised when Minho stepped into the room with a peculiar look on his face five seconds after I closed it behind me. Truth to be told, I had expected someone. Minho hadn't been my first choice, but he wasn't my last one either.
"At least you can't blame it on me," Minho said as the door snicketed closed behind him. I dropped my head into the cradle of my arms on the desk. I didn't really want to look at him, not now. "I told you. Several times."
"You're still the one that said no." I almost hoped Minho didn't hear it, but when his hands landed on my shoulders, warm and steady, I knew he had. I had pointed out to him more times than I'd care to count that it wasn't very nice of him to keep doing stuff like that to the person he rejected, but Minho always ignored it.
"Because I didn't want this to happen." Minho leaned against me, just a tiny bit, and it was hard not to sit up and make his grip slide into a hug. "What did they say?"
"They didn't see." I had heard them before it happened and we had had the time to slide apart and clean up. It had still been close -- far too close. Far too risky. "We got away. It's still the end."
"Hey, Taemin," he'd said. "I can't do this. I really like you but... I want to be, I--"
I had told him that I understood and I did. I wouldn't risk it either -- not with him. Not with anyone except-- But he kept rejecting me while holding me close. Push and pull at its finest.
Minho muttered something I couldn't hear, then said, louder: "Maybe it's for the best."
"I think you can safely take out the 'maybe'." I didn't comment on the way his words couldn't really be taken as anything but jealousy with the way things had been going between us. I could afford to be that nice, especially as Minho's thumb started to caress the knob between my shoulders. "I shouldn't have started it to begin with. I just wanted to--" Get away from you. Not have to look at you and know that we could've had something if you didn't push me away as steadily as you pulled me in.
Minho's thumb stilled and I immediately missed its soothing presence. "I know," he said quietly. "I know, so don't say it."
The smile I put on my face as I turned around took more effort than I would've liked. "I won't." I got to my feet and Minho's hands dropped uselessly at his sides. "Do you think I have the time for a nap before we're off to KBS? I'm feeling tired all of the sudden."
The sudden impish smile on Minho's face made me blink. "Sorry. I actually locked manager-hyung out of the dorm when I came in. I think he's calling a locksmith."
I couldn't help the snort that slipped out. "Pod person." I grabbed his hand, suddenly feeling much better, and weaved our fingers together. "I told hyung that we weren't going to turn more of his hair grey just yesterday, you know. You're making a liar out of me."
"You're already a liar," Minho said dryly and tugged me closer, changing handholding to an arm around my shoulders. "We all know."
"Meanie." I knocked my hip into his playfully.
Minho's grin, bright as the sun and just as potentially painful, beamed down on me. "Right back at you."
***
Sometimes I really wished that Minho wasn’t so prone to taking off his shirt when the cameras weren’t around. He looked good of course (too good in fact) but there was something distracting about having someone that made your heart relocate to your throat dance around half-naked in front of you. Even if you’ve decided not to pursue someone of the same sex again anytime soon.
“Try not to lose your chin when you drop it.”
It was Key of course. I flushed hard and averted my eyes, turning my attention back to choreographer-noona again. I managed to concentrate for another minute, then Minho executed a hip roll and my eyes went straight back to him.
Something slammed. I jumped, eyes flying to the front of the room.
“Taemin,” noona said with exasperation, hand still resting on the mirrors. “If you’re not going to be here in mind, it doesn’t matter if you’re here in body.”
“It’s not his fault,” Key snarked under his breath where only I could hear him. “Minho’s abs gave me permission to take a leave of absence.”
Noona seemed to think that my deep scarlet face was proof of my remorse, because she picked up her instructions again. This time I kept my attention where it was supposed to be, silently cursing myself.
“Your vow of celibacy is going really well,” Key said admiringly as we did the usual negotiations around the shower back at the dorm. Less than two hours and we were supposed to be off for a performance - it was going to get really stressful really soon.
“Shut up, hyung,” I said, feeling crappy enough as it was.
Key patted my shoulder and somehow stole my place in line. “I’m sure Minho was very impressed.”
I’d rather hoped he hadn’t noticed. Maybe Key was joking.
Key’s little maneuver had me being the last one finished, which also put me in the last spot in the van. Which of course, Key being Key, meant the spot next to Minho.
“We’re doing this again?” I asked the air as I climbed into place.
There was a pointed silence. I sighed and flopped into my seat just as pointedly, not hesitating to lean against Minho. We were just friends. We had a year of practice of being just friends. Friends could admire each other, right?
Minho bent to get his mouth close to my ear. “Is Key teasing you again?”
I twisted my mouth and was saved from answering when Minho’s phone went off. Good for me - the moment had left me rather tongue-tied.
The call kept him busy for the rest of the drive and I relished in being able to just sit there and pretend I couldn’t feel Minho being warm and comfortable next to me. Like I had the rest of the year - because really, whom was I kidding? I could forget on the stage, on shows, when working, but in the quiet moments in-between, it was impossible. Minho had been there for far too long.
The show passed in the adrenaline burn it usually did and as we gathered on the stage for the announcement of the trophy we wouldn’t win, all sweaty but prettied up as well as our coordis could manage, I found Minho by my side again. I looked up at him, surprised. “Why aren’t you with Changmin-hyung?” I hissed out of the corner of my mouth.
Minho reached out and grabbed my hand in the safety of the huddle of idols around us. “Don’t want to.”
I wiggled my fingers - I was heating up from the simple feel of it, the strength, the warmth, the familiarity - but Minho held tight, squeezing my hand gently. “Hyung?” I asked.
“Shh,” Minho said in reply as the cameras swept close.
I put a smile on my face automatically but I wasn’t really paying attention to the show. Why was Minho being like this now? He hadn’t been like this since…
My brain slowed down, then froze. He hadn’t been like this since that first year when all of this started. I ripped my hand away, heart beating furiously. I wasn’t going to do this again, I wasn’t. Minho tried to grab my hand again, but I backed away. The camera swung my way and I ducked into the huddle around the winners. Minho tried to follow, but got stuck at the tail of a girl group I didn’t even know the name of. I grabbed Key’s arm, finding him in front of me.
“Did you know about this?” I demanded.
Key took a moment too long to put on his innocent face. “Knew what?”
He had known, I realized. And if Key knew, they all knew. Did that mean that Minho was serious this time? But they’d all known last time as well.
Key seemed to realize that they’d been caught, because he grabbed my arm before he was swept away. “Give him a chance,” he urged, then we were all shuffled off the stage as the winning song began to play. We got separated - Key disappeared into a girl group huddle as a rookie group cut between him and me. Then someone grabbed my arm. I looked back. Minho.
“Taemin,” he said, then looked around. This wasn’t the place to do anything. He tugged at my arm insistently, pulling me out of the mass of people. The others would cover for us, I knew, and this was probably the only time you could get lost at one of these shows, when we all came down from the stage at once in a huge mass. Two steps to the side and you would be somewhere you weren’t supposed to be without a single stage monitor to take notice.
Minho found us a corridor with fake doors, pulling us through one of them that lead into another corridor with a bathroom at the end that could be locked. Not the ideal location, but I didn’t stop him when he pulled me inside.
“Taemin,” he began and I just knew he was going to hold an earnest speech about it all.
“Do you mean it this time?” I interrupted, not up to listening. I couldn’t quite bring myself to cross my arms or glare at him or any of the things that were screaming to be done. The demand for the truth was still there in my voice though, clear as day. “Are you going to chicken out again?”
It wasn’t fair of course - how could it be when I had been so young back then, without the experience of the past two years? But the heart isn’t fair - not mine anyway.
Minho caught on fast. To his credit, he didn’t argue - didn’t try to settle it with words. I don’t think I would’ve believed him anyway. At this stage, I couldn’t believe him with anything less than what he gave me.
He kissed me. Leaned forward, grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise and kissed me. He was good at it too - by the end of it, my head was spinning and I desperately wanted more, enough that I clung to his stage shirt even though I knew the hell he’d get for ruining it. I’m sure, the kiss said - every nip, every slide of lips. I’m very, very sure.
I couldn’t do anything but believe it.
***
“Oh God, get a room.”
Minho broke our kiss, looking over my shoulder as the door opened. We shouldn’t have been doing it - we were going in less than five minutes, but we’d been alone and, well. We are little more than teenagers. “Five seconds,” he told Key.
“More like five milliseconds,” Key retorted and I knew he’d raised an eyebrow even though I was somewhat busy mouthing at Minho’s neck. “Manager-hyung is coming this way.”
And if that wasn’t a cold shower, then I don’t know what is. We jumped apart and when manager-hyung stuck his head through the door, we were on different sides of the room and doing something else. “Come on,” he said. “No dawdling.”
We came like meek ducklings, letting him herd us to the car. The others gave us knowing looks, letting us take the seats at the far back. Minho’s hand found mine as the car started and I laced our fingers together. It’d started like this, it’d ended like this and then it’d began anew in the same way. It was only fit that it continued like this as well. I let my head fall onto Minho’s shoulder. It’d been a long way to come where we’d ended up, but I thought it’d been worth it.
Well, mostly in any case.
Poll On the Way
Team: Canon
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Minho/Taemin
Summary: The story of their relationship throughout their career.
Prompt Used: Jang Geun Seuk - My Bus
There was a flock of sparrows in my stomach, clawing at the lining and shredding flesh into thin strips. Every frantic beat of my heart sent them flying and with every breath, I had to swallow hard to keep the bile from spilling out. The taste of it stuck to my tongue like glue, sticky and acid no matter how much water I drank, no matter how much gum I chewed to try to get rid of it.
"Take it easy." Minho caught my hand as I reached for my bottle. His hand was warm and dry, not clammy and cold like mine. I envied him. "You don't want to pee yourself on stage."
The thought made hysterical laughter want to climb up my throat, but I swallowed it with the next reflux of bile. I rubbed at my chest, trying to sooth the burning, itchy sensation. I felt like I had already been dancing for hours, as if I'd climbed into the van after a practice session without having a shower or a rest. A little less than three hours until I would be standing at the Music Bank stage, cameras swooping in on me and I felt as if a day at the hospital with an IV attached to my arm couldn't get my knees to stop shaking.
"Breathe."
Air exploded out of my lungs as Minho squeezed my arm hard. I glared wordlessly at him, my chest heaving and trying to make sense of this breathing thing that I had apparently forgotten to do. Minho's hand migrated to the back of my neck, a warm distraction that made every single hair at the back of my neck rise and my skin tingle. I tried to focus on that -- better that than on the way the birds in my stomach took flight again -- and followed Minho's calm, exaggerated breathing, eyes locked with his. It figured that he was behaving like a Zen master.
"Thanks, hyung," I finally said as my limbs started to grow heavy in relaxation. I let my head flop down on his shoulder -- I knew Minho didn't mind and I'd always found him calming. "I don't get how you can be so calm."
Kibum giggled in the backseat -- no, that was Key now, I needed to remember that -- but I couldn't really find the energy to turn and glare. I'd seen the white-knuckled octopus grip he had on Jonghyun. We were all nervous.
Minho took my hand and wove our fingers together. I squeezed his hand. He squeezed back. "I've been competing all my life. I guess I'm used to it."
"I don't think I'll ever be," I admitted and closed my eyes. I knew that I would fall asleep that way, but anything was better than worrying myself to distraction. Besides, Minho was warm and comfortable. It would be a pity not to take advantage. "I don't think I'll ever get used to being on stage."
"You will. Everyone does eventually." It sounded weird when Minho said it and I opened my eyes to peer up at him. He was looking at me, something soft in his eyes. When our eyes met, he smiled. I smiled back, something warm pooling in my stomach that was as different from sparrows as it could be. "Go to sleep."
I closed my eyes again, twisting until I rested more comfortably against him. Minho's thumb skated over the back of my hand and I concentrated on that slight movement while Minho exchanged words with manager-hyung, asking when we were due to arrive.
I never heard the answer. By then, I was already asleep.
***
The battery indicator on my cell blinked, then the screen flickered and died. I stared blankly at it, fingers still poised to type the message. "My cellphone died," I told the car in general, not expecting an answer as the only other person in the car was manager-hyung and he was driving.
"I told you to charge it when we left at four if you wanted it for the evening," manager-hyung said in that tone of voice that said he had told me, several times at that. "You didn't charge it last night either."
I stared at him, then looked out the window. It was dark outside. Oh.
"You'll just have to ask Minho to borrow his if you need something," manager-hyung continued. "We should pick him up in a couple of minutes."
Which meant that it was well into the evening and that I really should be running through the script for tonight. I blinked. I must've lost several hours somewhere -- last I checked it'd been... Well, it'd been the recording that was scheduled for late afternoon, but it didn't feel like late afternoon. If they were picking up Minho, we had a performance in only an hour.
I hastily tucked my cellphone away as we turned off the main street, pulling up by a backdoor. Another manager shooed Minho across the short distance between door and car, shutting the car door firmly as soon as Minho jumped inside. I scooted out of the way and eyed Minho out of the corner of my eye as he scrambled into his favored seat in the car. He didn't seem to notice me -- just as he didn't notice the way he got louder and louder until he actually yelled at Onew this morning. Manager-hyung kept saying it was just stress, but it didn't look that way to me.
I actually saw the moment he noticed me. He froze in the middle of squeezing between the seats -- just a split second, but it was enough. "They picked you up first? I didn't think we were that late."
I shrugged, still not looking at him. "Sorry, I didn't even know it was this time a day yet. If you knew that you were late, you knew more than I did five minutes ago."
"It's been a long day." Minho wriggled in his seat, looking as if he was trying to find a good position. Then he looked at me thoughtfully.
"What?" I said, finally looking at him fully.
He didn't say anything, just flopped down and put his head on my thigh, the weight familiar even though it'd been forever since he'd done it last. My hands veered towards his hair without waiting for input from my head, tangling into the thick locks. I felt Minho start under my fingers, but he just said, "I'm taking a nap."
It didn't take long until his breath evened out, slowing until it was hard to see his chest moving. With his eyes closed, his head resting on my thigh, I was hard pressed to remember that Minho had been distant with me for so many weeks. Hesitantly, I freed one hand and hovered it above Minho's cheek. Then I gave in.
He was warm. His skin was unpleasant at the touch from all the makeup. It felt like touching my own skin and yet not; this was Minho's face under my fingertips, Minho's skin, Minho. I skated my fingertips along his jaw, hesitated, then darted to his lips.
"Taemin."
I froze, my heart stuck in my throat. There was a tiny puff of air against my fingers and I ripped my hand away, slamming it into the seat hard enough it hurt. Minho looked up at me, eyes huge and pupils blown. I swallowed hard, my heart loud in my ears, my cheeks burning painfully.
"I..." I began, but I couldn't find the words to say anything. Not when Minho looked at me like that, as if he wasn't sure whether it was a dream or a nightmare or just plain crazy reality.
The car stopped. Manager-hyung began to turn around in the driver's seat. I flung myself sideways, away from Minho. Minho sat up slowly, eyes still locked with mine. "Taemin," he said again while manager-hyung walked around the car so he could tug his lazy charges out of the backseat, "you--"
The door opened before he had the chance to finish what he was about to say. By the time manager-hyung stuck his head inside the car, we were on separate sides and grabbing our stuff. My cheeks still prickled unpleasantly and as I got out, manager-hyung eyed me worriedly. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked and touched his hand to my sweaty forehead. "Should we bring you along to the hospital when we take Onew? I don't like that flush of yours."
I tried to shift away without looking too guilty. "I'm fine."
Manager-hyung frowned but luckily, he didn't persist. I scrambled after Minho, heart thudding hard and knowing I couldn't ask anything, couldn't figure out what we had almost done. There just wasn't any time -- preparations, rehearsing, recording. It all had to be done and any emotional issues had to take a backseat. It didn't mean that I could rip my eyes away from Minho's straight back as he walked through the corridors to our changing room or stop the way my hands shook as I pushed the door open.
Something had started to happen. I just wished I knew what it was.
***
I knew the moment Minho entered the room that he'd come to annoy me with his cautionary tales again. My hackles rose without him even saying anything and I knew from the sharp look Minho gave me that it was quite visible.
"Taemin," he began, but I interrupted him in a way that would've gotten me snapped at if it hadn't been Minho.
"Don't, hyung. You're just being stupid."
Minho gave me a flat look. "It's not stupid to tell you to be careful. You know that not all--"
"It's Changmin-hyung. Last time I looked, he was your friend."
"That doesn't mean you should be--"
"You said no!"
I snapped my mouth shut. Minho and I stared at each other -- I think we might've been equally startled by the yell. I never yelled, but here I was, the shout still ringing in the silent room and a nauseating feeling in my throat as my heart beat loudly in my ears. Eventually I continued, but in a quieter voice: "You said no, hyung. So you don't really have the right to tell me what to do."
That time, nearly a year ago, hovered like a specter between us. I could see the memory in Minho's eyes, just as it was trying to make me forget all about my hurt and just ask again. To ask Minho to act on that closeness we'd built again. But I wouldn't, because everything about Minho's hunched shoulders, the pinched look on his face, said that the answer would be the same.
"I can't worry?" Minho quietly said.
I looked away. "We should go. Manager-hyung will be here any minute."
Minho made a frustrated sound deep in his throat but stalked off anyway. I tried not to feel guilty. I wasn't the one that fled when I practically threw myself at him. I wasn't the one that pretended I didn't reciprocate after months of what could only be called flirting. With a scowl, I grabbed my bag and followed.
Key met us by the exit and he just needed one look to know to slide in at my side and slip an arm around my shoulders. "You fought again then. What was it this time?"
"Nothing. Minho's just being stupid."
"Uh-huh." Key flicked a strand of hair from my face like one of those monkeys that groom each other. "The 'I'm all grown up and why can't you see it' thing again. He only wants you to be careful, you know. Not everyone's going to be OK with your liking guys, even with our hyungs."
I winced. I knew that, just as I knew that Minho only meant well. "It's OK that he's worried. It's just that..." But I couldn't get it out, couldn't speak about it, not even with Key.
Key sighed and pushed me over to the van and inside. "You two are going to drive me insane," he muttered, then planted a hand square in the middle of my back and shoved towards Minho. Minho yelped and gave Key a flat look, but he caught me anyway, hands secure around me as I flailed for a hold. I pushed myself upright, but Key had already taken the last free seat in the back. Which left me with the spot next to Minho.
"Best seat in the house," he said with a smug look on his face.
I shot him a look but sat down, heart thumping. Minho edged away, but there was no way to avoid that we were squished together, that I could feel every breath Minho took, that he could feel every movement I made. It'd be a long ride, that was for sure.
***
There was a flash over my shoulder. I turned around, then sighed and pushed the unopened bottle away.
"Eh, Taemin! No one would care if you drank a little!"
I shrugged the arm that appeared around my shoulders off. "The fans found us, hyung."
Minho squinted. "Really?" The fans on the other side of the fenced-off area giggled. "Oh, there they are!"
Minho really got silly when he was drunk. I grabbed his arm with a roll of my eyes and did a half turn, trying to find the others. They'd been swallowed by the crowd at some point and I hadn't thought I needed to stay with them. "Come on, hyung," I said and tugged Minho along in the other direction from the fans. He stumbled a little, then waved to the fans behind us as we started to put some distance between them and us. I only hoped the videos wouldn't appear on Korean sites anytime soon.
I spotted manager-hyung's head above the fans and steered that way, dodging a pillar on the way. Minho walked straight into it, looking so stunned that I had to cover a laugh as I got us as near the van as I could.
"There you are." Manager-hyung appeared out of the crowd and gave Minho a close look. He winced. "Go to the car," he told me under his breath. "I'll get the others."
"Where are we going?" Minho asked as I started towing Minho again.
"Car. You're tipsy, hyung."
"We won! We should all be tipsy!"
"I'm still underage, hyung," I said between my teeth and shoved Minho into the car after opening the door. "No, the back," I added as he tried to take the seat he landed on. "And don't puke."
Minho looked offended. "I don't puke."
I took the seat next to him. "I hope so." I turned my head to look at Minho, who was squinting at something I couldn't see. "I wonder where the fans came from." We hadn't publicized our presence after all and we weren't at home. We didn't even speak the language of this place, which was part of why manager-hyung let us out to celebrate at all. At this rate, SHINee's wild antics when out of the country would--
Minho dropped into my lap.
"Hey!" I frowned down at him and poked him in the cheek. "Hey. Minho." No movement at all. "You've got to be kidding me."
Our temporary co-manager stuck his head into the car just as I contemplated just rolling him onto the floor. "Oh, good, you're both here. Stay put, all right? The others got stuck in the crowd."
I nodded, one hand clapped over Minho's mouth to ward off the smell. "I'm throwing him out if he pukes though." Manager-hyung just gave me a knowing look and closed the door. I sighed. Yeah, as if I'd ever do that. "You're lucky I like you," I told Minho's slack face. "Even after you went all noble idiot on me."
"Not an idiot." I nearly jumped out of my skin when Minho's eyes fluttered. "Just careful. So--" The last of the sentence was muttered into my stomach as Minho turned on his side.
I stared at the mess of hair in my lap, fingers itching to weave through the thick locks. "I wish you didn't do this to me, hyung," I told Minho's unhearing ears. "It's not nice to depend on people you've rejected."
I didn't get an answer, but I didn't expect one. I closed my eyes and let myself give in and tangle my fingers in Minho's hair as I used to back when we were still friends with no awkward confrontations of being more between us. Minho wiggled closer, one hand tangling in my t-shirt before he went still again.
"Figures you hold on in your sleep." I brushed a tangle off his cheek so I could see his face, his warm puffs of breath making my shirt moist against my skin. I'd let him be, just for a little while. I can give myself that. Just a little while.
***
I wished I could've said that I was surprised when Minho stepped into the room with a peculiar look on his face five seconds after I closed it behind me. Truth to be told, I had expected someone. Minho hadn't been my first choice, but he wasn't my last one either.
"At least you can't blame it on me," Minho said as the door snicketed closed behind him. I dropped my head into the cradle of my arms on the desk. I didn't really want to look at him, not now. "I told you. Several times."
"You're still the one that said no." I almost hoped Minho didn't hear it, but when his hands landed on my shoulders, warm and steady, I knew he had. I had pointed out to him more times than I'd care to count that it wasn't very nice of him to keep doing stuff like that to the person he rejected, but Minho always ignored it.
"Because I didn't want this to happen." Minho leaned against me, just a tiny bit, and it was hard not to sit up and make his grip slide into a hug. "What did they say?"
"They didn't see." I had heard them before it happened and we had had the time to slide apart and clean up. It had still been close -- far too close. Far too risky. "We got away. It's still the end."
"Hey, Taemin," he'd said. "I can't do this. I really like you but... I want to be, I--"
I had told him that I understood and I did. I wouldn't risk it either -- not with him. Not with anyone except-- But he kept rejecting me while holding me close. Push and pull at its finest.
Minho muttered something I couldn't hear, then said, louder: "Maybe it's for the best."
"I think you can safely take out the 'maybe'." I didn't comment on the way his words couldn't really be taken as anything but jealousy with the way things had been going between us. I could afford to be that nice, especially as Minho's thumb started to caress the knob between my shoulders. "I shouldn't have started it to begin with. I just wanted to--" Get away from you. Not have to look at you and know that we could've had something if you didn't push me away as steadily as you pulled me in.
Minho's thumb stilled and I immediately missed its soothing presence. "I know," he said quietly. "I know, so don't say it."
The smile I put on my face as I turned around took more effort than I would've liked. "I won't." I got to my feet and Minho's hands dropped uselessly at his sides. "Do you think I have the time for a nap before we're off to KBS? I'm feeling tired all of the sudden."
The sudden impish smile on Minho's face made me blink. "Sorry. I actually locked manager-hyung out of the dorm when I came in. I think he's calling a locksmith."
I couldn't help the snort that slipped out. "Pod person." I grabbed his hand, suddenly feeling much better, and weaved our fingers together. "I told hyung that we weren't going to turn more of his hair grey just yesterday, you know. You're making a liar out of me."
"You're already a liar," Minho said dryly and tugged me closer, changing handholding to an arm around my shoulders. "We all know."
"Meanie." I knocked my hip into his playfully.
Minho's grin, bright as the sun and just as potentially painful, beamed down on me. "Right back at you."
***
Sometimes I really wished that Minho wasn’t so prone to taking off his shirt when the cameras weren’t around. He looked good of course (too good in fact) but there was something distracting about having someone that made your heart relocate to your throat dance around half-naked in front of you. Even if you’ve decided not to pursue someone of the same sex again anytime soon.
“Try not to lose your chin when you drop it.”
It was Key of course. I flushed hard and averted my eyes, turning my attention back to choreographer-noona again. I managed to concentrate for another minute, then Minho executed a hip roll and my eyes went straight back to him.
Something slammed. I jumped, eyes flying to the front of the room.
“Taemin,” noona said with exasperation, hand still resting on the mirrors. “If you’re not going to be here in mind, it doesn’t matter if you’re here in body.”
“It’s not his fault,” Key snarked under his breath where only I could hear him. “Minho’s abs gave me permission to take a leave of absence.”
Noona seemed to think that my deep scarlet face was proof of my remorse, because she picked up her instructions again. This time I kept my attention where it was supposed to be, silently cursing myself.
“Your vow of celibacy is going really well,” Key said admiringly as we did the usual negotiations around the shower back at the dorm. Less than two hours and we were supposed to be off for a performance - it was going to get really stressful really soon.
“Shut up, hyung,” I said, feeling crappy enough as it was.
Key patted my shoulder and somehow stole my place in line. “I’m sure Minho was very impressed.”
I’d rather hoped he hadn’t noticed. Maybe Key was joking.
Key’s little maneuver had me being the last one finished, which also put me in the last spot in the van. Which of course, Key being Key, meant the spot next to Minho.
“We’re doing this again?” I asked the air as I climbed into place.
There was a pointed silence. I sighed and flopped into my seat just as pointedly, not hesitating to lean against Minho. We were just friends. We had a year of practice of being just friends. Friends could admire each other, right?
Minho bent to get his mouth close to my ear. “Is Key teasing you again?”
I twisted my mouth and was saved from answering when Minho’s phone went off. Good for me - the moment had left me rather tongue-tied.
The call kept him busy for the rest of the drive and I relished in being able to just sit there and pretend I couldn’t feel Minho being warm and comfortable next to me. Like I had the rest of the year - because really, whom was I kidding? I could forget on the stage, on shows, when working, but in the quiet moments in-between, it was impossible. Minho had been there for far too long.
The show passed in the adrenaline burn it usually did and as we gathered on the stage for the announcement of the trophy we wouldn’t win, all sweaty but prettied up as well as our coordis could manage, I found Minho by my side again. I looked up at him, surprised. “Why aren’t you with Changmin-hyung?” I hissed out of the corner of my mouth.
Minho reached out and grabbed my hand in the safety of the huddle of idols around us. “Don’t want to.”
I wiggled my fingers - I was heating up from the simple feel of it, the strength, the warmth, the familiarity - but Minho held tight, squeezing my hand gently. “Hyung?” I asked.
“Shh,” Minho said in reply as the cameras swept close.
I put a smile on my face automatically but I wasn’t really paying attention to the show. Why was Minho being like this now? He hadn’t been like this since…
My brain slowed down, then froze. He hadn’t been like this since that first year when all of this started. I ripped my hand away, heart beating furiously. I wasn’t going to do this again, I wasn’t. Minho tried to grab my hand again, but I backed away. The camera swung my way and I ducked into the huddle around the winners. Minho tried to follow, but got stuck at the tail of a girl group I didn’t even know the name of. I grabbed Key’s arm, finding him in front of me.
“Did you know about this?” I demanded.
Key took a moment too long to put on his innocent face. “Knew what?”
He had known, I realized. And if Key knew, they all knew. Did that mean that Minho was serious this time? But they’d all known last time as well.
Key seemed to realize that they’d been caught, because he grabbed my arm before he was swept away. “Give him a chance,” he urged, then we were all shuffled off the stage as the winning song began to play. We got separated - Key disappeared into a girl group huddle as a rookie group cut between him and me. Then someone grabbed my arm. I looked back. Minho.
“Taemin,” he said, then looked around. This wasn’t the place to do anything. He tugged at my arm insistently, pulling me out of the mass of people. The others would cover for us, I knew, and this was probably the only time you could get lost at one of these shows, when we all came down from the stage at once in a huge mass. Two steps to the side and you would be somewhere you weren’t supposed to be without a single stage monitor to take notice.
Minho found us a corridor with fake doors, pulling us through one of them that lead into another corridor with a bathroom at the end that could be locked. Not the ideal location, but I didn’t stop him when he pulled me inside.
“Taemin,” he began and I just knew he was going to hold an earnest speech about it all.
“Do you mean it this time?” I interrupted, not up to listening. I couldn’t quite bring myself to cross my arms or glare at him or any of the things that were screaming to be done. The demand for the truth was still there in my voice though, clear as day. “Are you going to chicken out again?”
It wasn’t fair of course - how could it be when I had been so young back then, without the experience of the past two years? But the heart isn’t fair - not mine anyway.
Minho caught on fast. To his credit, he didn’t argue - didn’t try to settle it with words. I don’t think I would’ve believed him anyway. At this stage, I couldn’t believe him with anything less than what he gave me.
He kissed me. Leaned forward, grabbed my arm hard enough to bruise and kissed me. He was good at it too - by the end of it, my head was spinning and I desperately wanted more, enough that I clung to his stage shirt even though I knew the hell he’d get for ruining it. I’m sure, the kiss said - every nip, every slide of lips. I’m very, very sure.
I couldn’t do anything but believe it.
***
“Oh God, get a room.”
Minho broke our kiss, looking over my shoulder as the door opened. We shouldn’t have been doing it - we were going in less than five minutes, but we’d been alone and, well. We are little more than teenagers. “Five seconds,” he told Key.
“More like five milliseconds,” Key retorted and I knew he’d raised an eyebrow even though I was somewhat busy mouthing at Minho’s neck. “Manager-hyung is coming this way.”
And if that wasn’t a cold shower, then I don’t know what is. We jumped apart and when manager-hyung stuck his head through the door, we were on different sides of the room and doing something else. “Come on,” he said. “No dawdling.”
We came like meek ducklings, letting him herd us to the car. The others gave us knowing looks, letting us take the seats at the far back. Minho’s hand found mine as the car started and I laced our fingers together. It’d started like this, it’d ended like this and then it’d began anew in the same way. It was only fit that it continued like this as well. I let my head fall onto Minho’s shoulder. It’d been a long way to come where we’d ended up, but I thought it’d been worth it.
Well, mostly in any case.
Poll On the Way