SSS 2014: For The Community
For: The Community
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Ludus
Pairing: Jonghyun/Taemin, slight side!Onew/Key
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: mentions/use of drugs and alcohol
Authors’ Notes: Happy holidays from your Santa~
Jonghyun doesn’t understand the strange twist of fate that led him to this little scrap.
The scrap being Taemin. That’s unclear sometimes, because people tend to categorize his own body as being a little scrap. He doesn’t appreciate that bullshit.
It happened in a strange sort of way, though; the kid just sort of wandered into his room the night of the first big party on campus, a freshman that got a little too ambitious with the tequila. Of course, he was awake that fateful night (okay, morning) at one, when the guy happened into the room that was actually two down from his own. And of course, Jonghyun’s roommate (curse you, Jinki) just so happened to be out at that very same party at that moment. Which left Jonghyun and Taemin, one severely intoxicated and the other severely sleep-deprived, to deal with themselves. Taemin blinked at him in utter confusion, rambled something about him not being his roommate, hit on him a bit, then proceeded to throw up violently in the junior’s sink.
It was honestly a good thing Jonghyun was the RA on duty that night, too. It was a good thing he’d been trained for those sorts of debacles. He wasn’t trained, though, for the large glassy eyes and drunken lips that revealed slurred sober thoughts that coincidentally reflected his own. He’d expected Taemin to conk out after that episode, but he just wanted to talk. The morning after, they went to breakfast, Taemin apologized less than he should have (but that’s Taemin, really), and somehow morphed into best friends.
Yes, that’s how he met Lee Taemin. That’s how he incorporated the beanpole of a teenager into the squad. And anyone who knows Taemin, anyone who’s even briefly met the kid knows that the story is completely accurate and true to his personality.
Yes, that’s him. Lee Taemin - captain of the USS I Don’t Give a Shit, the boy who skates by on the fact that he’s so cute and, when he’s putting on his daily façade, naturally charismatic. Of course, real Taemin is different, but real Taemin doesn’t let a lot of people in that way.
Public Taemin has no sense of responsibility, lets people smoke bowls out the window of his room, watches ghost-hunting reality shows until five in the morning and doesn’t read any of the books for his English class. Public Taemin is the one drinking and smoking and putting off life while real Taemin takes the brunt of that stress and responds with insulin shots and bad jokes.
Jonghyun doesn’t know why their paths crossed, really.
And even more pertinent: Jonghyun doesn’t know why he’s so enamored.
---
“Have you ever liked someone so much that it makes you hate them?”
Jonghyun snorts. Yes, yes he has. Taemin takes another swig of his chocolate milk and sets the empty cup down on his tray, begins drying it out with a napkin so that he can undoubtedly shove it in his jacket and smuggle it out of the cafeteria. He’s building a set of twenty-two for beer pong, and this would be number seventeen.
“I have,” Jonghyun responds, and watches his young friend’s eyes trail across a few tables to a girl with red hair who’s bundled appropriately for the colder December weather. Her head turns and Jonghyun can tell she’s cute, but not inherently Taemin’s type. She must be his fixation of the week. Taemin goes through these cycles where he picks girls or guys he finds attractive and preoccupies himself with them until the next one comes along. But for the time being, he’s completely in love. “Who’s she?”
He’s not actually in love. Jonghyun just thinks he’s being facetious. Because, while a lot of people really do like Taemin, the freshman has a habit of picking those who don’t.
Taemin bats his eyelashes at the back of her head and picks up his fork yet again to pillage the lump of Salisbury steak he’s gotten. Jonghyun’s still picking through his apple pie. “She’s in my bio lab. I think she’s into it.”
Meaning, not at all. What an asshole. “Is she, now?”
“She makes insane amounts of eye contact. I’m pretty sure it’s just with me. That’s like, the key body language signal of attraction.”
“Body language isn’t scientific law, Mr. Science Major.”
Taemin snorts. He doesn’t appreciate Jonghyun’s snark. “Whatever. I just wanted to call attention to my new Thing.”
He’s trying to stifle the little voice deep down with a pillow - the one that’s telling him to slap Taemin in the face with reality or kiss his face. Jonghyun’s doing his best to asphyxiate the little demon, he really is. “All right, man. Now shut up and eat your mushrooms or something.”
shut up shut up shut up
“You disgust me,” he says, giving an indignant pout.
Maybe Jonghyun should asphyxiate Taemin.
Maybe Jonghyun will be Taemin’s Thing one day.
---
Jonghyun first wakes up to the rustling of the sheets on his bed.
His first thought is, impossible, because Jinki’s out for the night studying and wouldn’t climb into bed with him. Also, he locks the door when Jinki’s out. Which means that no one should be climbing into bed with him. At all.
His second thought is ohhhhh fuck.
He shoots up to a sitting position like a bullet and ends up smacking foreheads with a lanky brunet. Specifically, the one that makes his life hell. Taemin. “What the fuck, man?”
That should be his line. “No, you-“ Jonghyun doesn’t have the time to think of a comeback, especially when he realizes he’s mostly naked. He doesn’t like to sleep in very many layers, but Taemin doesn’t seem to care. He just groans or moans in pain, gives a little huff, and wiggles his way into Jonghyun’s twin XL. Jonghyun lies back down and nurses the pulsing knot forming on his forehead. “What?”
He shouldn’t be taking note of the way Taemin’s basically his little spoon right now. Which is also kind of awkward because Taemin’s a good three inches taller than him and slightly maybe more broad since he hasn’t had the time to work out recently. What if he gets a boner? This is a bad situation. “I’ve been sexiled.”
“Wait, what?”
“Jongin finally got in his TA’s pants. Some guy with weirdly large eyes, the one he’s always talking about. Anyway, I walk in from my stint at the library actually writing a paper for once and my roommate’s fucking this dude and told me to leave so I came here. I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”
Oh. Well.
Jonghyun’s a bit flattered Taemin chose here. It technically is the only place that Taemin could probably go (well, he could go to Minho and Kibum’s but that one could be a little awkward), but he’s still uselessly happy. This is dumb. Feelings are dumb. He hates the fluttery feeling he gets whenever he thinks about Taemin’s dumb fairy face.
This brings up the question of reciprocity, though. But that’s one Jonghyun should mull over when Taemin’s ass isn’t precariously near his junk. And speaking of, Taemin’s readjusting his position and he probably didn’t mean to but he totally just grinded on Jonghyun.
Whoop, there it is.
---
If there’s one important thing to note about the couches in the student center, it’s that the middle cushion is the best. All the couches in the area are kind of L-shaped, and the middle cushion gives you enough space to burrow into the crook of the L and sit criss-cross. It’s probably the most comfortable and spacious seat ever.
Which is why Jonghyun and Taemin are constantly fighting over it. To the death.
Jonghyun wheels around the corner first, fast-walking as quickly as his legs can take him, backpack at the ready to slingshot off and onto the couch to claim the desired spot. Taemin jets around him, though, pushing him a bit to throw off his balance and buy some time. The weasel beelines for the middle seat and pounces, jumps on the cushion so fast and so hard it makes the two people on the adjacent couch jolt in surprise.
“Haha, fuck you.” Typical.
Taemin sticks out his tongue in a playful manner, wiggling down into his spot. Jonghyun wrinkles up his nose and throws his stuff down to Taemin’s right. “You’re a sore loser,” Taemin comments, and Jonghyun doesn’t grace him with a response. He should probably care more about his upcoming sociology test than Taemin’s petty taunts.
He should care more about his homework than the other boy’s physical features. “Before you sit down, can you get me a chocolate milk from the café pleeeaaase?” Jonghyun just stares at him, long and hard, and Taemin bats his lashes. He’s too damn cute.
“Seriously?”
It’s not like it’s a far walk (it’s literally inside the student center), or that it takes too much out of his wallet (it’s ninety-nine cents). It’s more a factor of frustration than anything else. “Yes, please,” Taemin sends back, and starts digging out books.
Sometimes he wonders if Taemin’s simply exploiting him for his money and experience and kickass advice. Jonghyun does it, though; he grabs himself a large cappuccino and gets Taemin his milk and orders a large cheesy bread for them to split. Taemin has dance after this; he needs sustenance. Afterwards, Jonghyun pulls out his book and pretends like the other isn’t there, much to Taemin’s dismay. Whatever - the freshman has stuff he should be doing, too.
Halfway into the chapter he’s supposed to be reading, Jonghyun notices that Taemin sits up a bit straighter, goes kind of pale, calls to attention. It’s noticeable to the point that it makes Jonghyun look in the direction that he’s staring in, and when he does, he sees…
A handful of hipsters, a blonde, and Jinki. Jonghyun’s roommate is jamming out on his headphones reading a text or something when he looks up and sees them, waves and walks on. He’s probably going to the tech center; Jonghyun smiles and waves back, but Taemin blinks and keeps staring. At Jinki. “Where was he going?” The boy asked him, and Jonghyun just shrugged.
“Probably going to work on a project or study or visit Kibum. Why? What’s up with you?”
Taemin doesn’t take his eyes off the spot where the other junior disappeared. “Promise you won’t tell anyone? Not even Minho.”
Okay, this is weird. “I- uh, when do I ever? I’m like the best secret keeper since…”
The dark-haired freshman doesn’t let him continue, instead interrupts him in the middle of the trail he’s leaving with his silence. “Just promise.”
“I promise.”
“I think I may be in love with Jinki. This time for real, real.”
Oh, oh no.
He shouldn’t be feeling this insane amount of anger well up in his chest. Holy fuck. Jonghyun remembers the question Taemin asked him the other day; “have you ever liked someone so much that it makes you hate them?”
And the answer is yes but still partially no, because god damn it, he really likes Taemin, but really hates the way he can’t go a day without seeing his face. Jonghyun hates the way he’s no longer used to being alone, hates the way Taemin makes him feel dizzy. He hates the feelings he has and he hates himself right now for feeling so betrayed when Taemin really doesn’t owe him anything.
He’s jealous of Jinki and Jinki literally has done nothing. He hates being jealous of Jinki. He hates that he feels sick to his stomach, pained in his chest.
He hates himself for feeling these things, to be honest. Hates that the fact that Taemin’s picked someone he’s actually friends with, someone he’s actually close to as his Thing. It just makes it more real. It makes it that much easier for Taemin to actually fall for Jinki and hell, even though the elder’s had his eyes set on Kibum for some time, what’s stopping him from looking at that obnoxiously attractive face and caving?
He’s starting to hate Taemin for making him feel this way, for decidedly not returning the sentiment and initiating anything between them.
But then he realizes that’s horse shit and bites back his pride, smiles along with the stupid meme Taemin’s using to divert the topic that he’s missed half of because of this damned introspection.
---
Apparently, Taemin started liking Jinki the day he spent the night in Jonghyun’s bed. Jinki came back around three in the morning, a good hour-ish after Taemin came in. Jonghyun had fallen back asleep, miraculously, but Taemin woke up when Jinki clicked the door shut. He’d (mostly) shut his eyes quickly, though, to make it seem like he was out, and Jinki had come over, picked up a blanket that had fallen off and whispered good night. His sweetness or whatever-the-fuck was what drew him in, and Taemin spent the rest of the night thinking about how considerate and giving he was, as well as how handsome, and the fact that he knew he was handsome, etc.
“It was honestly fated,” he explained. Jonghyun had wanted to puke. The funny thing is that Taemin would have never said he liked Jinki before that night. They were pretty good friends then, too. He can’t identify what it was in Taemin’s mind that made the switch for him. Taemin can’t really, either.
It almost feels unfair. It wasn’t at all how Jonghyun fell for Taemin. And if he could pull that with Jinki, then why couldn’t Taemin flip that switch for Jonghyun the next time he buys him something or lets him in his bed? That’s kind. That’s generous.
God damn it, they’ve even kissed before. Screw Sexy Jenga.
But Jonghyun fell for Taemin in a rush; he’d seen the freshman wandering about during orientation week and thought he was cute almost immediately, but the first time they met that night when Taemin was drunk, Jonghyun hadn’t known how to deal with himself. Taemin looked gorgeous with his glassy eyes and mussed hair that fell right into those eyes and when he bit his lip it sent shivers down his spine. He was hooked on his looks and then when Taemin clung to him it pushed him over the edge. He liked him. End of story. Instant attraction.
And Jonghyun had thought Taemin was into him, too - what with the “you’re… you’re not m’ roommate. But you’re cute. Like a button. Mini-human. I like your chest, can I sleep on it?” But, apparently not. Also, let the record show that Jonghyun is a normal sized human being.
But the way he’s been talking about Jinki the past few days has been driving Jonghyun insane. The way he’s been spending more time in Jonghyun’s room has been messing with him, too, because Jonghyun knows it’s all for the elder junior and Taemin really is just using him as Jinki’s roommate. And the worst part of this? Jonghyun keeps waiting for him to point someone new out to him in the cafeteria, because Taemin never stays on mark for two long. But weeks have gone by and he’s still at it, still watching for Jinki in the periphery of his vision and tweeting things he know Jinki will like just to get a conversation started.
And it’s awful.
“Will you please, please, please help me out with this?”
Never mind. This may actually be the worst part of this debacle - the fact that Taemin is coming to him for all his advising needs. “Taemin-“
He groans, shuts Jonghyun’s door and jumps up on his bed. From Jonghyun’s position at his desk he also groans, slips closed his composition book. Taemin can’t see him writing about sad things right now. “Jonghyun, I know Jinki and I are already friends and stuff, but that doesn’t help me at all. I really mostly only talk to you, anyway, so yeah. I need help.”
“What about the group text?” Jonghyun asks, grabbing a water bottle from the box on his floor. “You seem to talk to him fine in the group text.”
Taemin sends him a glare. “It’s not the same.”
At a certain point, he has to cave. Jonghyun’s a weak guy when it comes to Taemin and giving him what he wants (even if what Taemin wants is to be dating his roommate). “Okay, dude, fine. What do you need to know?”
Taemin grins and Jonghyun’s stomach grows heavier with dread. It might not even happen, to be honest. That’s a horrible thought but it’s the only life raft he has in this pit of jealousy. But Jinki has been doing circles around Kibum the same way Jonghyun’s been crushing on Taem and that would probably impede Taemin’s attempts. Jinki’s nice, though. What if he tried it out just for the sake of their friendship? No, Jinki’s nice. He’d probably explain why they couldn’t be together and then talk about how it’s not Taemin, it’s him, and he wouldn’t want to put Taemin through a relationship in which one member was more invested than the other.
Yeah. Okay. “Just… you know Jinki incredibly well, yeah? How should I approach him about this? Should I outright confess? How, keeping him in mind, should I go about that? I really just don’t want to ruin our friendship or fuck up the squad.”
“I feel like this is a test,” Jonghyun wrinkles up his nose, tries to start thinking about what Taemin’s asked of him. He hates being the one who has to do this. “Okay, well, Jinki’s a pretty simple guy. He’s charming and playful but he’s also really serious about like doing his work and he’s really protective of the people he cares about. With Jinki, you’re going to have to be the one sharing your feelings and prompting him to share him, because he keeps everything bottled up.
“That being said, he’s kind. You could literally approach him any way and him be accepting of your feelings; he’s fond of you as a friend. I guess you should probably tell him what you feel if you feel strongly for him. Just, I don’t know, be like ‘hey okay so I respect and value our friendship, which is why I wanted to talk to you about-“
“What are you guys talking about?” Jinki enters the room with a small smile, dimples flaring, his scruffy brown hair showing the signs of a recent tousle. Jonghyun won’t call attention to that, now. Taemin goes blank, much like Jonghyun feels when he’s handed tests.
He should probably make this situation seem less dubious. “Not much, man. Just describing the latest season of Parks and Rec. to Taemin. He has yet to watch it.”
Jinki’s eyebrows rise almost dramatically. He loves that show. They watch it together. “What? You’re serious-“
“Nice Sperry’s.”
Jonghyun looks to Taemin with a confused expression. Taemin’s eyes are fixated on Jinki’s feet as if he knows he has truly fucked up. Jinki just kind of laughs. “I… thanks, man.”
---
“Will you help me bake a weed cake?”
Jonghyun stops dead in his tracks. He was en route to the laundry room when a head pokes out of a door and springs the question on him. Ah yes, it’s Taemin’s door. Because Taemin lives there. It’s Taemin’s room. Oops. “Wait, what? Say that again?”
Okay, so maybe Jonghyun’s been trying to avoid Taemin a little bit to avoid the Jinki coaching sessions. He hasn’t actually been very successful to be quite honest. He’s weak. He caves after the phone sends him a reminder buzz. “A weed cake. With like, cannabis oil. I got some from my roommate’s friends with benefits dude.”
“Dude.” Well, if Jonghyun was going to do something like this with anyone, he’d want it to be the chem. major. “I don’t… can’t people like, smell it? Where would we bake it?”
“Our floor’s kitchen. You can monitor your laundry while we bake it, I have all the ingredients~”
“Is this wise? I’m an RA.”
“Which means we won’t be getting in trouble. Come on, we can put m&m’s in the batter.”
Fuck. Fuck, that’s a good offer. “Okay, I’m game.”
The grin lighting Taemin’s face is blinding, pure sunshine. It makes Jonghyun smile, too, thrum with excitement because, okay, yeah. This will actually be kind of fun maybe if they don’t get in trouble. And the fact that Jonghyun is the floor RA is actually kind of protecting them. Oh man. “I’ll buy the candy. Oh man this is going to be the greatest thing in the world, you don’t even know.”
No talk of Jinki yet. That’s good. Jonghyun laughs and propels himself down the hallway after his turbulent friend, goes a little past him to the laundry room and gets his stuff going. He leaves his thing of detergent and basket by his machine and pokes his head back in where Taemin’s setting out all the ingredients. There’s money set out by the vending machine. “Plop that shit in and push D6. We need two bags.”
Jonghyun obliges, has to shake the old machine just a bit in order for it to actually give him the m&m’s. Taemin’s greasing down a decent-sized circular cake mold and there’s a container of pungent oil set out with the few eggs he probably borrowed from the community fridge. Jonghyun probably shouldn’t trust Taemin with cooking, to be honest. “What next, captain?”
“Can you… find a bowl? I don’t know how this stuff works.” Yes, he definitely shouldn’t be trusted. Taemin starts poking around in the smaller drawers for what is probably a whisk or spoon or something. He pulls out a thing of measuring cups. “Do you think these are sanitary?”
“You should wash them to be safe.”
The younger nods, finding this reasonable. No one really knows where the community supplies have been. Jonghyun hands over a reasonable-looking mixing bowl to be cleaned. “Wanna put on some tunes? Also, I hope you weren’t doing anything important. And if you were, I’m sorry if I pulled you away. Though I know you would have rather been here with my cute butt.”
Taemin winks and kicks back a leg to add to the dramatic flare he’s projecting. Jonghyun snorts. “Definitely. But nah, wasn’t doing anything, really, just fucking around with Delores.” His guitar. That’s his guitar. “I should be starting to study for things or work on my final projects and papers. It’s crazy how fast this semester has gone by.”
“I don’t feel like doing anything, though, that’s my issue.”
Jonghyun starts them up with his indie playlist. Taemin rips open the pack of m&m’s only to take one for himself, then laughs and actually gets to baking. Jonghyun’s relieved when the eggs he breaks aren’t like, rotten. “Okay, measure out the amount of oil that the box says, and I’ll get the water. Also, do you have ‘Bohemian Rhapsody?’”
Jonghyun takes the oil and wrinkles up his nose at it, but starts pouring, anyway. “Yeah. If you get a hold of my phone, just search it.”
“Oh hell yes. We’re singing this loudly.” Taemin looks like he’s the happiest person in the world right now. He pours in water and all the candy scrappily then races over and inputs the password, starts scrolling. Jonghyun pours in the oil, too, and starts mixing. They’re probably doing this wrong. The colors of the candy shells are starting to run. “Is this the real life?”
Taemin is the one who’s always prompting these dramatic duets. Usually it’s when one of them is down about something and it’s something motivational or Kanye West. And then he starts dancing around like a dead fish (even though he’s actually an amazing dancer). “Or is this just fantasy?”
Taemin’s on scholarship, actually, for participation in dance ensemble. Their school’s fairly renown for their arts programs, to be honest - their whole group is a part of the art program, too. Jinki and Kibum are on theater scholarship, Jonghyun’s on music scholarship and majoring in it, and Minho’s majoring in film. But Taemin, he’s probably the most highly qualified dead fish in their school.
They laugh through “Bohemian Rhapsody” because Taemin tries his hand at breakdancing at inopportune times. But then again, they’re usually laughing. Anyway, by the time they have the weird-looking cake batter spooned into the pan, the song’s over and Jonghyun’s laundry is dinging. All that’s left is the baking.
They slide to the floor and set a timer. This is nice.
“Do you think Jinki’d want a piece? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him high. This stuff will be killer.”
Okay, it was nice. “Maybe.”
Jonghyun can’t help but count down the days until Taemin’s fixation with Jinki is over and done with.
---
“Let’s get fucked, boys. It’s the last party before finals week. Taemin, you’re about to experience hell. Let loose.”
At their university, the biggest clusterfuck parties (not even the best or the most fun, just the most sloppy, drunken, etc.) happen at the beginning and the end of the semesters.
And, here they are, all five members of the squad gathered in Minho and Kibum’s room to carry on that tradition on a lively Saturday night. They can hear people walking by in the halls of the dorm and there’s music playing on the first floor, which, in their dorm for the “party guys” is the hotspot of activity. On these nights, the first floor RA is basically paid to not give a fuck, and everyone just kind of crams in the rooms and dances on furniture and forgets about their problems.
Minho and Kibum live on the second floor, so there’s only a floor between them and not caring. But there’s a whole lot of illegal substances (well, only kind of, seeing as Jonghyun and Jinki are both twenty-one) to go, still.
Kibum and Jinki are pouring shots in solo cups, the scent of Kibum’s dreaded cranberry vodka permeating the room. It’s honestly disgusting without a chaser, but the more you have, the less you care. Kibum’s a lightweight but he’s already down four shots and Jinki’s nursing eight. Jonghyun’s working up the courage that he doesn’t exactly have yet - he doesn’t really like drinking that much as he’s also a lightweight (much more than Kibum, as he doesn’t have the same resistance built up). But he’s promised them all that tonight he’ll be taking part, especially since he’s not on duty tonight.
Kibum and Jinki entwine their arms and giggle all the way through a lovers’ shot, all the while Taemin and Minho are splitting their second bowl out the window. It’s a good thing Taemin’s not watching - the two are being really flirtatious, to be honest, and just thinking about the freshman being slapped with reality is making him want to drink more and more. He can see the effects in both of them, though - Minho’s eyes are hazy and he’s moving like each second for him is lasting an eternity. Taemin looks a bit different, a bit more giggly, because he’s taken a few shots with it. Cross-faded Taemin is precarious and slightly dangerous Taemin. He once tried to hop from Jonghyun’s window to the fire escape.
Okay, yeah. He really needs something to quell his anxiety. “Guys, give me something to down. I just want to get it over with.”
He shouldn’t trust the catlike smirk on Kibum’s face. But the bottle starts draining into a new cup and it’s rising above the single shot mark. He needs one night, just one, where he doesn’t have to care so much. Minho leans out the window a bit in order to empty the ashes and then closes it at the same time Kibum stops pouring. “That’s probably like, five. I’ll give you ten bucks if you can chug the whole thing.”
He’ll probably puke. This piques Taemin’s interest, though, and the two leggy brunets make their way over. “Seriously?”
“Do it.”
It’s ten. If he pukes, he’ll demand twenty. “Okay,” he puts the cup to his lips and lets the liquid rush down and burn him. His body shudders and his tongue rejects it, but he keeps going as per the cheers from his guys. “Fuck, that’s disgusting. Fuck, sprite. Taemin, hand me a sprite.”
“That’ll hit you fast. Shall we start our night?” Jinki leans back against Kibum’s bedframe with a Cheshire grin. Taemin’s cheeks flush.
They head down then without much talk about it, rooms all unlocked and IDs in their pockets. Jonghyun doesn’t feel much yet but they’re right, it won’t take very long at all. And in the meantime, Taemin’s hopeless puppy expression and the stifling claustrophobia of the rooms will probably have him a nervous, dismal wreck.
Okay, when sweat is precipitating from the walls and ceiling, that’s when you know you should stop.
When did Taemin get on that table?
Who the heck is dancing on him oh no-
It’s hitting him.
He doesn’t know how long they’re in the room, but by the time it goes from “Thrift Shop” to “Anaconda,” Jonghyun’s making a break for it. He can tell the guys are following, because someone grabs his sleeve but doesn’t tug him bag, merely follows. “Air,” he explains. “I need air.”
They’re all swaying, no one’s walking in straight lines tonight. They make it to the small pavilion across from the dorm, and Minho immediately slumps into a chair and looks like he’s being weighted down. Jonghyun picks standing, and Kibum picks Jinki’s lap, which picks the other chair. Taemin doesn’t look like he likes this. “We should do something else now.” Minho doesn’t respond and they all fall into silence save for the small amount of music trailing from Taemin’s phone, because when he’s intoxicated he doesn’t like quiet.
“We all need air or something.”
“I think we went a bit overboard,” Jinki laughs, and it’s like his voice is emitting multiple conflicting frequencies.
Kibum smiles at him. “Maybe you did.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Taemin tries to toss his own two cents in as he does a lot, but he’s left hanging when no one responds. His ears are red. Jonghyun wants to kiss him.
Taemin wants to kiss Jinki.
Jinki wants to kiss Kibum, which is evident when they close the distance between themselves, crush their mouths together. Minho chokes in mock disgust and Kibum bites down pretty hard on Jinki’s lip, causing the elder to moan a bit.
Yeah, now it’s all gone to shit.
Jonghyun feels like he’s weaving in and out of his own body. Taemin’s there, giggling, because his being cross-faded isn’t helping the fact that something horrible is happening for the boy. And Jonghyun feels awful, really, because Taemin had wanted to try and get with Jinki here, but here the other junior is, lips locked with a certain raven-haired sophomore.
Taemin looks like he can’t process what’s going on, but Jonghyun knows he’s not that far gone, and it makes his heart hurt. Taemin just laughs. Minho looks at him in confusion. Jonghyun feels like the outside wind is going to push him over. “Let’s go do something,” Taemin’s words are lazy and tinted with defeat. “Jonghyun, let’s go dance.”
Yes, he’s upset. Jonghyun feels those five shots so vibrantly again, and it makes him upset, because he’d rather Taemin not be upset about someone at all. If Taemin liked him, he wouldn’t be upset about anything ever because Jonghyun wouldn’t let that happen. Wait, dancing? “Where?” The dorm’s bottom floor is going hard but Jonghyun can’t deal with that again, doesn’t want to dance on top of a table with people he can’t-
Taemin grabs his hand before he or Minho can object, pulls him away before Jinki or Kibum can notice. “I have a key to the arts building. Let’s go dance.”
He’s speaking surprisingly clearly and Jonghyun just kind of has to follow, because he doesn’t know what else he’d do. But he feels almost miserable right now. Taemin’s miserable, too. He wants to make him happy but he can’t, he’s not Jinki. “Is that allowed?”
“Dance scholarship students are given keys so they can practice, and some students choreograph for ensemble, so…” Taemin must have sobered up a bit at the sight of Jinki and Kibum. If anything, that made Jonghyun’s head even fuzzier. “It’s allowed. I’m ‘practicing,’ but honestly I come in here a lot to blow off… blow um, what’s the…”
“Steam.” This makes sense. Taemin disappears when they get into arguments or when he gets upset, only to reappear later with three times the sweat on his body. “That’s cool.”
Taemin huffs, quickens his pace. It’s freezing, and it’s only now starting to seep into Jonghyun’s mind that his fingers are numb. “I need to kick something. This is so stupid. Why am I even upset?”
That’s how Jonghyun feels.
“They’ve probably been talking for a while… I’m a fucking idiot.”
They get inside the building and Taemin doesn’t bother with the lights until they’re back at the practice room. Then he blares them, bee-lines for the stereo. He hooks up his phone before Jonghyun can even take a deep breath, pushes play on what Jonghyun knows will be his slightly angsty, in-your-face playlist. Jonghyun can feel the music hit him in the chest and he just watches as Taemin starts to pace in front of the large mirrors, looking small and thin in his loose thermal. Jonghyun sees himself and he, too, looks small. He’s pitiful, really.
Cherub, he’s playing Cherub. Jonghyun can see him pulsing with the beats, muscles flexing taut against his skin as he moves jerkily yet fluidly. “I love this place, really. Even just laying on the floor and blasting music helps. And no one can complain because it’s a fucking dance studio.”
Beat, beat. Jonghyun doesn’t know what he’s doing. “Come join me.”
Beat. Jonghyun doesn’t know how to respond. He shrugs off hit own jacket and dumps his baseball cap, starts moving the hips he really doesn’t have. “God, this night sucks. I hate being this angry at nothing.”
Beat, beat, beat. “What’s wrong? Oh my god Jong-“
This is the floor. His fingers are numb and he’s suddenly overcome with the fact that he hurts, and everything is still painfully slow-paced and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, this is so stupid, why is he so miserable?
“Jonghyun, no, please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I love you, it’s okay, please.”
This is so pointless.
---
After the festivities of the previous night, the “squad” saw some changes. Large ones. The primary being - Jinki and Kibum officially labeled their relationship, leaving no room for Taemin’s crush. Taemin had been pretty wounded by that the morning after. Jonghyun halted that text conversation before it could get to him.
The other change was that of Jonghyun’s take on just about everything. And that came about with the help of Minho.
“I need to get over him.”
Minho looks at him with those big, mushy eyes and Jonghyun is taken back to the time wherein Minho was his best bud, before he started telling his secrets to Changmin and before Jonghyun turned to Taemin. Minho’s a surprisingly great moral council. “I agree. I mean, even if he were to reciprocate your feelings, do you actually think Taemin would be right for-“
“Yes.” A beat. God damn it, Jonghyun. “Okay, that’s beside the point. The point is that, despite our insane compatibility, he just doesn’t seem to be attracted to me in a romantic sense. Maybe a little sexual, because he’s hit on me before and I’m pretty sure he’s watched me change clothes a few times, but still. The point is that I’m never really going to be Taemin’s person, so I need to get over him.”
Minho shakes his head, props his elbows up on the cafeteria table and shoves his tray to the side. “I don’t think that’s exactly it. Don’t sound so dejected - you may not be what he idealized Jinki to be, but that doesn’t mean you’re not his person. You’re literally each others’ everything.”
That hurt. That shouldn’t have hurt. “I need to get over him.”
“I think you should tell him how you feel.”
Before Jonghyun can send Minho an incredulous look that lets him know that that’s exactly the opposite of what I’m saying, asshole, Minho silences him with a cleared throat and an obvious glance toward the entrance of the dining area. When Jonghyun cranes his head around to look he notices a hampered Taemin making his way through with his own tray, noting them almost immediately.
“What’s up, guys?”
Minho smiles a bit and Jonghyun can’t speak, can’t even tell him it’s nothing because it isn’t and he still feels like puking at the thought of talking about his feelings to the younger.
---
Jonghyun let finals be his excuse for not being available to Taemin this time.
He’s just been… way too down. He’s gone from angry to sad to apathetic, picked on himself and spent too many nights wrought with insomnia. To be honest, he’s counting down the days until break when he can effectively actually distance himself.
Jonghyun feels way too guilty.
Minho thinks he should confess but Jonghyun doesn’t want to say jack shit, doesn’t want to open his mouth and watch the dregs of their recently-neglected friendship go down the drain.
Taemin thinks he should pick up his phone or answer his door. He’s making that clear by the mass amounts of bored texts he’s sending.
Public Taemin is pestering him and probably wants to eat all of his oreos.
Private Taemin is slipping a great amount of urgency into his messages. Private Taemin is worried about him.
“Have you ever liked someone so much that it makes you hate them?”
He should text back.
“I think I may be in love with Jinki. This time for real, real.”
He should study. For real.
”Jonghyun, no, please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I love you.”
This is dumb. This is so dumb. Jonghyun closes his book swiftly, plugs in his phone, silences it. He’s going to bed. He has to be up at seven-thirty for his eight-thirty final, after all.
This stupid feeling stuff isn’t worth it.
---
The first time Jonghyun met Taemin, he’d been sloppy and twittering and tender, apologetic, hesitant. That was how Private Taemin manifested that night as he wandered into unknown territory and was searching for a friend.
“What the hell, dude?”
Right now, though, he’s the exact opposite. It’s eight in the morning and Private Taemin’s storming down the center aisle of the cafeteria to Jonghyun’s secluded position in the middle of the back left table. Shouldn’t he… “Shouldn’t you be at dance ensemble right n-“
Taemin yanks the chair across from Jonghyun out and sits down with a very loud smack. He doesn’t even have any food. Just anger. Jonghyun doesn’t like this. He also doesn’t like the fact that it’s thirty minutes before his advanced music theory final and Taemin looks like he wants to talk.
Jonghyun doesn’t want to talk to Taemin.
Jonghyun should face his problems, honestly.
“Shouldn’t you be fucking talking to me? Jesus Christ, Jonghyun, what did I do? Why the hell have you been blowing me off?”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. “Taemin, it’s not you-“
“Bull shit it’s not me. Please, Jonghyun. I’ve been freaking out for days because you literally have completely ignored me, and only me. I even asked Jinki what was wrong and he said you’d been acting weird, yeah, but you’ve at least talked to him. And I was with Minho the other day and saw you guys had a text convo going even though you’d ignored my last five, and…“ The few people in the cafeteria are looking at them. Taemin’s raised his voice to a very audible level and it’s transmitting to anyone who’s willing to get their daily dose of friend drama. Taemin trails off and looks down to where he’s clenching his fists and Jonghyun doesn’t know what to say, just watches as some of the straight-up anger fades from his eyes and he slips more into that hesitancy from day one.
This right here?
If Taemin liked him, he wouldn’t be upset about anything ever because Jonghyun wouldn’t let that happen.
This isn’t what Jonghyun wanted. In some strange way, he sort of thought that not talking to Taemin wouldn’t actually bother him much, would benefit him in some way. And now that he thinks about that logic he realizes that it’s flawed, stupid. “I’m so sorry, oh my god.” Now he feels like an even bigger piece of shit than before. “Seriously this was all me please don’t think I’m mad at you or you did something wrong, because you didn’t, honestly. I’m sorry.”
“Then what is it, Jonghyun? Please just give me something. I honestly feel like shit right now and I won’t be able to focus on anything until you give me an answer.”
“It’s because I like you.”
Silence. There’s a definite lull in the conversation when Taemin looks at him like he’s growing a second (actually, maybe eighth) head. Jonghyun figures he hasn’t even actually realized what’s been said yet, because there’s a noticeable shift in his expression from deeply confused to… “What?”
Jonghyun is definitely going to fail this next final. He’s literally about to throw up. “I’ve, uh,” may as well tell him. He already said most of it. “Well, I’ve kind of had a thing for you for a really long time, since we first met, and it’s been really easy to just kind of ignore it all and just be your friend but ever since you started liking Jinki, it’s been so hard to just…”
“Say it.”
“Be around you. I’ve been feeling really miserable and I shouldn’t because you don’t owe me those feelings but I just have really liked you and it’s painful and I’m being dumb, I’m so sorry.”
At this point in all the romance movies, the person confessing would stay seated and maybe cry a bit, and the unrequited love would hold them and tell them how they’re valuable and deserve more than them.
Jonghyun, in contrast, books it. He stands up and leaves his tray and all, rushes out the cafeteria with Taemin sputtering behind. They younger grabs his tray and follows, puts it on the rack and makes it out the door by the time Jonghyun has hit the stairs. “Jonghyun!” Yeah, he hears Taemin. But he’s got to go take a test and fail it and die, that’s probably a bit more important than watching his best friend pity him.
He’s made it out the door of the student center and has entered into a bit of a jog. Taemin’s still calling after him, and he’s pretty sure they just passed a very concerned Minho who’s taking his actual morning jog.
“Jonghyun, fucking stop!”
He’s shaking. Jonghyun’s freaking quivering in his boots, terrified because he just did the unthinkable. He ignored his best friend, made him miserable, then proceeded to dump his crush on the freshman right before his morning final. Not to mention he didn’t sleep. Or eat any of the food he was supposed to. He’s basically fucked. “I have to go, Taemin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything.”
Jonghyun makes a mistake when he turns back to face Taemin, because it slows him down just enough for Taemin to catch up to him and grab his arm. Jonghyun swallows hard and Taemin looks (down) at him with those dumb cute eyes. ”Please don’t apologize. I’m… I should really be the one saying sorry. I should have figured it out and I shouldn’t have told you all about Jinki-“
“But I’m glad you did. I’m happy that you come to me and you shouldn’t be apologizing because you have no obligation to guard my feelings and I honestly just shoved my guts in your face and I’m sorry.”
“Let’s both stop apologizing.”
Taemin seems serious about that one. It’s probably a good idea, too. Jonghyun just nods, and then almost apologizes. “Okay.”
There’s a pause before Taemin’s words catch up to his quick sprint out the door. “And don’t tell me I have no obligation to honor your feelings, oh my god. What the heck, dude? You’re my person. I’m going to watch out for you the same way you’re always doing nice things for me and, you know what?”
“I’m your person?”
“You shouldn’t be sorry that you told me you liked me because I fucking like you, too, you big buttface. God, I hate you sometimes. But not really. I just didn’t think you liked me so I tried to be friends with you and let’s be, real, I’d pick you over Jinki and day. Okay, fuck this.”
There’s another pause and then Taemin’s grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him and literally he just called him a buttface? What??? Why is he- oh.
Holy shit.
From: Your Secret Santa
Title: Ludus
Pairing: Jonghyun/Taemin, slight side!Onew/Key
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: mentions/use of drugs and alcohol
Authors’ Notes: Happy holidays from your Santa~
Jonghyun doesn’t understand the strange twist of fate that led him to this little scrap.
The scrap being Taemin. That’s unclear sometimes, because people tend to categorize his own body as being a little scrap. He doesn’t appreciate that bullshit.
It happened in a strange sort of way, though; the kid just sort of wandered into his room the night of the first big party on campus, a freshman that got a little too ambitious with the tequila. Of course, he was awake that fateful night (okay, morning) at one, when the guy happened into the room that was actually two down from his own. And of course, Jonghyun’s roommate (curse you, Jinki) just so happened to be out at that very same party at that moment. Which left Jonghyun and Taemin, one severely intoxicated and the other severely sleep-deprived, to deal with themselves. Taemin blinked at him in utter confusion, rambled something about him not being his roommate, hit on him a bit, then proceeded to throw up violently in the junior’s sink.
It was honestly a good thing Jonghyun was the RA on duty that night, too. It was a good thing he’d been trained for those sorts of debacles. He wasn’t trained, though, for the large glassy eyes and drunken lips that revealed slurred sober thoughts that coincidentally reflected his own. He’d expected Taemin to conk out after that episode, but he just wanted to talk. The morning after, they went to breakfast, Taemin apologized less than he should have (but that’s Taemin, really), and somehow morphed into best friends.
Yes, that’s how he met Lee Taemin. That’s how he incorporated the beanpole of a teenager into the squad. And anyone who knows Taemin, anyone who’s even briefly met the kid knows that the story is completely accurate and true to his personality.
Yes, that’s him. Lee Taemin - captain of the USS I Don’t Give a Shit, the boy who skates by on the fact that he’s so cute and, when he’s putting on his daily façade, naturally charismatic. Of course, real Taemin is different, but real Taemin doesn’t let a lot of people in that way.
Public Taemin has no sense of responsibility, lets people smoke bowls out the window of his room, watches ghost-hunting reality shows until five in the morning and doesn’t read any of the books for his English class. Public Taemin is the one drinking and smoking and putting off life while real Taemin takes the brunt of that stress and responds with insulin shots and bad jokes.
Jonghyun doesn’t know why their paths crossed, really.
And even more pertinent: Jonghyun doesn’t know why he’s so enamored.
---
“Have you ever liked someone so much that it makes you hate them?”
Jonghyun snorts. Yes, yes he has. Taemin takes another swig of his chocolate milk and sets the empty cup down on his tray, begins drying it out with a napkin so that he can undoubtedly shove it in his jacket and smuggle it out of the cafeteria. He’s building a set of twenty-two for beer pong, and this would be number seventeen.
“I have,” Jonghyun responds, and watches his young friend’s eyes trail across a few tables to a girl with red hair who’s bundled appropriately for the colder December weather. Her head turns and Jonghyun can tell she’s cute, but not inherently Taemin’s type. She must be his fixation of the week. Taemin goes through these cycles where he picks girls or guys he finds attractive and preoccupies himself with them until the next one comes along. But for the time being, he’s completely in love. “Who’s she?”
He’s not actually in love. Jonghyun just thinks he’s being facetious. Because, while a lot of people really do like Taemin, the freshman has a habit of picking those who don’t.
Taemin bats his eyelashes at the back of her head and picks up his fork yet again to pillage the lump of Salisbury steak he’s gotten. Jonghyun’s still picking through his apple pie. “She’s in my bio lab. I think she’s into it.”
Meaning, not at all. What an asshole. “Is she, now?”
“She makes insane amounts of eye contact. I’m pretty sure it’s just with me. That’s like, the key body language signal of attraction.”
“Body language isn’t scientific law, Mr. Science Major.”
Taemin snorts. He doesn’t appreciate Jonghyun’s snark. “Whatever. I just wanted to call attention to my new Thing.”
He’s trying to stifle the little voice deep down with a pillow - the one that’s telling him to slap Taemin in the face with reality or kiss his face. Jonghyun’s doing his best to asphyxiate the little demon, he really is. “All right, man. Now shut up and eat your mushrooms or something.”
shut up shut up shut up
“You disgust me,” he says, giving an indignant pout.
Maybe Jonghyun should asphyxiate Taemin.
Maybe Jonghyun will be Taemin’s Thing one day.
---
Jonghyun first wakes up to the rustling of the sheets on his bed.
His first thought is, impossible, because Jinki’s out for the night studying and wouldn’t climb into bed with him. Also, he locks the door when Jinki’s out. Which means that no one should be climbing into bed with him. At all.
His second thought is ohhhhh fuck.
He shoots up to a sitting position like a bullet and ends up smacking foreheads with a lanky brunet. Specifically, the one that makes his life hell. Taemin. “What the fuck, man?”
That should be his line. “No, you-“ Jonghyun doesn’t have the time to think of a comeback, especially when he realizes he’s mostly naked. He doesn’t like to sleep in very many layers, but Taemin doesn’t seem to care. He just groans or moans in pain, gives a little huff, and wiggles his way into Jonghyun’s twin XL. Jonghyun lies back down and nurses the pulsing knot forming on his forehead. “What?”
He shouldn’t be taking note of the way Taemin’s basically his little spoon right now. Which is also kind of awkward because Taemin’s a good three inches taller than him and slightly maybe more broad since he hasn’t had the time to work out recently. What if he gets a boner? This is a bad situation. “I’ve been sexiled.”
“Wait, what?”
“Jongin finally got in his TA’s pants. Some guy with weirdly large eyes, the one he’s always talking about. Anyway, I walk in from my stint at the library actually writing a paper for once and my roommate’s fucking this dude and told me to leave so I came here. I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”
Oh. Well.
Jonghyun’s a bit flattered Taemin chose here. It technically is the only place that Taemin could probably go (well, he could go to Minho and Kibum’s but that one could be a little awkward), but he’s still uselessly happy. This is dumb. Feelings are dumb. He hates the fluttery feeling he gets whenever he thinks about Taemin’s dumb fairy face.
This brings up the question of reciprocity, though. But that’s one Jonghyun should mull over when Taemin’s ass isn’t precariously near his junk. And speaking of, Taemin’s readjusting his position and he probably didn’t mean to but he totally just grinded on Jonghyun.
Whoop, there it is.
---
If there’s one important thing to note about the couches in the student center, it’s that the middle cushion is the best. All the couches in the area are kind of L-shaped, and the middle cushion gives you enough space to burrow into the crook of the L and sit criss-cross. It’s probably the most comfortable and spacious seat ever.
Which is why Jonghyun and Taemin are constantly fighting over it. To the death.
Jonghyun wheels around the corner first, fast-walking as quickly as his legs can take him, backpack at the ready to slingshot off and onto the couch to claim the desired spot. Taemin jets around him, though, pushing him a bit to throw off his balance and buy some time. The weasel beelines for the middle seat and pounces, jumps on the cushion so fast and so hard it makes the two people on the adjacent couch jolt in surprise.
“Haha, fuck you.” Typical.
Taemin sticks out his tongue in a playful manner, wiggling down into his spot. Jonghyun wrinkles up his nose and throws his stuff down to Taemin’s right. “You’re a sore loser,” Taemin comments, and Jonghyun doesn’t grace him with a response. He should probably care more about his upcoming sociology test than Taemin’s petty taunts.
He should care more about his homework than the other boy’s physical features. “Before you sit down, can you get me a chocolate milk from the café pleeeaaase?” Jonghyun just stares at him, long and hard, and Taemin bats his lashes. He’s too damn cute.
“Seriously?”
It’s not like it’s a far walk (it’s literally inside the student center), or that it takes too much out of his wallet (it’s ninety-nine cents). It’s more a factor of frustration than anything else. “Yes, please,” Taemin sends back, and starts digging out books.
Sometimes he wonders if Taemin’s simply exploiting him for his money and experience and kickass advice. Jonghyun does it, though; he grabs himself a large cappuccino and gets Taemin his milk and orders a large cheesy bread for them to split. Taemin has dance after this; he needs sustenance. Afterwards, Jonghyun pulls out his book and pretends like the other isn’t there, much to Taemin’s dismay. Whatever - the freshman has stuff he should be doing, too.
Halfway into the chapter he’s supposed to be reading, Jonghyun notices that Taemin sits up a bit straighter, goes kind of pale, calls to attention. It’s noticeable to the point that it makes Jonghyun look in the direction that he’s staring in, and when he does, he sees…
A handful of hipsters, a blonde, and Jinki. Jonghyun’s roommate is jamming out on his headphones reading a text or something when he looks up and sees them, waves and walks on. He’s probably going to the tech center; Jonghyun smiles and waves back, but Taemin blinks and keeps staring. At Jinki. “Where was he going?” The boy asked him, and Jonghyun just shrugged.
“Probably going to work on a project or study or visit Kibum. Why? What’s up with you?”
Taemin doesn’t take his eyes off the spot where the other junior disappeared. “Promise you won’t tell anyone? Not even Minho.”
Okay, this is weird. “I- uh, when do I ever? I’m like the best secret keeper since…”
The dark-haired freshman doesn’t let him continue, instead interrupts him in the middle of the trail he’s leaving with his silence. “Just promise.”
“I promise.”
“I think I may be in love with Jinki. This time for real, real.”
Oh, oh no.
He shouldn’t be feeling this insane amount of anger well up in his chest. Holy fuck. Jonghyun remembers the question Taemin asked him the other day; “have you ever liked someone so much that it makes you hate them?”
And the answer is yes but still partially no, because god damn it, he really likes Taemin, but really hates the way he can’t go a day without seeing his face. Jonghyun hates the way he’s no longer used to being alone, hates the way Taemin makes him feel dizzy. He hates the feelings he has and he hates himself right now for feeling so betrayed when Taemin really doesn’t owe him anything.
He’s jealous of Jinki and Jinki literally has done nothing. He hates being jealous of Jinki. He hates that he feels sick to his stomach, pained in his chest.
He hates himself for feeling these things, to be honest. Hates that the fact that Taemin’s picked someone he’s actually friends with, someone he’s actually close to as his Thing. It just makes it more real. It makes it that much easier for Taemin to actually fall for Jinki and hell, even though the elder’s had his eyes set on Kibum for some time, what’s stopping him from looking at that obnoxiously attractive face and caving?
He’s starting to hate Taemin for making him feel this way, for decidedly not returning the sentiment and initiating anything between them.
But then he realizes that’s horse shit and bites back his pride, smiles along with the stupid meme Taemin’s using to divert the topic that he’s missed half of because of this damned introspection.
---
Apparently, Taemin started liking Jinki the day he spent the night in Jonghyun’s bed. Jinki came back around three in the morning, a good hour-ish after Taemin came in. Jonghyun had fallen back asleep, miraculously, but Taemin woke up when Jinki clicked the door shut. He’d (mostly) shut his eyes quickly, though, to make it seem like he was out, and Jinki had come over, picked up a blanket that had fallen off and whispered good night. His sweetness or whatever-the-fuck was what drew him in, and Taemin spent the rest of the night thinking about how considerate and giving he was, as well as how handsome, and the fact that he knew he was handsome, etc.
“It was honestly fated,” he explained. Jonghyun had wanted to puke. The funny thing is that Taemin would have never said he liked Jinki before that night. They were pretty good friends then, too. He can’t identify what it was in Taemin’s mind that made the switch for him. Taemin can’t really, either.
It almost feels unfair. It wasn’t at all how Jonghyun fell for Taemin. And if he could pull that with Jinki, then why couldn’t Taemin flip that switch for Jonghyun the next time he buys him something or lets him in his bed? That’s kind. That’s generous.
God damn it, they’ve even kissed before. Screw Sexy Jenga.
But Jonghyun fell for Taemin in a rush; he’d seen the freshman wandering about during orientation week and thought he was cute almost immediately, but the first time they met that night when Taemin was drunk, Jonghyun hadn’t known how to deal with himself. Taemin looked gorgeous with his glassy eyes and mussed hair that fell right into those eyes and when he bit his lip it sent shivers down his spine. He was hooked on his looks and then when Taemin clung to him it pushed him over the edge. He liked him. End of story. Instant attraction.
And Jonghyun had thought Taemin was into him, too - what with the “you’re… you’re not m’ roommate. But you’re cute. Like a button. Mini-human. I like your chest, can I sleep on it?” But, apparently not. Also, let the record show that Jonghyun is a normal sized human being.
But the way he’s been talking about Jinki the past few days has been driving Jonghyun insane. The way he’s been spending more time in Jonghyun’s room has been messing with him, too, because Jonghyun knows it’s all for the elder junior and Taemin really is just using him as Jinki’s roommate. And the worst part of this? Jonghyun keeps waiting for him to point someone new out to him in the cafeteria, because Taemin never stays on mark for two long. But weeks have gone by and he’s still at it, still watching for Jinki in the periphery of his vision and tweeting things he know Jinki will like just to get a conversation started.
And it’s awful.
“Will you please, please, please help me out with this?”
Never mind. This may actually be the worst part of this debacle - the fact that Taemin is coming to him for all his advising needs. “Taemin-“
He groans, shuts Jonghyun’s door and jumps up on his bed. From Jonghyun’s position at his desk he also groans, slips closed his composition book. Taemin can’t see him writing about sad things right now. “Jonghyun, I know Jinki and I are already friends and stuff, but that doesn’t help me at all. I really mostly only talk to you, anyway, so yeah. I need help.”
“What about the group text?” Jonghyun asks, grabbing a water bottle from the box on his floor. “You seem to talk to him fine in the group text.”
Taemin sends him a glare. “It’s not the same.”
At a certain point, he has to cave. Jonghyun’s a weak guy when it comes to Taemin and giving him what he wants (even if what Taemin wants is to be dating his roommate). “Okay, dude, fine. What do you need to know?”
Taemin grins and Jonghyun’s stomach grows heavier with dread. It might not even happen, to be honest. That’s a horrible thought but it’s the only life raft he has in this pit of jealousy. But Jinki has been doing circles around Kibum the same way Jonghyun’s been crushing on Taem and that would probably impede Taemin’s attempts. Jinki’s nice, though. What if he tried it out just for the sake of their friendship? No, Jinki’s nice. He’d probably explain why they couldn’t be together and then talk about how it’s not Taemin, it’s him, and he wouldn’t want to put Taemin through a relationship in which one member was more invested than the other.
Yeah. Okay. “Just… you know Jinki incredibly well, yeah? How should I approach him about this? Should I outright confess? How, keeping him in mind, should I go about that? I really just don’t want to ruin our friendship or fuck up the squad.”
“I feel like this is a test,” Jonghyun wrinkles up his nose, tries to start thinking about what Taemin’s asked of him. He hates being the one who has to do this. “Okay, well, Jinki’s a pretty simple guy. He’s charming and playful but he’s also really serious about like doing his work and he’s really protective of the people he cares about. With Jinki, you’re going to have to be the one sharing your feelings and prompting him to share him, because he keeps everything bottled up.
“That being said, he’s kind. You could literally approach him any way and him be accepting of your feelings; he’s fond of you as a friend. I guess you should probably tell him what you feel if you feel strongly for him. Just, I don’t know, be like ‘hey okay so I respect and value our friendship, which is why I wanted to talk to you about-“
“What are you guys talking about?” Jinki enters the room with a small smile, dimples flaring, his scruffy brown hair showing the signs of a recent tousle. Jonghyun won’t call attention to that, now. Taemin goes blank, much like Jonghyun feels when he’s handed tests.
He should probably make this situation seem less dubious. “Not much, man. Just describing the latest season of Parks and Rec. to Taemin. He has yet to watch it.”
Jinki’s eyebrows rise almost dramatically. He loves that show. They watch it together. “What? You’re serious-“
“Nice Sperry’s.”
Jonghyun looks to Taemin with a confused expression. Taemin’s eyes are fixated on Jinki’s feet as if he knows he has truly fucked up. Jinki just kind of laughs. “I… thanks, man.”
---
“Will you help me bake a weed cake?”
Jonghyun stops dead in his tracks. He was en route to the laundry room when a head pokes out of a door and springs the question on him. Ah yes, it’s Taemin’s door. Because Taemin lives there. It’s Taemin’s room. Oops. “Wait, what? Say that again?”
Okay, so maybe Jonghyun’s been trying to avoid Taemin a little bit to avoid the Jinki coaching sessions. He hasn’t actually been very successful to be quite honest. He’s weak. He caves after the phone sends him a reminder buzz. “A weed cake. With like, cannabis oil. I got some from my roommate’s friends with benefits dude.”
“Dude.” Well, if Jonghyun was going to do something like this with anyone, he’d want it to be the chem. major. “I don’t… can’t people like, smell it? Where would we bake it?”
“Our floor’s kitchen. You can monitor your laundry while we bake it, I have all the ingredients~”
“Is this wise? I’m an RA.”
“Which means we won’t be getting in trouble. Come on, we can put m&m’s in the batter.”
Fuck. Fuck, that’s a good offer. “Okay, I’m game.”
The grin lighting Taemin’s face is blinding, pure sunshine. It makes Jonghyun smile, too, thrum with excitement because, okay, yeah. This will actually be kind of fun maybe if they don’t get in trouble. And the fact that Jonghyun is the floor RA is actually kind of protecting them. Oh man. “I’ll buy the candy. Oh man this is going to be the greatest thing in the world, you don’t even know.”
No talk of Jinki yet. That’s good. Jonghyun laughs and propels himself down the hallway after his turbulent friend, goes a little past him to the laundry room and gets his stuff going. He leaves his thing of detergent and basket by his machine and pokes his head back in where Taemin’s setting out all the ingredients. There’s money set out by the vending machine. “Plop that shit in and push D6. We need two bags.”
Jonghyun obliges, has to shake the old machine just a bit in order for it to actually give him the m&m’s. Taemin’s greasing down a decent-sized circular cake mold and there’s a container of pungent oil set out with the few eggs he probably borrowed from the community fridge. Jonghyun probably shouldn’t trust Taemin with cooking, to be honest. “What next, captain?”
“Can you… find a bowl? I don’t know how this stuff works.” Yes, he definitely shouldn’t be trusted. Taemin starts poking around in the smaller drawers for what is probably a whisk or spoon or something. He pulls out a thing of measuring cups. “Do you think these are sanitary?”
“You should wash them to be safe.”
The younger nods, finding this reasonable. No one really knows where the community supplies have been. Jonghyun hands over a reasonable-looking mixing bowl to be cleaned. “Wanna put on some tunes? Also, I hope you weren’t doing anything important. And if you were, I’m sorry if I pulled you away. Though I know you would have rather been here with my cute butt.”
Taemin winks and kicks back a leg to add to the dramatic flare he’s projecting. Jonghyun snorts. “Definitely. But nah, wasn’t doing anything, really, just fucking around with Delores.” His guitar. That’s his guitar. “I should be starting to study for things or work on my final projects and papers. It’s crazy how fast this semester has gone by.”
“I don’t feel like doing anything, though, that’s my issue.”
Jonghyun starts them up with his indie playlist. Taemin rips open the pack of m&m’s only to take one for himself, then laughs and actually gets to baking. Jonghyun’s relieved when the eggs he breaks aren’t like, rotten. “Okay, measure out the amount of oil that the box says, and I’ll get the water. Also, do you have ‘Bohemian Rhapsody?’”
Jonghyun takes the oil and wrinkles up his nose at it, but starts pouring, anyway. “Yeah. If you get a hold of my phone, just search it.”
“Oh hell yes. We’re singing this loudly.” Taemin looks like he’s the happiest person in the world right now. He pours in water and all the candy scrappily then races over and inputs the password, starts scrolling. Jonghyun pours in the oil, too, and starts mixing. They’re probably doing this wrong. The colors of the candy shells are starting to run. “Is this the real life?”
Taemin is the one who’s always prompting these dramatic duets. Usually it’s when one of them is down about something and it’s something motivational or Kanye West. And then he starts dancing around like a dead fish (even though he’s actually an amazing dancer). “Or is this just fantasy?”
Taemin’s on scholarship, actually, for participation in dance ensemble. Their school’s fairly renown for their arts programs, to be honest - their whole group is a part of the art program, too. Jinki and Kibum are on theater scholarship, Jonghyun’s on music scholarship and majoring in it, and Minho’s majoring in film. But Taemin, he’s probably the most highly qualified dead fish in their school.
They laugh through “Bohemian Rhapsody” because Taemin tries his hand at breakdancing at inopportune times. But then again, they’re usually laughing. Anyway, by the time they have the weird-looking cake batter spooned into the pan, the song’s over and Jonghyun’s laundry is dinging. All that’s left is the baking.
They slide to the floor and set a timer. This is nice.
“Do you think Jinki’d want a piece? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him high. This stuff will be killer.”
Okay, it was nice. “Maybe.”
Jonghyun can’t help but count down the days until Taemin’s fixation with Jinki is over and done with.
---
“Let’s get fucked, boys. It’s the last party before finals week. Taemin, you’re about to experience hell. Let loose.”
At their university, the biggest clusterfuck parties (not even the best or the most fun, just the most sloppy, drunken, etc.) happen at the beginning and the end of the semesters.
And, here they are, all five members of the squad gathered in Minho and Kibum’s room to carry on that tradition on a lively Saturday night. They can hear people walking by in the halls of the dorm and there’s music playing on the first floor, which, in their dorm for the “party guys” is the hotspot of activity. On these nights, the first floor RA is basically paid to not give a fuck, and everyone just kind of crams in the rooms and dances on furniture and forgets about their problems.
Minho and Kibum live on the second floor, so there’s only a floor between them and not caring. But there’s a whole lot of illegal substances (well, only kind of, seeing as Jonghyun and Jinki are both twenty-one) to go, still.
Kibum and Jinki are pouring shots in solo cups, the scent of Kibum’s dreaded cranberry vodka permeating the room. It’s honestly disgusting without a chaser, but the more you have, the less you care. Kibum’s a lightweight but he’s already down four shots and Jinki’s nursing eight. Jonghyun’s working up the courage that he doesn’t exactly have yet - he doesn’t really like drinking that much as he’s also a lightweight (much more than Kibum, as he doesn’t have the same resistance built up). But he’s promised them all that tonight he’ll be taking part, especially since he’s not on duty tonight.
Kibum and Jinki entwine their arms and giggle all the way through a lovers’ shot, all the while Taemin and Minho are splitting their second bowl out the window. It’s a good thing Taemin’s not watching - the two are being really flirtatious, to be honest, and just thinking about the freshman being slapped with reality is making him want to drink more and more. He can see the effects in both of them, though - Minho’s eyes are hazy and he’s moving like each second for him is lasting an eternity. Taemin looks a bit different, a bit more giggly, because he’s taken a few shots with it. Cross-faded Taemin is precarious and slightly dangerous Taemin. He once tried to hop from Jonghyun’s window to the fire escape.
Okay, yeah. He really needs something to quell his anxiety. “Guys, give me something to down. I just want to get it over with.”
He shouldn’t trust the catlike smirk on Kibum’s face. But the bottle starts draining into a new cup and it’s rising above the single shot mark. He needs one night, just one, where he doesn’t have to care so much. Minho leans out the window a bit in order to empty the ashes and then closes it at the same time Kibum stops pouring. “That’s probably like, five. I’ll give you ten bucks if you can chug the whole thing.”
He’ll probably puke. This piques Taemin’s interest, though, and the two leggy brunets make their way over. “Seriously?”
“Do it.”
It’s ten. If he pukes, he’ll demand twenty. “Okay,” he puts the cup to his lips and lets the liquid rush down and burn him. His body shudders and his tongue rejects it, but he keeps going as per the cheers from his guys. “Fuck, that’s disgusting. Fuck, sprite. Taemin, hand me a sprite.”
“That’ll hit you fast. Shall we start our night?” Jinki leans back against Kibum’s bedframe with a Cheshire grin. Taemin’s cheeks flush.
They head down then without much talk about it, rooms all unlocked and IDs in their pockets. Jonghyun doesn’t feel much yet but they’re right, it won’t take very long at all. And in the meantime, Taemin’s hopeless puppy expression and the stifling claustrophobia of the rooms will probably have him a nervous, dismal wreck.
Okay, when sweat is precipitating from the walls and ceiling, that’s when you know you should stop.
When did Taemin get on that table?
Who the heck is dancing on him oh no-
It’s hitting him.
He doesn’t know how long they’re in the room, but by the time it goes from “Thrift Shop” to “Anaconda,” Jonghyun’s making a break for it. He can tell the guys are following, because someone grabs his sleeve but doesn’t tug him bag, merely follows. “Air,” he explains. “I need air.”
They’re all swaying, no one’s walking in straight lines tonight. They make it to the small pavilion across from the dorm, and Minho immediately slumps into a chair and looks like he’s being weighted down. Jonghyun picks standing, and Kibum picks Jinki’s lap, which picks the other chair. Taemin doesn’t look like he likes this. “We should do something else now.” Minho doesn’t respond and they all fall into silence save for the small amount of music trailing from Taemin’s phone, because when he’s intoxicated he doesn’t like quiet.
“We all need air or something.”
“I think we went a bit overboard,” Jinki laughs, and it’s like his voice is emitting multiple conflicting frequencies.
Kibum smiles at him. “Maybe you did.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Taemin tries to toss his own two cents in as he does a lot, but he’s left hanging when no one responds. His ears are red. Jonghyun wants to kiss him.
Taemin wants to kiss Jinki.
Jinki wants to kiss Kibum, which is evident when they close the distance between themselves, crush their mouths together. Minho chokes in mock disgust and Kibum bites down pretty hard on Jinki’s lip, causing the elder to moan a bit.
Yeah, now it’s all gone to shit.
Jonghyun feels like he’s weaving in and out of his own body. Taemin’s there, giggling, because his being cross-faded isn’t helping the fact that something horrible is happening for the boy. And Jonghyun feels awful, really, because Taemin had wanted to try and get with Jinki here, but here the other junior is, lips locked with a certain raven-haired sophomore.
Taemin looks like he can’t process what’s going on, but Jonghyun knows he’s not that far gone, and it makes his heart hurt. Taemin just laughs. Minho looks at him in confusion. Jonghyun feels like the outside wind is going to push him over. “Let’s go do something,” Taemin’s words are lazy and tinted with defeat. “Jonghyun, let’s go dance.”
Yes, he’s upset. Jonghyun feels those five shots so vibrantly again, and it makes him upset, because he’d rather Taemin not be upset about someone at all. If Taemin liked him, he wouldn’t be upset about anything ever because Jonghyun wouldn’t let that happen. Wait, dancing? “Where?” The dorm’s bottom floor is going hard but Jonghyun can’t deal with that again, doesn’t want to dance on top of a table with people he can’t-
Taemin grabs his hand before he or Minho can object, pulls him away before Jinki or Kibum can notice. “I have a key to the arts building. Let’s go dance.”
He’s speaking surprisingly clearly and Jonghyun just kind of has to follow, because he doesn’t know what else he’d do. But he feels almost miserable right now. Taemin’s miserable, too. He wants to make him happy but he can’t, he’s not Jinki. “Is that allowed?”
“Dance scholarship students are given keys so they can practice, and some students choreograph for ensemble, so…” Taemin must have sobered up a bit at the sight of Jinki and Kibum. If anything, that made Jonghyun’s head even fuzzier. “It’s allowed. I’m ‘practicing,’ but honestly I come in here a lot to blow off… blow um, what’s the…”
“Steam.” This makes sense. Taemin disappears when they get into arguments or when he gets upset, only to reappear later with three times the sweat on his body. “That’s cool.”
Taemin huffs, quickens his pace. It’s freezing, and it’s only now starting to seep into Jonghyun’s mind that his fingers are numb. “I need to kick something. This is so stupid. Why am I even upset?”
That’s how Jonghyun feels.
“They’ve probably been talking for a while… I’m a fucking idiot.”
They get inside the building and Taemin doesn’t bother with the lights until they’re back at the practice room. Then he blares them, bee-lines for the stereo. He hooks up his phone before Jonghyun can even take a deep breath, pushes play on what Jonghyun knows will be his slightly angsty, in-your-face playlist. Jonghyun can feel the music hit him in the chest and he just watches as Taemin starts to pace in front of the large mirrors, looking small and thin in his loose thermal. Jonghyun sees himself and he, too, looks small. He’s pitiful, really.
Cherub, he’s playing Cherub. Jonghyun can see him pulsing with the beats, muscles flexing taut against his skin as he moves jerkily yet fluidly. “I love this place, really. Even just laying on the floor and blasting music helps. And no one can complain because it’s a fucking dance studio.”
Beat, beat. Jonghyun doesn’t know what he’s doing. “Come join me.”
Beat. Jonghyun doesn’t know how to respond. He shrugs off hit own jacket and dumps his baseball cap, starts moving the hips he really doesn’t have. “God, this night sucks. I hate being this angry at nothing.”
Beat, beat, beat. “What’s wrong? Oh my god Jong-“
This is the floor. His fingers are numb and he’s suddenly overcome with the fact that he hurts, and everything is still painfully slow-paced and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, this is so stupid, why is he so miserable?
“Jonghyun, no, please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I love you, it’s okay, please.”
This is so pointless.
---
After the festivities of the previous night, the “squad” saw some changes. Large ones. The primary being - Jinki and Kibum officially labeled their relationship, leaving no room for Taemin’s crush. Taemin had been pretty wounded by that the morning after. Jonghyun halted that text conversation before it could get to him.
The other change was that of Jonghyun’s take on just about everything. And that came about with the help of Minho.
“I need to get over him.”
Minho looks at him with those big, mushy eyes and Jonghyun is taken back to the time wherein Minho was his best bud, before he started telling his secrets to Changmin and before Jonghyun turned to Taemin. Minho’s a surprisingly great moral council. “I agree. I mean, even if he were to reciprocate your feelings, do you actually think Taemin would be right for-“
“Yes.” A beat. God damn it, Jonghyun. “Okay, that’s beside the point. The point is that, despite our insane compatibility, he just doesn’t seem to be attracted to me in a romantic sense. Maybe a little sexual, because he’s hit on me before and I’m pretty sure he’s watched me change clothes a few times, but still. The point is that I’m never really going to be Taemin’s person, so I need to get over him.”
Minho shakes his head, props his elbows up on the cafeteria table and shoves his tray to the side. “I don’t think that’s exactly it. Don’t sound so dejected - you may not be what he idealized Jinki to be, but that doesn’t mean you’re not his person. You’re literally each others’ everything.”
That hurt. That shouldn’t have hurt. “I need to get over him.”
“I think you should tell him how you feel.”
Before Jonghyun can send Minho an incredulous look that lets him know that that’s exactly the opposite of what I’m saying, asshole, Minho silences him with a cleared throat and an obvious glance toward the entrance of the dining area. When Jonghyun cranes his head around to look he notices a hampered Taemin making his way through with his own tray, noting them almost immediately.
“What’s up, guys?”
Minho smiles a bit and Jonghyun can’t speak, can’t even tell him it’s nothing because it isn’t and he still feels like puking at the thought of talking about his feelings to the younger.
---
Jonghyun let finals be his excuse for not being available to Taemin this time.
He’s just been… way too down. He’s gone from angry to sad to apathetic, picked on himself and spent too many nights wrought with insomnia. To be honest, he’s counting down the days until break when he can effectively actually distance himself.
Jonghyun feels way too guilty.
Minho thinks he should confess but Jonghyun doesn’t want to say jack shit, doesn’t want to open his mouth and watch the dregs of their recently-neglected friendship go down the drain.
Taemin thinks he should pick up his phone or answer his door. He’s making that clear by the mass amounts of bored texts he’s sending.
Public Taemin is pestering him and probably wants to eat all of his oreos.
Private Taemin is slipping a great amount of urgency into his messages. Private Taemin is worried about him.
“Have you ever liked someone so much that it makes you hate them?”
He should text back.
“I think I may be in love with Jinki. This time for real, real.”
He should study. For real.
”Jonghyun, no, please don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I love you.”
This is dumb. This is so dumb. Jonghyun closes his book swiftly, plugs in his phone, silences it. He’s going to bed. He has to be up at seven-thirty for his eight-thirty final, after all.
This stupid feeling stuff isn’t worth it.
---
The first time Jonghyun met Taemin, he’d been sloppy and twittering and tender, apologetic, hesitant. That was how Private Taemin manifested that night as he wandered into unknown territory and was searching for a friend.
“What the hell, dude?”
Right now, though, he’s the exact opposite. It’s eight in the morning and Private Taemin’s storming down the center aisle of the cafeteria to Jonghyun’s secluded position in the middle of the back left table. Shouldn’t he… “Shouldn’t you be at dance ensemble right n-“
Taemin yanks the chair across from Jonghyun out and sits down with a very loud smack. He doesn’t even have any food. Just anger. Jonghyun doesn’t like this. He also doesn’t like the fact that it’s thirty minutes before his advanced music theory final and Taemin looks like he wants to talk.
Jonghyun doesn’t want to talk to Taemin.
Jonghyun should face his problems, honestly.
“Shouldn’t you be fucking talking to me? Jesus Christ, Jonghyun, what did I do? Why the hell have you been blowing me off?”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no. “Taemin, it’s not you-“
“Bull shit it’s not me. Please, Jonghyun. I’ve been freaking out for days because you literally have completely ignored me, and only me. I even asked Jinki what was wrong and he said you’d been acting weird, yeah, but you’ve at least talked to him. And I was with Minho the other day and saw you guys had a text convo going even though you’d ignored my last five, and…“ The few people in the cafeteria are looking at them. Taemin’s raised his voice to a very audible level and it’s transmitting to anyone who’s willing to get their daily dose of friend drama. Taemin trails off and looks down to where he’s clenching his fists and Jonghyun doesn’t know what to say, just watches as some of the straight-up anger fades from his eyes and he slips more into that hesitancy from day one.
This right here?
If Taemin liked him, he wouldn’t be upset about anything ever because Jonghyun wouldn’t let that happen.
This isn’t what Jonghyun wanted. In some strange way, he sort of thought that not talking to Taemin wouldn’t actually bother him much, would benefit him in some way. And now that he thinks about that logic he realizes that it’s flawed, stupid. “I’m so sorry, oh my god.” Now he feels like an even bigger piece of shit than before. “Seriously this was all me please don’t think I’m mad at you or you did something wrong, because you didn’t, honestly. I’m sorry.”
“Then what is it, Jonghyun? Please just give me something. I honestly feel like shit right now and I won’t be able to focus on anything until you give me an answer.”
“It’s because I like you.”
Silence. There’s a definite lull in the conversation when Taemin looks at him like he’s growing a second (actually, maybe eighth) head. Jonghyun figures he hasn’t even actually realized what’s been said yet, because there’s a noticeable shift in his expression from deeply confused to… “What?”
Jonghyun is definitely going to fail this next final. He’s literally about to throw up. “I’ve, uh,” may as well tell him. He already said most of it. “Well, I’ve kind of had a thing for you for a really long time, since we first met, and it’s been really easy to just kind of ignore it all and just be your friend but ever since you started liking Jinki, it’s been so hard to just…”
“Say it.”
“Be around you. I’ve been feeling really miserable and I shouldn’t because you don’t owe me those feelings but I just have really liked you and it’s painful and I’m being dumb, I’m so sorry.”
At this point in all the romance movies, the person confessing would stay seated and maybe cry a bit, and the unrequited love would hold them and tell them how they’re valuable and deserve more than them.
Jonghyun, in contrast, books it. He stands up and leaves his tray and all, rushes out the cafeteria with Taemin sputtering behind. They younger grabs his tray and follows, puts it on the rack and makes it out the door by the time Jonghyun has hit the stairs. “Jonghyun!” Yeah, he hears Taemin. But he’s got to go take a test and fail it and die, that’s probably a bit more important than watching his best friend pity him.
He’s made it out the door of the student center and has entered into a bit of a jog. Taemin’s still calling after him, and he’s pretty sure they just passed a very concerned Minho who’s taking his actual morning jog.
“Jonghyun, fucking stop!”
He’s shaking. Jonghyun’s freaking quivering in his boots, terrified because he just did the unthinkable. He ignored his best friend, made him miserable, then proceeded to dump his crush on the freshman right before his morning final. Not to mention he didn’t sleep. Or eat any of the food he was supposed to. He’s basically fucked. “I have to go, Taemin, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything.”
Jonghyun makes a mistake when he turns back to face Taemin, because it slows him down just enough for Taemin to catch up to him and grab his arm. Jonghyun swallows hard and Taemin looks (down) at him with those dumb cute eyes. ”Please don’t apologize. I’m… I should really be the one saying sorry. I should have figured it out and I shouldn’t have told you all about Jinki-“
“But I’m glad you did. I’m happy that you come to me and you shouldn’t be apologizing because you have no obligation to guard my feelings and I honestly just shoved my guts in your face and I’m sorry.”
“Let’s both stop apologizing.”
Taemin seems serious about that one. It’s probably a good idea, too. Jonghyun just nods, and then almost apologizes. “Okay.”
There’s a pause before Taemin’s words catch up to his quick sprint out the door. “And don’t tell me I have no obligation to honor your feelings, oh my god. What the heck, dude? You’re my person. I’m going to watch out for you the same way you’re always doing nice things for me and, you know what?”
“I’m your person?”
“You shouldn’t be sorry that you told me you liked me because I fucking like you, too, you big buttface. God, I hate you sometimes. But not really. I just didn’t think you liked me so I tried to be friends with you and let’s be, real, I’d pick you over Jinki and day. Okay, fuck this.”
There’s another pause and then Taemin’s grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him and literally he just called him a buttface? What??? Why is he- oh.
Holy shit.