Fanfiction: Tables Turned
Title: Tables Turned
Rating: PG
Genre: General/Fluff
Pairing: Ontae
Words: 3672
When Taemin answers the question, “Who is your favourite hyung?” he always hesitates, smiles shyly and states that he cannot choose. This answer is of course, a blatant lie, but the proper one for his idol group. Therefore his hyungs can coo over him and the interviewer can tell Taemin just how adorable he is, like a fluffy little chick or something else horrendously emasculating.
This is one of the rules that they are taught as an idol group, which is to never pick favourites, and if must be, to choose an answer that would offend the least number of people. For example, who is your ideal girl? A foreign celebrity of course, so none of the fans can get jealous over the impossibility of one of them actually dating said ideal girl. What do you think of your company? It’s the greatest place I have ever had the opportunity to work in. (Although really, it’s the only place Taemin has ever worked in.)
The one responsible for making sure their group follows these rules, other than the treacherous glare of their manager, is their leader. So when Jinki stands before them after an interview and says, “Good answers you guys!” all that Taemin can think is you mean good lies right?
Not that Taemin can be entirely cynical, because for the most part their shining group does tell the truth or simply avoids answering a question. The only reason Taemin is bothering to think about this issue now is because an interviewer finally decided to ask the question he never thought of, the question Taemin never realized he would react to.
“So moving on from Taemin,” states the reporter all made up, sitting with a straight back and fantastically plastic looking hair, “Onew, who would you say is your favourite dongsaeng?”
“Hmm…” A soft voice deep in thought, “Haha I guess all of them!”
An expected answer, except to Taemin, it hits him in all the wrong places, as if he had been jabbed with a stick in the sides. This reaction shows, Taemin is certain as he is tight lipped for the rest of the interview, brief smiles scattered throughout. When the group moves out to the van, where Taemin walks two steps behind everyone, Kibum falls behind to pace beside him, a little skip in his step. Ever the observant one that Kibum.
“Yah Taemin, what’s wrong with you?” whispers the sharp witted man, “You’ve been acting like a grump ever since that interview.”
“Ah hyung.” A fake smile that Taemin is sure Kibum is analyzing. “I think I am just tired, you know the same questions day after day.”
“Well we are promoting so we do have to answer these questions you know,” mentions Kibum who shuffles a little too close for Taemin’s comfort. The man with multi-coloured hair suddenly rushes in, pulling down the zipper on Taemin’s hoodie, and he raises a victorious eyebrow when Taemin shows a rare expression of annoyance.
“Or it could be you just miss a certain someone doing this?”
Taemin flushes red, bang spot on, Kibum wins yet again and laughs that annoyingly obnoxious loud laugh. It makes Taemin want to push the older boy, which he does, admittedly without much conscious. It is almost a sick sort of delight Taemin feels when he hears Kibum shriek, tripping forward, nearly head first into the open van doors. Almost as delightful as when he tricks his managers into ordering him two steaks, not noticing he had demolished the first.
What bothers Taemin is when his leader catches the shrieking boy in strong arms and looks at the maknae, blinking and surprised asking, “What are you two doing?”
It’s in the corner of his eye that Taemin catches the evil smirk of his fellow dancer and Kibum pushes himself further into Jinki’s arms, who is oblivious to the situation.
“Oh it’s nothing Jinki hyung,” states Kibum, a glint sparkling in his eyes, “Taemin is just being a teenager. You know that thing with hormones and the like.”
Jinki blinks, and Taemin shrugs, trying to keep his cool although he feels infuriated inside, a fire deep in his belly. The young dancer moves in, squeezing past the pair at the van door and plops beside Minho, who is sitting in the back seat and observing the scene quietly. Taemin wiggles around in his seat, finally finding a comfortable position and closes his eyes.
“I’m just tired hyung,” grumbles the maknae as he feigns sleep.
And Taemin would have honestly gone to sleep, if he did not have to hear Kibum and Jinki giggling about god knows what in the front seat. Grabbing a cushion, Taemin tries to bury his ears in the cotton fabric to block the sounds of laughter to no avail. The youngest member attempts to listen to music through his headphones, which only makes the task of sleeping more difficult.
Finally giving up, Taemin peeks an eye open to see his leader laughing one of those huge laughs where his eyes form tiny crescents with Kibum speaking in an exuberant tone while flailing his arms. It nearly mortifies Taemin when Kibum glances over quickly, catching Taemin’s jealous stare and providing a quick wink. Taemin turns over, regretting he ever looked.
“You could just talk to Jinki hyung.”
The cool stoic voice of truth that Taemin did not want to hear. The young auburn haired man decides to turn to his tall hyung and glare. “I have no idea what you mean,” hisses Taemin, his threatening voice failing miserably as Minho rolls his eyes.
“You should listen to Minho,” whispers another voice, as Taemin jerks away from a poke to his arm. The blonde haired singer grins and turns around with arms hanging over the seat. Jonghyun points his thumb to Kibum sitting beside him quickly and whispers again, “Otherwise you are really going to let this guy get under your skin.”
Taemin could not deny the words of his hyungs because it did feel like something was crawling under his skin, making him itch and shake. However he could not imagine anything worse than actually asking Jinki about something so trivial. Taemin would rather feel his hair stand on end and his body quivering with goosebumps before talking about something so embarrassing.
“There is nothing to talk about,” Taemin says with a huff, which earns a shake of the head from his hyungs.
“Like Kibum said,” slurs the blonde singer, “Its hormones.”
“Teenage hormones,” reaffirms Minho.
Taemin glares, tearing up random tissues from the backseat and throwing balls of paper at Jonghyun and Minho, shouting, “You guys aren’t that much older than me. That makes no sense!”
Soon a play fight breaks out in the backseats with Jonghyun hollering in laughter and Minho clobbering Taemin. A gentle clobber but enough for a few red spots nonetheless. Taemin retaliates by throwing more tissues and random items from the backseat, making their van more of a mess than it possibly is.
The three ignore the stare of their flabbergasted leader, and the grin of an amused Kibum.
“You know he is getting a tongue lashing because of you,” states Kibum as he wipes dry a few dirty glasses, insisting that they hand wash instead of waste water in the machine. Taemin cannot find the will to say anything, and instead helps Kibum by scrubbing away white marks left behind in the cups. Kibum may have talked the talk, but he did not really have the skills to back up his umma character.
In the aftermath of the battle that Taemin, Jonghyun and Minho had, the vehicle had been littered with white paper bits, a cushion torn in half and Jonghyun nursing a bloody nose, droplets staining the seats. The blood was from Jonghyun laughing too hard and hitting his nose with flailing arms on the side of the car, but the means did not matter as he was still injured. For all this commotion, their manager was outraged and currently taking it out on Jinki.
Taemin could not help but feel like shit. It was his fault for starting the mess yet Jinki stepped in, saying that he should have controlled them better. A wince from Taemin as he could still hear their manager shouting just outside their dorm. Taemin could just imagine Jinki apologizing and bowing at that ninety degree angle repeatedly. Guilt crept across his skin and Taemin squirmed uncomfortably.
“Agh it hurts,” moans an injured Jonghyun across the kitchen in the living room. Minho hands him an icepack and the singer gratefully places it over the warm reddened skin on his nose. Jonghyun groans some more and rolls around on the couch, choosing to stare wide eyed at Taemin.
“So do you want us to stay here while you talk to Jinki in the bedroom?” asks the lead singer, unaware that he is stepping on rusty nails with Taemin.
“Why would I need to talk to him?” snaps Taemin, although in his head, he knew that was the plan all along.
“I figured you would want to,” answers Jonghyun, undaunted or perhaps completely ignorant to Taemin’s growing temper. The singer groans again, rolling onto his back and raising a hand to point to the ceiling in a matter of fact way. “My nose is busted because of you, but I’ll let it slide if you talk to Jinki.”
Minho, who was sitting beside Jonghyun, moved to cover the blonde haired man’s mouth but he was already too late.
Taemin lost it, holding his hyung’s collar, Jonghyun choking out a surprised gasp. “So it’s my fault you swung around like an idiot in the car?” asks Taemin sternly, his brows furrowed deeply, “And if anyone deserves anything from me, it’s Jinki hyung, who is probably hurting a thousand more times than you.”
A hand on his wrist, and Taemin freezes, being face to face with the tall youth. Minho shakes his head and gives a slight nod, telling Taemin with his eyes to basically cut it out. Kibum is not far behind, placing a hand on the maknae’s shoulder, but is of course more vocal.
“Look Taemin-ah, whatever’s got you miffed has got you miffed,” explains Kibum, pausing to point at Jonghyun’s head, “But this idiot has nothing to do with it, you know that.”
“Who’s the idio-mffh!”
Fingers pinching together the lips of a very vocal singer. Minho gives an approving stare to Kibum who signals him an aye aye captain with a flick of his free hand, the other one occupied with the idiot. Approaching Taemin, Minho pushes the young man slowly to the bedroom, and not being dense, Taemin knows this is a message for him to go cool some steam.
Willingly Taemin grumbles but enters the room while Minho shuts the door behind him, returning to the other two, who are currently wrestling. Jonghyun is retaliating fiercely to Kibum, disliking being silenced for more than 10 seconds.
“Too bad Jinki hyung isn’t here,” states Jonghyun, wriggling his face away by pushing Kibum’s hands, “He always calms Taemin down-Oomph!”
A cushion finds its way into Jonghyun’s face, who is squished under the pressure. Kibum smiles in victory as he holds both of the singer’s arms captive and leans gently on the cushion.
“Yah!” scolds Kibum, “You keep talking like that and we won’t be able to save you next time!”
Minho rolls his eyes, adding this scenario to his thoughts of why he should not question why fans think they are weird.
Taemin rolls around in his bed, swearing he has done over fifty rotations. The pit in his stomach will just not go away, a heavy weight that makes him want to gag, and it frustrates him to no end. Acting annoyed for so long over something so minor is not like him at all. He is the cute one that always smiles.
Forcing his lips to curve upwards, Taemin presses his cold hands to his cheeks; a hopeless attempt at happiness he knows. The painfully fake joyful expression fades from his face, and Taemin claps his cheeks before burying himself under the sheets. If anything, at least sleep would allow him to escape for a little bit.
Timid knocks on the door, and a creaking open, followed by a soft voice.
“Taemin? Can we talk?”
The maknae stays still, wanting to pretend he was asleep and indeed hearing nothing. No he did not hear Jinki’s voice, no he did not want to know if the leader was all right, and no he did not want to apologize to the man, and yes he did just want to sleep. Complete and utter lies, but Taemin did not care because avoiding Jinki was all he could think about right now.
“Uh are you sleeping?” asks the soft spoken leader, “It’s just that Jonghyun and Kibum said you wanted to talk.”
Taemin would kill those two later.
Its then that Taemin’s breath catches in his throat as he hears the quiet footsteps approach. Resisting the urge to shake, Taemin hushes himself as his eyes flutter shut. He can hear the whisper of sheets beside him and the creak of the neighbouring bed as a weight moves across it. The persistent thudding of his heart is all Taemin can feel and it echoes violently in his ears.
A whisper of his name but Taemin cannot bear to open his eyes. Instead he dies inside with a burning agony as a hand runs through his hair and fingers trace his ever warming cheeks. The young dancer can only take so much, and each gentle caress and the tingle of skin driving him insane. Taemin can feel his eyes clench further, a pout on his lips.
“Aha!” An exclamation of success. “I knew you were awake!”
Caught without a fight and Taemin opens his eyes slowly, trying to look calm but failing as he realizes he is glaring. Jinki does not seem to mind and continues to stroke the auburn strands from Taemin’s eyes, who feels like the embarrassed child he is, buried under a mountain of blankets. Jinki cracks a wide understanding grin and it makes Taemin’s feelings of guilt resurface along with an odd sense of comfort he does not bother to comprehend.
“Are you okay?” Taemin manages to utter through cotton sheets covering half his face.
Jinki laughs a quiet laugh and Taemin feels relief flood through his body as he knows it is genuine, not like the time when Jinki grinned a little too wide after falling on stage. It is these little things that Taemin notices and is scared to not know, when Jinki is happy, when he is hiding something, when he is sad, when he is angry-just anything.
“I’m okay Taemin,” Jinki responds, the smile on his face worthy of dazzling any being. The leader leans back into his bed, cross-legged, a hand reaching up to his neck as he bends and undoes a crick. “It wasn’t so bad. I think manager hyung was just tired today, so he actually apologized to me when he calmed down haha.”
Black eyes peer at Taemin as Jinki takes a moment to pause, and Taemin knows that they are reading him, even better than Kibum likely.
“Just like you were tired?” asks Jinki who does not lose Taemin’s eyesight, “Or maybe not?”
Brushing away Jinki’s hand, Taemin rolls the blankets halfway off himself and sits up, shadowed beneath the bunk bed. His knees clench tightly against his chest as he sits to face his hyung and Taemin huffs a breath, not breaking eye contact but hiding the flush of his cheeks behind skinny knees.
“Who is your favourite dongsaeng?” It’s a short curt question, but Taemin knows it serves its purpose.
“Hmm…” Jinki’s thick eyebrows furrow in response and the young man raises a hand to his chin, contemplating an answer. It is this serious response that Taemin believes makes Jinki a great leader to their group, nonjudgmental and completely sincere for the most part, unless joking around.
“Well Kibum always seems to know when I am hungry and makes me instant noodles,” comments Jinki, causing Taemin’s chest to slowly start dropping to his stomach, “Jonghyun goofs off with me when we wear weird clothes, like when we threw around that giant silver horseshoe thing. Minho let’s me sleep in his lap, cause you know I can never wake up in the morning, and Taemin-”
Taemin waves off Jinki’s reply and crashes back into his sheets, turning away while hugging a stuffed animal to his chest. “I get it,” states Taemin, a sigh rising to his throat, “We are all great dongsaengs.”
“Hey Taemin, that wasn’t fair.” A repetitive pat on his shoulder from Jinki, which Taemin could only ignore for so long. The maknae releases his sigh and begrudgingly turns towards his leader, wanting nothing more but to be left alone and mope with his teenage angst, where Taemin felt angry but not sure exactly why.
Jinki gives a half-hearted grin and lies down on his bed too, his face now level with Taemin, who merely looks towards their toes. Taemin observes silently as Jinki curls an arm under his head comfortably and reaches out the other arm to stroke auburn hair again. Taemin normally hates to be touched so much, but for some reason he finds it calming from Jinki, not that he would ever admit it, and not that Jinki did not already know. That was probably why whenever Taemin was angry, Kibum and Jonghyun would nag with whiny voices to Jinki to do something about it.
“Well can you tell me who your favourite hyung is?”
Taemin’s body stiffens, and he almost resents Jinki for turning his own question against him, but the sincere glance of his hyung dissipates any shred of ill thoughts the maknae may have had. Jinki smiles again, and Taemin can hear everything all at once, their steady breaths, the shuffle of legs over cotton sheets, the traffic of Seoul in the distance and the soft whispers of his hyungs in the other room.
Raising his hand, Taemin lowers each finger starting from his pinky as he begins his list.
“Kibum hyung makes my cereal in the morning, remembering to put more milk in my bowl since I like it better,” states the young dancer smoothly in thought, “Jonghyun hyung helps me practice my singing even if I have sung the same song thousands of times, and Minho hyung reads manga with me in the afternoon. Jinki hyung-”
And right on cue, Taemin silences as Jinki interrupts, a peaceful expression on his face.
“We are all great hyungs right?” But before Taemin can respond, Jinki continues, withdrawing his own hand that was resting on Taemin’s shoulder and placing it between them as he folds his fingers over one at a time with a new list.
“Taemin fights Kibum in the morning to give me my blanket back so that I can sleep for ten more minutes,” commented the tofu dubbed leader, “He laughs at my jokes even when Jonghyun does not think they are funny anymore, and he gives me excuses to run away and help him with homework when Minho is asking me to play-in other words lose-another mini soccer match. Best of all however, Taemin talks to me about anything and everything even when he is grumpy.”
The most foolish of grins, smiling eyes, and a grand laugh as the soft spoken man closes his hand into a fist giving the classic hwaiting motion. Taemin flushes a deep shade of red and is sure that the world can hear the beating of his chest as he feels a combination of embarrassment and shame, like watching a teenage girl confess her heart’s desires on the television through the latest drama.
“Although maybe it’s not grumpy?”
Caught off guard by Jinki’s speech, Taemin raises an eyebrow at the interruption to his happy fluffy moment of thought.
“Maybe…” Jinki cracks a smirk. “Maybe its hormones?”
A sudden outcry and Jinki winces and groans in mock pain as he is hit repeatedly by a pig neck cushion. Yet not one to back down entirely, Taemin’s brown eyes widen as Jinki fights back, tackling him back into his bed. The pair roll around, a mess of lanky limbs and all until they fall back into Taemin’s bed huffing and puffing between fits of laughter.
Jinki’s voice quiets slowly and Taemin follows suit, their faces mere inches apart.
“I’m sorry I lied,” apologizes Jinki still hiccupping slightly for air, “You’re my favourite dongsaeng.”
Taemin grins from ear to ear and curls his toes into the mattress to push his head up as he kisses Jinki’s eyelids. It amuses the dancer to no end as his tofu leader blushes with pink cheeks, a small “o” on his lips and embarrassed panic written all over his face. Taemin shakes his head, and raises a hand to stroke through short brown locks.
“Sorry I lied,” explains the maknae, “You’re my favourite hyung too.”
From this, Taemin appears to be successful at calming Jinki down and he grabs the blankets at their feet to cover them before linking his hands with his hyung. A soft smile and Taemin dares to snuggle a little closer to Jinki, just like he does when Jinki rolls into his bed in the night, except this time Jinki is entirely conscious.
“Should we take a nap?” asks the dancer.
Pretty much dumbfounded, Jinki nods, but this is acceptable enough to Taemin, who closes his eyes, and turns his head into Jinki’s chest. It should feel uncomfortable, with their bony limbs intertwined the way they were, but Taemin could not help but smile, engulfed by the warmth that radiated from the older man, who did anything but retreat and instead drew closer.
“I don’t remember my hormones being like this when I was your age.”
“Shut up or the hormones will really kick in.”
“Sorry!”
-----
Um tried something slightly different with my writing? Did anyone even notice? Maybe it got worse or better. I'm not sure. XP Anyway thanks for reading!
Rating: PG
Genre: General/Fluff
Pairing: Ontae
Words: 3672
When Taemin answers the question, “Who is your favourite hyung?” he always hesitates, smiles shyly and states that he cannot choose. This answer is of course, a blatant lie, but the proper one for his idol group. Therefore his hyungs can coo over him and the interviewer can tell Taemin just how adorable he is, like a fluffy little chick or something else horrendously emasculating.
This is one of the rules that they are taught as an idol group, which is to never pick favourites, and if must be, to choose an answer that would offend the least number of people. For example, who is your ideal girl? A foreign celebrity of course, so none of the fans can get jealous over the impossibility of one of them actually dating said ideal girl. What do you think of your company? It’s the greatest place I have ever had the opportunity to work in. (Although really, it’s the only place Taemin has ever worked in.)
The one responsible for making sure their group follows these rules, other than the treacherous glare of their manager, is their leader. So when Jinki stands before them after an interview and says, “Good answers you guys!” all that Taemin can think is you mean good lies right?
Not that Taemin can be entirely cynical, because for the most part their shining group does tell the truth or simply avoids answering a question. The only reason Taemin is bothering to think about this issue now is because an interviewer finally decided to ask the question he never thought of, the question Taemin never realized he would react to.
“So moving on from Taemin,” states the reporter all made up, sitting with a straight back and fantastically plastic looking hair, “Onew, who would you say is your favourite dongsaeng?”
“Hmm…” A soft voice deep in thought, “Haha I guess all of them!”
An expected answer, except to Taemin, it hits him in all the wrong places, as if he had been jabbed with a stick in the sides. This reaction shows, Taemin is certain as he is tight lipped for the rest of the interview, brief smiles scattered throughout. When the group moves out to the van, where Taemin walks two steps behind everyone, Kibum falls behind to pace beside him, a little skip in his step. Ever the observant one that Kibum.
“Yah Taemin, what’s wrong with you?” whispers the sharp witted man, “You’ve been acting like a grump ever since that interview.”
“Ah hyung.” A fake smile that Taemin is sure Kibum is analyzing. “I think I am just tired, you know the same questions day after day.”
“Well we are promoting so we do have to answer these questions you know,” mentions Kibum who shuffles a little too close for Taemin’s comfort. The man with multi-coloured hair suddenly rushes in, pulling down the zipper on Taemin’s hoodie, and he raises a victorious eyebrow when Taemin shows a rare expression of annoyance.
“Or it could be you just miss a certain someone doing this?”
Taemin flushes red, bang spot on, Kibum wins yet again and laughs that annoyingly obnoxious loud laugh. It makes Taemin want to push the older boy, which he does, admittedly without much conscious. It is almost a sick sort of delight Taemin feels when he hears Kibum shriek, tripping forward, nearly head first into the open van doors. Almost as delightful as when he tricks his managers into ordering him two steaks, not noticing he had demolished the first.
What bothers Taemin is when his leader catches the shrieking boy in strong arms and looks at the maknae, blinking and surprised asking, “What are you two doing?”
It’s in the corner of his eye that Taemin catches the evil smirk of his fellow dancer and Kibum pushes himself further into Jinki’s arms, who is oblivious to the situation.
“Oh it’s nothing Jinki hyung,” states Kibum, a glint sparkling in his eyes, “Taemin is just being a teenager. You know that thing with hormones and the like.”
Jinki blinks, and Taemin shrugs, trying to keep his cool although he feels infuriated inside, a fire deep in his belly. The young dancer moves in, squeezing past the pair at the van door and plops beside Minho, who is sitting in the back seat and observing the scene quietly. Taemin wiggles around in his seat, finally finding a comfortable position and closes his eyes.
“I’m just tired hyung,” grumbles the maknae as he feigns sleep.
And Taemin would have honestly gone to sleep, if he did not have to hear Kibum and Jinki giggling about god knows what in the front seat. Grabbing a cushion, Taemin tries to bury his ears in the cotton fabric to block the sounds of laughter to no avail. The youngest member attempts to listen to music through his headphones, which only makes the task of sleeping more difficult.
Finally giving up, Taemin peeks an eye open to see his leader laughing one of those huge laughs where his eyes form tiny crescents with Kibum speaking in an exuberant tone while flailing his arms. It nearly mortifies Taemin when Kibum glances over quickly, catching Taemin’s jealous stare and providing a quick wink. Taemin turns over, regretting he ever looked.
“You could just talk to Jinki hyung.”
The cool stoic voice of truth that Taemin did not want to hear. The young auburn haired man decides to turn to his tall hyung and glare. “I have no idea what you mean,” hisses Taemin, his threatening voice failing miserably as Minho rolls his eyes.
“You should listen to Minho,” whispers another voice, as Taemin jerks away from a poke to his arm. The blonde haired singer grins and turns around with arms hanging over the seat. Jonghyun points his thumb to Kibum sitting beside him quickly and whispers again, “Otherwise you are really going to let this guy get under your skin.”
Taemin could not deny the words of his hyungs because it did feel like something was crawling under his skin, making him itch and shake. However he could not imagine anything worse than actually asking Jinki about something so trivial. Taemin would rather feel his hair stand on end and his body quivering with goosebumps before talking about something so embarrassing.
“There is nothing to talk about,” Taemin says with a huff, which earns a shake of the head from his hyungs.
“Like Kibum said,” slurs the blonde singer, “Its hormones.”
“Teenage hormones,” reaffirms Minho.
Taemin glares, tearing up random tissues from the backseat and throwing balls of paper at Jonghyun and Minho, shouting, “You guys aren’t that much older than me. That makes no sense!”
Soon a play fight breaks out in the backseats with Jonghyun hollering in laughter and Minho clobbering Taemin. A gentle clobber but enough for a few red spots nonetheless. Taemin retaliates by throwing more tissues and random items from the backseat, making their van more of a mess than it possibly is.
The three ignore the stare of their flabbergasted leader, and the grin of an amused Kibum.
“You know he is getting a tongue lashing because of you,” states Kibum as he wipes dry a few dirty glasses, insisting that they hand wash instead of waste water in the machine. Taemin cannot find the will to say anything, and instead helps Kibum by scrubbing away white marks left behind in the cups. Kibum may have talked the talk, but he did not really have the skills to back up his umma character.
In the aftermath of the battle that Taemin, Jonghyun and Minho had, the vehicle had been littered with white paper bits, a cushion torn in half and Jonghyun nursing a bloody nose, droplets staining the seats. The blood was from Jonghyun laughing too hard and hitting his nose with flailing arms on the side of the car, but the means did not matter as he was still injured. For all this commotion, their manager was outraged and currently taking it out on Jinki.
Taemin could not help but feel like shit. It was his fault for starting the mess yet Jinki stepped in, saying that he should have controlled them better. A wince from Taemin as he could still hear their manager shouting just outside their dorm. Taemin could just imagine Jinki apologizing and bowing at that ninety degree angle repeatedly. Guilt crept across his skin and Taemin squirmed uncomfortably.
“Agh it hurts,” moans an injured Jonghyun across the kitchen in the living room. Minho hands him an icepack and the singer gratefully places it over the warm reddened skin on his nose. Jonghyun groans some more and rolls around on the couch, choosing to stare wide eyed at Taemin.
“So do you want us to stay here while you talk to Jinki in the bedroom?” asks the lead singer, unaware that he is stepping on rusty nails with Taemin.
“Why would I need to talk to him?” snaps Taemin, although in his head, he knew that was the plan all along.
“I figured you would want to,” answers Jonghyun, undaunted or perhaps completely ignorant to Taemin’s growing temper. The singer groans again, rolling onto his back and raising a hand to point to the ceiling in a matter of fact way. “My nose is busted because of you, but I’ll let it slide if you talk to Jinki.”
Minho, who was sitting beside Jonghyun, moved to cover the blonde haired man’s mouth but he was already too late.
Taemin lost it, holding his hyung’s collar, Jonghyun choking out a surprised gasp. “So it’s my fault you swung around like an idiot in the car?” asks Taemin sternly, his brows furrowed deeply, “And if anyone deserves anything from me, it’s Jinki hyung, who is probably hurting a thousand more times than you.”
A hand on his wrist, and Taemin freezes, being face to face with the tall youth. Minho shakes his head and gives a slight nod, telling Taemin with his eyes to basically cut it out. Kibum is not far behind, placing a hand on the maknae’s shoulder, but is of course more vocal.
“Look Taemin-ah, whatever’s got you miffed has got you miffed,” explains Kibum, pausing to point at Jonghyun’s head, “But this idiot has nothing to do with it, you know that.”
“Who’s the idio-mffh!”
Fingers pinching together the lips of a very vocal singer. Minho gives an approving stare to Kibum who signals him an aye aye captain with a flick of his free hand, the other one occupied with the idiot. Approaching Taemin, Minho pushes the young man slowly to the bedroom, and not being dense, Taemin knows this is a message for him to go cool some steam.
Willingly Taemin grumbles but enters the room while Minho shuts the door behind him, returning to the other two, who are currently wrestling. Jonghyun is retaliating fiercely to Kibum, disliking being silenced for more than 10 seconds.
“Too bad Jinki hyung isn’t here,” states Jonghyun, wriggling his face away by pushing Kibum’s hands, “He always calms Taemin down-Oomph!”
A cushion finds its way into Jonghyun’s face, who is squished under the pressure. Kibum smiles in victory as he holds both of the singer’s arms captive and leans gently on the cushion.
“Yah!” scolds Kibum, “You keep talking like that and we won’t be able to save you next time!”
Minho rolls his eyes, adding this scenario to his thoughts of why he should not question why fans think they are weird.
Taemin rolls around in his bed, swearing he has done over fifty rotations. The pit in his stomach will just not go away, a heavy weight that makes him want to gag, and it frustrates him to no end. Acting annoyed for so long over something so minor is not like him at all. He is the cute one that always smiles.
Forcing his lips to curve upwards, Taemin presses his cold hands to his cheeks; a hopeless attempt at happiness he knows. The painfully fake joyful expression fades from his face, and Taemin claps his cheeks before burying himself under the sheets. If anything, at least sleep would allow him to escape for a little bit.
Timid knocks on the door, and a creaking open, followed by a soft voice.
“Taemin? Can we talk?”
The maknae stays still, wanting to pretend he was asleep and indeed hearing nothing. No he did not hear Jinki’s voice, no he did not want to know if the leader was all right, and no he did not want to apologize to the man, and yes he did just want to sleep. Complete and utter lies, but Taemin did not care because avoiding Jinki was all he could think about right now.
“Uh are you sleeping?” asks the soft spoken leader, “It’s just that Jonghyun and Kibum said you wanted to talk.”
Taemin would kill those two later.
Its then that Taemin’s breath catches in his throat as he hears the quiet footsteps approach. Resisting the urge to shake, Taemin hushes himself as his eyes flutter shut. He can hear the whisper of sheets beside him and the creak of the neighbouring bed as a weight moves across it. The persistent thudding of his heart is all Taemin can feel and it echoes violently in his ears.
A whisper of his name but Taemin cannot bear to open his eyes. Instead he dies inside with a burning agony as a hand runs through his hair and fingers trace his ever warming cheeks. The young dancer can only take so much, and each gentle caress and the tingle of skin driving him insane. Taemin can feel his eyes clench further, a pout on his lips.
“Aha!” An exclamation of success. “I knew you were awake!”
Caught without a fight and Taemin opens his eyes slowly, trying to look calm but failing as he realizes he is glaring. Jinki does not seem to mind and continues to stroke the auburn strands from Taemin’s eyes, who feels like the embarrassed child he is, buried under a mountain of blankets. Jinki cracks a wide understanding grin and it makes Taemin’s feelings of guilt resurface along with an odd sense of comfort he does not bother to comprehend.
“Are you okay?” Taemin manages to utter through cotton sheets covering half his face.
Jinki laughs a quiet laugh and Taemin feels relief flood through his body as he knows it is genuine, not like the time when Jinki grinned a little too wide after falling on stage. It is these little things that Taemin notices and is scared to not know, when Jinki is happy, when he is hiding something, when he is sad, when he is angry-just anything.
“I’m okay Taemin,” Jinki responds, the smile on his face worthy of dazzling any being. The leader leans back into his bed, cross-legged, a hand reaching up to his neck as he bends and undoes a crick. “It wasn’t so bad. I think manager hyung was just tired today, so he actually apologized to me when he calmed down haha.”
Black eyes peer at Taemin as Jinki takes a moment to pause, and Taemin knows that they are reading him, even better than Kibum likely.
“Just like you were tired?” asks Jinki who does not lose Taemin’s eyesight, “Or maybe not?”
Brushing away Jinki’s hand, Taemin rolls the blankets halfway off himself and sits up, shadowed beneath the bunk bed. His knees clench tightly against his chest as he sits to face his hyung and Taemin huffs a breath, not breaking eye contact but hiding the flush of his cheeks behind skinny knees.
“Who is your favourite dongsaeng?” It’s a short curt question, but Taemin knows it serves its purpose.
“Hmm…” Jinki’s thick eyebrows furrow in response and the young man raises a hand to his chin, contemplating an answer. It is this serious response that Taemin believes makes Jinki a great leader to their group, nonjudgmental and completely sincere for the most part, unless joking around.
“Well Kibum always seems to know when I am hungry and makes me instant noodles,” comments Jinki, causing Taemin’s chest to slowly start dropping to his stomach, “Jonghyun goofs off with me when we wear weird clothes, like when we threw around that giant silver horseshoe thing. Minho let’s me sleep in his lap, cause you know I can never wake up in the morning, and Taemin-”
Taemin waves off Jinki’s reply and crashes back into his sheets, turning away while hugging a stuffed animal to his chest. “I get it,” states Taemin, a sigh rising to his throat, “We are all great dongsaengs.”
“Hey Taemin, that wasn’t fair.” A repetitive pat on his shoulder from Jinki, which Taemin could only ignore for so long. The maknae releases his sigh and begrudgingly turns towards his leader, wanting nothing more but to be left alone and mope with his teenage angst, where Taemin felt angry but not sure exactly why.
Jinki gives a half-hearted grin and lies down on his bed too, his face now level with Taemin, who merely looks towards their toes. Taemin observes silently as Jinki curls an arm under his head comfortably and reaches out the other arm to stroke auburn hair again. Taemin normally hates to be touched so much, but for some reason he finds it calming from Jinki, not that he would ever admit it, and not that Jinki did not already know. That was probably why whenever Taemin was angry, Kibum and Jonghyun would nag with whiny voices to Jinki to do something about it.
“Well can you tell me who your favourite hyung is?”
Taemin’s body stiffens, and he almost resents Jinki for turning his own question against him, but the sincere glance of his hyung dissipates any shred of ill thoughts the maknae may have had. Jinki smiles again, and Taemin can hear everything all at once, their steady breaths, the shuffle of legs over cotton sheets, the traffic of Seoul in the distance and the soft whispers of his hyungs in the other room.
Raising his hand, Taemin lowers each finger starting from his pinky as he begins his list.
“Kibum hyung makes my cereal in the morning, remembering to put more milk in my bowl since I like it better,” states the young dancer smoothly in thought, “Jonghyun hyung helps me practice my singing even if I have sung the same song thousands of times, and Minho hyung reads manga with me in the afternoon. Jinki hyung-”
And right on cue, Taemin silences as Jinki interrupts, a peaceful expression on his face.
“We are all great hyungs right?” But before Taemin can respond, Jinki continues, withdrawing his own hand that was resting on Taemin’s shoulder and placing it between them as he folds his fingers over one at a time with a new list.
“Taemin fights Kibum in the morning to give me my blanket back so that I can sleep for ten more minutes,” commented the tofu dubbed leader, “He laughs at my jokes even when Jonghyun does not think they are funny anymore, and he gives me excuses to run away and help him with homework when Minho is asking me to play-in other words lose-another mini soccer match. Best of all however, Taemin talks to me about anything and everything even when he is grumpy.”
The most foolish of grins, smiling eyes, and a grand laugh as the soft spoken man closes his hand into a fist giving the classic hwaiting motion. Taemin flushes a deep shade of red and is sure that the world can hear the beating of his chest as he feels a combination of embarrassment and shame, like watching a teenage girl confess her heart’s desires on the television through the latest drama.
“Although maybe it’s not grumpy?”
Caught off guard by Jinki’s speech, Taemin raises an eyebrow at the interruption to his happy fluffy moment of thought.
“Maybe…” Jinki cracks a smirk. “Maybe its hormones?”
A sudden outcry and Jinki winces and groans in mock pain as he is hit repeatedly by a pig neck cushion. Yet not one to back down entirely, Taemin’s brown eyes widen as Jinki fights back, tackling him back into his bed. The pair roll around, a mess of lanky limbs and all until they fall back into Taemin’s bed huffing and puffing between fits of laughter.
Jinki’s voice quiets slowly and Taemin follows suit, their faces mere inches apart.
“I’m sorry I lied,” apologizes Jinki still hiccupping slightly for air, “You’re my favourite dongsaeng.”
Taemin grins from ear to ear and curls his toes into the mattress to push his head up as he kisses Jinki’s eyelids. It amuses the dancer to no end as his tofu leader blushes with pink cheeks, a small “o” on his lips and embarrassed panic written all over his face. Taemin shakes his head, and raises a hand to stroke through short brown locks.
“Sorry I lied,” explains the maknae, “You’re my favourite hyung too.”
From this, Taemin appears to be successful at calming Jinki down and he grabs the blankets at their feet to cover them before linking his hands with his hyung. A soft smile and Taemin dares to snuggle a little closer to Jinki, just like he does when Jinki rolls into his bed in the night, except this time Jinki is entirely conscious.
“Should we take a nap?” asks the dancer.
Pretty much dumbfounded, Jinki nods, but this is acceptable enough to Taemin, who closes his eyes, and turns his head into Jinki’s chest. It should feel uncomfortable, with their bony limbs intertwined the way they were, but Taemin could not help but smile, engulfed by the warmth that radiated from the older man, who did anything but retreat and instead drew closer.
“I don’t remember my hormones being like this when I was your age.”
“Shut up or the hormones will really kick in.”
“Sorry!”
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Um tried something slightly different with my writing? Did anyone even notice? Maybe it got worse or better. I'm not sure. XP Anyway thanks for reading!