Sad Eyes
Title: Sad Eyes
Author: zeropercent
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Taemin/Minho
Summary: Photographer/Model AU. 3.3k words. It’s a shame how someone so young can be so dead.
Warnings: Self-harm, anorexia, mentions of bulimia.
Disclaimer: Cut and title go to Crystal Castles. Not real, didn’t happen, false, etc.
The click of the shutter. The flash. The sound of people shuffling, clothes falling onto the floor.
Minho has worked with hundreds of models. He’s only worked with three of them more than once. He doesn’t mind. It’s not like he’s friends with any of them. Except Key.
Today, it’s a young boy. Minho is kind of alarmed by how small he looks. He turns to Jinki and whispers, “How old is this kid?”
“Nineteen. His name’s Taemin.” They both glance over at him, and Jinki says, “It’s a shame.”
“What?”
“How someone so young can be so dead.”
Minho nods understandingly. Taemin is sickly thin, and even from here, Minho can see his eyes are completely lifeless. He lets the stylist move him around, and Minho manages to see scars on his thin legs when she tells him to change his pants.
Jinki shakes his head, “Poor kid.”
Minho has worked with one other person like this before. A twenty year old girl three years ago. He brought lunch for everyone, and heard the girl in the bathroom twenty minutes later, shoving her fingers down her throat to rid herself of the food. He never spoke to her again, but saw her in another magazine a few months ago, and she looked like she was doing well. He almost didn’t recognize her, until he saw her name. He’s glad there’s help for people who need it.
A hand stretches out in front of him, and Minho looks up, shaking it.
“I’m Taemin.”
“Minho.”
-
Taemin is quiet overall. He obediently does what Minho tells him to do. Tilt your head to the left a bit, try to relax your jaw.
Jinki brings lunch, and Minho’s almost too busy stuffing his face to notice that Taemin’s sitting in the corner, fiddling with his fingers.
“You’re not gonna eat?” Taemin politely declines, and Minho says, “I’ll leave some for you, in case you want some later.”
Taemin forces a smile and Minho walks away, hearing him sigh.
-
Minho sees the makeup artist putting powder on Taemin’s arms. Curious, he asks her what she’s doing. Taemin jumps at the sound of his voice and the artist says, “Covering up.”
Minho swears he sees something flicker in Taemin’s eyes, but it’s gone so quickly, he almost thinks he’s delusional.
When Taemin’s changing outfits again, Minho inadvertently stares at Taemin’s thighs. Taemin turns, and Minho averts his gaze to Taemin’s face, only to see him staring back at him.
Jinki calls for Minho to help with the props, and Minho goes, feeling his face go red.
-
“But you’re fine!”
He hears Key laugh through the phone, “Not everyone’s strong, Minho. It’s an ugly business. It ruins people.”
Minho groans and falls face first onto the couch. “He’s just a kid! He’s too young to be like that.”
“I know. But there’s nothing you can do. People either fix themselves or die. Are you working with him tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we’re finishing up the shoot. Why?”
“Don’t get involved. It might ruin you, too.”
-
Minho is fortunate to have found his job. He’s only twenty six, but he’s been working here for four years and was one of the youngest successful photographers in the country when he started.
“Taemin you can’t keep doing that!”
Minho, startled by the noise, pushes past a few people and reaches Taemin, who’s standing next to a seemingly frustrated Jessica.
Jessica’s eyes soften when Taemin frowns, “You’re too young for this.”
“Is everything alright over here?”
Taemin’s looking at the floor, his right arm clutched to his chest. Jessica takes her hand off of his shoulder, “It’s fine, Minho. I just-nothing. It’s okay.” She sighs and turns back to Taemin, helping him put on a coat.
But Minho manages to see the fresh wounds decorating his arm. Jessica says, “There you go,” urging him towards Minho.
Minho puts his hand on the small of Taemin’s back, noticing the way Taemin leans into him as they head to the set.
-
It’s exactly one o’clock when Taemin falls.
Minho’s eyes widen and he’s by his side in seconds, signaling for someone to bring him water. He says Taemin’s name over and over, feeling his pulse point. Taemin blinks up at Minho, taking the bottle that’s offered to him. “When’s the last time you had a proper meal?”
“I can’t answer that.”
Minho huffs, “When’s the last time you ate anything?”
“Two days ago? I think.”
Minho calls for a break, before helping Taemin up and telling him to go change.
Taemin comes back a little disoriented, but in the clothes he was in when he arrived.
“We’re going out.”
“Where?”
Minho wraps his arm around Taemin’s shoulders, “Out.”
-
“Minho, no.”
“You need to eat something.”
Taemin’s voice sounds weak as he whispers, “I can’t.”
“Yes you can. Trust me.” Taemin stares at the plate of salad like it’s his worst enemy. Minho pushes it closer to him, “Just a little bit. It’ll be alright. Salad’s good for you anyway.”
“You’re just like Jessica noona.”
“Jessica cares about you.”
Taemin picks up his fork, “I know. I think she’s the only one that does.”
“I do, too.”
Taemin smiles. And it’s an honest smile. It hits him from ear to ear and Minho thinks he’s stunning.
-
“You did what?”
“I invited him over?”
Key scoffs, “Minho, what did I tell you? You are so fucked.”
“He’s a nice kid. I want to help him before he destroys himself.”
“From what you’ve told me, he already has.”
-
Minho makes something to eat for when Taemin comes over, knowing he won’t eat beforehand.
There’s a tentative knock on the door at eight and Minho rushes to answer it, beaming at Taemin and leading him in.
“There’s food if you’re hungry.”
“I’m fine for now.”
Minho tells him to choose a movie, gesturing towards his DVD collection.
Taemin doesn’t show him which one he picks, simply putting it into the player and sitting next to Minho on the sofa.
-
Turns out Taemin likes action movies. He likes movies where the protagonist succeeds and saves the girl and they get a happy ending. The movie Taemin chose is one of Minho’s favorites, and they laughed at all the same parts, until Taemin got quiet halfway through.
Minho looks down at Taemin, who’s asleep on his shoulder. He’s probably exhausted from rushing to photo shoot after photo shoot all week. Minho doesn’t blame him. The bright lights are tiring. They make you dizzy and they make you sweat. Minho brushes the hair from Taemin’s face, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
He feels Taemin nuzzle his nose against the collar of his shirt, his hand curling around his forearm and pulling him closer. Seeing him like this, Minho feels even worse for him. He’s just an innocent kid that’s going through too much for him to handle. He doesn’t deserve it.
-
“You’re older than me, right?” Minho nods and Taemin grins, “Minho hyung.”
Minho comments, “You haven’t touched your cereal.” Taemin shifts uncomfortably, staring down at his bowl. “Just a little, Taemin.”
“I have a photo shoot later. I can’t.”
“You do? But it’s Sunday.”
“It’s rare for me to get a full day off. Yesterday I got here late because I was modeling.”
“You need to ask for a break.”
Taemin twirls his spoon between his fingers, “That’s what Jessica noona says. She’s tried doing it for me. No one listens to her, though.” He takes a bite of his cereal, slightly pushing Minho’s foot under the table.
Minho pushes back, giving him a smile.
-
Minho doesn’t hear from Taemin for the next few days. He suspects he’s busy with work. He picks up his phone a few times to call him, but always decides against it.
Taemin’s name flashes on his phone on Thursday, and he sounds terrible.
“Taemin? What’s wrong with you?”
“I feel sick. Noona set me up for some recovery class. I’ve been going all week. I don’t want to go anymore, hyung.”
Minho rubs his face, slightly relieved. “Taemin, you’re not going to like me saying this.” Taemin makes an exasperated noise and Minho continues, “I think you need it.” Taemin definitely isn’t a healthy weight, and something needs to be done about the abuse he puts his skin through. “Just go, Taemin-ah. If not for you, do it for me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
-
“Who’s the model today?”
Jinki looks down at his clipboard, “Lee Taemin. He was here two months ago.”
“What?”
“Hi, hyung.”
Minho spins around at the sound of the familiar voice and surely enough, there’s Taemin. He appears a little tired, but has a happy expression, and in the background, Jessica is struggling with what clothes to choose, clumsily dropping some of it.
He wraps his arms around Taemin, catching him off guard. “I’m glad you’re working with me again.”
“The last magazine liked your work.”
“They obviously liked you too.”
Taemin’s cheeks flush a light pink and Minho feels something unrecognizable in his gut.
-
Taemin willingly goes to buy lunch with Minho. Taemin’s skin looks brighter away from the artificial lights of the studio. His skin looks less like a zombie’s, more like porcelain. More like a young boy, more alive.
Their fingers brush and Minho takes a chance, grabbing his hand. He sneaks a glance and Taemin’s looking down at the ground as they walk, the corners of his mouth tilted upwards.
Minho makes a mental note to photograph him outside.
-
“Just a little bit this way,” Minho suggests. He grabs Taemin’s shoulders, maneuvering him towards the window for the natural light. Taemin has an amused look in his eyes, and moves easily with Minho.
Something flashes and Minho whirls around, “What are you doing?”
Jinki shrugs and smirks, lowering the camera. “Having fun.”
“We need to get this done.” He whispers to Taemin, “What are you doing after this?”
“I have to go to my class.”
Minho hums and adjusts Taemin’s tie and jacket, “Will you stop by afterwards? Stop by my apartment, that is.”
“I’d like that.”
-
Minho cooks dinner, and is happy to see Taemin eating, albeit tentatively. Taemin tells him about his recovery teacher, opening up in a way Minho never thought he’d see. “At first, she’d make me mad because of how she’d talk to me. But now I realize she’s just trying to help me.”
Afterwards, Taemin asks if he can use Minho’s shower. Minho nods, and gives him some clothes, telling him to take his time.
Minho’s extremely sleepy and he collapses on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes before letting his eyes close.
The next thing he registers is warmth. His blanket gets dragged upwards to his chin, and the bed dips. Minho sniffles and pulls Taemin against his chest, breathing into his soft hair. Taemin slides his arm around his waist, getting comfortable.
-
Minho begins to think his bed is in the worst possible spot in the room when he feels the sun hitting his eyelids. But there’s pleasant air grazing his lips and when he opens his eyes, Taemin’s face is right beside his.
Taemin mumbles, “Hyung.” His hand comes up and cups the side of Minho’s face. Minho thinks, fuck it, and presses his lips to Taemin’s. Taemin curls his hand around the back of Minho’s neck, bringing him closer. He lets out a small noise and Minho squeezes his hip, pulling him flush against him.
“Taemin-ah.”
“Don’t leave me.”
Minho tangles his fingers in Taemin’s hair, “I won’t.”
-
“We never hang out anymore.”
Minho nods, taking a sip of his drink, “You’re busy, I’m busy. Glad we could make time though.”
Key beckons the bartender and asks for another beer, “When’s the last time you went out, huh?”
“Like this? I don’t know.” Minho flips a page in his magazine, “A few months.”
Key leans closer and looks at the pictures with Minho. He comments, “Your photography is better.” Minho grins and shakes his head, turning the page yet again. “It’s weird being able to recognize yours. That’s yours right there.”
Minho nods, “That’s Taemin.” It’s from the first photo shoot they did together. Minho has a hard time believing they met almost five months ago.
Key gives Minho a hard stare, “That’s the kid?”
“Yeah. Listen, Key. He’s getting better. He’s in a recovery class and he’s really trying. This picture’s pretty old.”
“What’s going on between you two?”
Minho downs the rest of his beer, alcohol stinging the back of his throat, “I don’t really know. I kissed him.”
“You what?”
“He slept over and in the morning, I kissed him.”
Key gets an incredulous look on his face. “How old is he?” Minho opens his mouth but Key puts a hand up, “Wait, I’m not drunk enough for this. Bartender!”
“He’s nineteen.”
Key pats his shoulder, “At least he’s old enough for you.” Minho kicks his shin in response. “I’m just saying! He looks underage.”
“In that picture he does.” Minho analyzes it for a second, “He looks healthier now.”
“Try to get laid tonight, yeah?” Minho holds back a laugh as Key gets up, “I’m going to dance.”
“You do that.”
-
Minho’s phone rings at two in the morning. He has a slight headache from drinking, and maybe he’s still drunk, and his eyes are half closed, but he answers anyway.
Immediately, a voice asks, “Can I come over?”
More aware, Minho sits up in his bed, “Taemin?”
“Please? My parents are fighting and I can’t be here right now.”
“Of course.”
-
“You still live with your parents?”
Taemin nods against his chest, “I don’t have enough money to move out yet. I’m getting there, though. With all of the photo shoots I’ve been doing.”
“You can stay here for the time being.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
Minho rubs his back and says, “Of course you could. Don’t be silly.”
Taemin tilts his head up and places his hand on Minho’s arm, kissing him. Taemin’s gentle, and his lips are softer than silk. Taemin’s fingers tangle themselves in his hair and Minho says, “I might be a little drunk still.”
“You taste like alcohol.” Taemin laughs and says, “Did you party it up?”
“Not really.” When Key went to dance, Minho downed a couple more beers, and he kept his magazine open to the page with Taemin’s picture on it. He’d ask every person who sat next to him if they thought Taemin was beautiful, and if they said no, he’d narrow his eyes and clutch the magazine to his chest. “I’m not a party person.” Taemin plays with the hem of Minho’s shirt and Minho rests his head against the pillow, “I have a headache.”
“You’re probably going to have a bad hangover in the morning.” Minho groans and buries his face in the crook of Taemin’s neck. Taemin cards his fingers through his hair, “Just go to sleep.”
Minho kisses his neck, “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
Taemin pets his head, “Just sleep, hyung.”
-
Seeing Taemin eating with almost no problem, Minho finds himself asking, “How long have you been in that recovery class now?”
Taemin looks up from his food, “Four or five months, I think. It’s almost over.”
“You seem to be doing well.”
“My teacher says I’m right on track. She says I can make a full recovery.”
Minho smiles, “That’s great, Taemin-ah.” He adds, “I’m proud of you.”
Taemin brightens considerably, “You are?”
“Yeah. You’ve come really far.”
Taemin leans over the table and Minho meets him halfway, grabbing his face and pressing their mouths together.
-
Taemin gets a day off and he spends it at Minho’s dorm, lazing around in shorts and a tank top.
His head’s on Minho’s lap as Minho idly traces the old scars on his arm, fingertips trailing lightly across his skin. Taemin reaches up and pinches Minho’s nose, grinning at him.
The show they’re watching cuts to commercial, and Taemin mutters, “I used to dance, you know.”
“What made you stop?”
“Modeling. I kind of want to take it up again, but I don’t think I’d be any good.”
“You can always learn again.”
“That’s true. I’ve just been so busy.”
Minho twirls Taemin’s hair between his fingers, “You can do whatever you want.” Taemin picks at a button on Minho’s shirt, pressing his face against his stomach.
-
“So, guess who I met.” Minho raises an eyebrow and Key leans back on the couch, “Lee Taemin.”
“You met him?”
“We did a shoot together. He seems nice. He’s a little weird, though, doesn’t talk much.”
“He talks when you get to know him.”
Key shoves his hand into Minho’s bowl of chips, shoveling them into his mouth. He changes the channel, earning a sound of displeasure from Minho. “Oh shut up. I hardly ever watch television anymore.” Minho rolls his eyes and throws a chip at Key’s face. “Don’t start with me, Choi Minho.”
Minho bites his lip to keep from laughing and Key smacks him with a cushion.
-
Taemin pulls Minho down by his collar, wrapping his legs around his waist. Minho’s repeating his name but Taemin’s mumbling please into his mouth.
“I’ve got you, it’s alright.”
Minho works on unbuttoning Taemin’s jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers when Taemin lifts his hips. Minho can fit his hands comfortably on his waist. He’s not as bony as he was when they first met, he’s soft now, and he looks like he fits in his own body.
He pushes Taemin’s shirt up, taking it off and kissing his cheek. Taemin grabs Minho’s shoulders, sliding his hands down his chest and pulling off his hoodie.
It doesn’t take long before Minho’s just as unclothed as Taemin, and he’s running his lips along his neck, feeling Taemin shudder under his touch.
Taemin’s fingers curl carefully around his wrist, and Minho moves to thread their fingers together. Minho mouths at Taemin’s collar bone, feeling him tense. Taemin shakily says his name and Minho squeezes his hand, using his other hand to wrap around his cock.
Taemin arches up into him, breathing against his hair. He presses his thigh up between Minho’s legs, hearing him let out a low noise. He fists a hand in Minho’s hair, staring at him with desperate eyes.
Minho could get lost in him. Minho wants to trace every part of his body with his fingertips. He’s seen him at his worst; he wants to see what he can accomplish at his best. He wants to see the sunshine radiate off of his skin. He wants to breathe him in.
Taemin makes little whimpers when Minho flicks his wrist, pushing up into his fist. He leans up and Minho kisses him, licking his way into his mouth. Taemin hooks his arms around his neck, trying to bring Minho in even closer.
He presses his nose to Minho’s jaw, gasping out his name as he comes over Minho’s hand. Minho thinks he’ll remember that sound for the rest of his life.
Taemin weakly pushes Minho to the side, and Minho manages to catch a glimpse of his flushed cheeks before he sucks a mark into his neck as he goes to return the favor.
-
“Stay here.”
Minho looks at the clock, he has to be at work in two hours. He glances at Taemin. Half asleep, hair disheveled against the pillow, sleep lines on his cheek.
He decides to lie back, letting Taemin mold himself against his chest. “Okay. I have to be up soon, though.”
Taemin hums, “Yeah. Just for a little while.”
Minho rubs his back, pressing down and tracing his spine.
Seeing Taemin like this, Minho knows exactly what he feels. He knows what he felt before. He knows what he felt the second he met Taemin.
The words sit on the tip of his tongue, and he’s tempted to let them out.
I’m so ridiculously in love with you, he thinks.
Taemin mutters, “I love you too, hyung.”
Minho tightens his arms around his waist, grinning uncontrollably against Taemin’s shoulder.
Author: zeropercent
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Taemin/Minho
Summary: Photographer/Model AU. 3.3k words. It’s a shame how someone so young can be so dead.
Warnings: Self-harm, anorexia, mentions of bulimia.
Disclaimer: Cut and title go to Crystal Castles. Not real, didn’t happen, false, etc.
The click of the shutter. The flash. The sound of people shuffling, clothes falling onto the floor.
Minho has worked with hundreds of models. He’s only worked with three of them more than once. He doesn’t mind. It’s not like he’s friends with any of them. Except Key.
Today, it’s a young boy. Minho is kind of alarmed by how small he looks. He turns to Jinki and whispers, “How old is this kid?”
“Nineteen. His name’s Taemin.” They both glance over at him, and Jinki says, “It’s a shame.”
“What?”
“How someone so young can be so dead.”
Minho nods understandingly. Taemin is sickly thin, and even from here, Minho can see his eyes are completely lifeless. He lets the stylist move him around, and Minho manages to see scars on his thin legs when she tells him to change his pants.
Jinki shakes his head, “Poor kid.”
Minho has worked with one other person like this before. A twenty year old girl three years ago. He brought lunch for everyone, and heard the girl in the bathroom twenty minutes later, shoving her fingers down her throat to rid herself of the food. He never spoke to her again, but saw her in another magazine a few months ago, and she looked like she was doing well. He almost didn’t recognize her, until he saw her name. He’s glad there’s help for people who need it.
A hand stretches out in front of him, and Minho looks up, shaking it.
“I’m Taemin.”
“Minho.”
-
Taemin is quiet overall. He obediently does what Minho tells him to do. Tilt your head to the left a bit, try to relax your jaw.
Jinki brings lunch, and Minho’s almost too busy stuffing his face to notice that Taemin’s sitting in the corner, fiddling with his fingers.
“You’re not gonna eat?” Taemin politely declines, and Minho says, “I’ll leave some for you, in case you want some later.”
Taemin forces a smile and Minho walks away, hearing him sigh.
-
Minho sees the makeup artist putting powder on Taemin’s arms. Curious, he asks her what she’s doing. Taemin jumps at the sound of his voice and the artist says, “Covering up.”
Minho swears he sees something flicker in Taemin’s eyes, but it’s gone so quickly, he almost thinks he’s delusional.
When Taemin’s changing outfits again, Minho inadvertently stares at Taemin’s thighs. Taemin turns, and Minho averts his gaze to Taemin’s face, only to see him staring back at him.
Jinki calls for Minho to help with the props, and Minho goes, feeling his face go red.
-
“But you’re fine!”
He hears Key laugh through the phone, “Not everyone’s strong, Minho. It’s an ugly business. It ruins people.”
Minho groans and falls face first onto the couch. “He’s just a kid! He’s too young to be like that.”
“I know. But there’s nothing you can do. People either fix themselves or die. Are you working with him tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we’re finishing up the shoot. Why?”
“Don’t get involved. It might ruin you, too.”
-
Minho is fortunate to have found his job. He’s only twenty six, but he’s been working here for four years and was one of the youngest successful photographers in the country when he started.
“Taemin you can’t keep doing that!”
Minho, startled by the noise, pushes past a few people and reaches Taemin, who’s standing next to a seemingly frustrated Jessica.
Jessica’s eyes soften when Taemin frowns, “You’re too young for this.”
“Is everything alright over here?”
Taemin’s looking at the floor, his right arm clutched to his chest. Jessica takes her hand off of his shoulder, “It’s fine, Minho. I just-nothing. It’s okay.” She sighs and turns back to Taemin, helping him put on a coat.
But Minho manages to see the fresh wounds decorating his arm. Jessica says, “There you go,” urging him towards Minho.
Minho puts his hand on the small of Taemin’s back, noticing the way Taemin leans into him as they head to the set.
-
It’s exactly one o’clock when Taemin falls.
Minho’s eyes widen and he’s by his side in seconds, signaling for someone to bring him water. He says Taemin’s name over and over, feeling his pulse point. Taemin blinks up at Minho, taking the bottle that’s offered to him. “When’s the last time you had a proper meal?”
“I can’t answer that.”
Minho huffs, “When’s the last time you ate anything?”
“Two days ago? I think.”
Minho calls for a break, before helping Taemin up and telling him to go change.
Taemin comes back a little disoriented, but in the clothes he was in when he arrived.
“We’re going out.”
“Where?”
Minho wraps his arm around Taemin’s shoulders, “Out.”
-
“Minho, no.”
“You need to eat something.”
Taemin’s voice sounds weak as he whispers, “I can’t.”
“Yes you can. Trust me.” Taemin stares at the plate of salad like it’s his worst enemy. Minho pushes it closer to him, “Just a little bit. It’ll be alright. Salad’s good for you anyway.”
“You’re just like Jessica noona.”
“Jessica cares about you.”
Taemin picks up his fork, “I know. I think she’s the only one that does.”
“I do, too.”
Taemin smiles. And it’s an honest smile. It hits him from ear to ear and Minho thinks he’s stunning.
-
“You did what?”
“I invited him over?”
Key scoffs, “Minho, what did I tell you? You are so fucked.”
“He’s a nice kid. I want to help him before he destroys himself.”
“From what you’ve told me, he already has.”
-
Minho makes something to eat for when Taemin comes over, knowing he won’t eat beforehand.
There’s a tentative knock on the door at eight and Minho rushes to answer it, beaming at Taemin and leading him in.
“There’s food if you’re hungry.”
“I’m fine for now.”
Minho tells him to choose a movie, gesturing towards his DVD collection.
Taemin doesn’t show him which one he picks, simply putting it into the player and sitting next to Minho on the sofa.
-
Turns out Taemin likes action movies. He likes movies where the protagonist succeeds and saves the girl and they get a happy ending. The movie Taemin chose is one of Minho’s favorites, and they laughed at all the same parts, until Taemin got quiet halfway through.
Minho looks down at Taemin, who’s asleep on his shoulder. He’s probably exhausted from rushing to photo shoot after photo shoot all week. Minho doesn’t blame him. The bright lights are tiring. They make you dizzy and they make you sweat. Minho brushes the hair from Taemin’s face, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.
He feels Taemin nuzzle his nose against the collar of his shirt, his hand curling around his forearm and pulling him closer. Seeing him like this, Minho feels even worse for him. He’s just an innocent kid that’s going through too much for him to handle. He doesn’t deserve it.
-
“You’re older than me, right?” Minho nods and Taemin grins, “Minho hyung.”
Minho comments, “You haven’t touched your cereal.” Taemin shifts uncomfortably, staring down at his bowl. “Just a little, Taemin.”
“I have a photo shoot later. I can’t.”
“You do? But it’s Sunday.”
“It’s rare for me to get a full day off. Yesterday I got here late because I was modeling.”
“You need to ask for a break.”
Taemin twirls his spoon between his fingers, “That’s what Jessica noona says. She’s tried doing it for me. No one listens to her, though.” He takes a bite of his cereal, slightly pushing Minho’s foot under the table.
Minho pushes back, giving him a smile.
-
Minho doesn’t hear from Taemin for the next few days. He suspects he’s busy with work. He picks up his phone a few times to call him, but always decides against it.
Taemin’s name flashes on his phone on Thursday, and he sounds terrible.
“Taemin? What’s wrong with you?”
“I feel sick. Noona set me up for some recovery class. I’ve been going all week. I don’t want to go anymore, hyung.”
Minho rubs his face, slightly relieved. “Taemin, you’re not going to like me saying this.” Taemin makes an exasperated noise and Minho continues, “I think you need it.” Taemin definitely isn’t a healthy weight, and something needs to be done about the abuse he puts his skin through. “Just go, Taemin-ah. If not for you, do it for me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
-
“Who’s the model today?”
Jinki looks down at his clipboard, “Lee Taemin. He was here two months ago.”
“What?”
“Hi, hyung.”
Minho spins around at the sound of the familiar voice and surely enough, there’s Taemin. He appears a little tired, but has a happy expression, and in the background, Jessica is struggling with what clothes to choose, clumsily dropping some of it.
He wraps his arms around Taemin, catching him off guard. “I’m glad you’re working with me again.”
“The last magazine liked your work.”
“They obviously liked you too.”
Taemin’s cheeks flush a light pink and Minho feels something unrecognizable in his gut.
-
Taemin willingly goes to buy lunch with Minho. Taemin’s skin looks brighter away from the artificial lights of the studio. His skin looks less like a zombie’s, more like porcelain. More like a young boy, more alive.
Their fingers brush and Minho takes a chance, grabbing his hand. He sneaks a glance and Taemin’s looking down at the ground as they walk, the corners of his mouth tilted upwards.
Minho makes a mental note to photograph him outside.
-
“Just a little bit this way,” Minho suggests. He grabs Taemin’s shoulders, maneuvering him towards the window for the natural light. Taemin has an amused look in his eyes, and moves easily with Minho.
Something flashes and Minho whirls around, “What are you doing?”
Jinki shrugs and smirks, lowering the camera. “Having fun.”
“We need to get this done.” He whispers to Taemin, “What are you doing after this?”
“I have to go to my class.”
Minho hums and adjusts Taemin’s tie and jacket, “Will you stop by afterwards? Stop by my apartment, that is.”
“I’d like that.”
-
Minho cooks dinner, and is happy to see Taemin eating, albeit tentatively. Taemin tells him about his recovery teacher, opening up in a way Minho never thought he’d see. “At first, she’d make me mad because of how she’d talk to me. But now I realize she’s just trying to help me.”
Afterwards, Taemin asks if he can use Minho’s shower. Minho nods, and gives him some clothes, telling him to take his time.
Minho’s extremely sleepy and he collapses on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes before letting his eyes close.
The next thing he registers is warmth. His blanket gets dragged upwards to his chin, and the bed dips. Minho sniffles and pulls Taemin against his chest, breathing into his soft hair. Taemin slides his arm around his waist, getting comfortable.
-
Minho begins to think his bed is in the worst possible spot in the room when he feels the sun hitting his eyelids. But there’s pleasant air grazing his lips and when he opens his eyes, Taemin’s face is right beside his.
Taemin mumbles, “Hyung.” His hand comes up and cups the side of Minho’s face. Minho thinks, fuck it, and presses his lips to Taemin’s. Taemin curls his hand around the back of Minho’s neck, bringing him closer. He lets out a small noise and Minho squeezes his hip, pulling him flush against him.
“Taemin-ah.”
“Don’t leave me.”
Minho tangles his fingers in Taemin’s hair, “I won’t.”
-
“We never hang out anymore.”
Minho nods, taking a sip of his drink, “You’re busy, I’m busy. Glad we could make time though.”
Key beckons the bartender and asks for another beer, “When’s the last time you went out, huh?”
“Like this? I don’t know.” Minho flips a page in his magazine, “A few months.”
Key leans closer and looks at the pictures with Minho. He comments, “Your photography is better.” Minho grins and shakes his head, turning the page yet again. “It’s weird being able to recognize yours. That’s yours right there.”
Minho nods, “That’s Taemin.” It’s from the first photo shoot they did together. Minho has a hard time believing they met almost five months ago.
Key gives Minho a hard stare, “That’s the kid?”
“Yeah. Listen, Key. He’s getting better. He’s in a recovery class and he’s really trying. This picture’s pretty old.”
“What’s going on between you two?”
Minho downs the rest of his beer, alcohol stinging the back of his throat, “I don’t really know. I kissed him.”
“You what?”
“He slept over and in the morning, I kissed him.”
Key gets an incredulous look on his face. “How old is he?” Minho opens his mouth but Key puts a hand up, “Wait, I’m not drunk enough for this. Bartender!”
“He’s nineteen.”
Key pats his shoulder, “At least he’s old enough for you.” Minho kicks his shin in response. “I’m just saying! He looks underage.”
“In that picture he does.” Minho analyzes it for a second, “He looks healthier now.”
“Try to get laid tonight, yeah?” Minho holds back a laugh as Key gets up, “I’m going to dance.”
“You do that.”
-
Minho’s phone rings at two in the morning. He has a slight headache from drinking, and maybe he’s still drunk, and his eyes are half closed, but he answers anyway.
Immediately, a voice asks, “Can I come over?”
More aware, Minho sits up in his bed, “Taemin?”
“Please? My parents are fighting and I can’t be here right now.”
“Of course.”
-
“You still live with your parents?”
Taemin nods against his chest, “I don’t have enough money to move out yet. I’m getting there, though. With all of the photo shoots I’ve been doing.”
“You can stay here for the time being.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
Minho rubs his back and says, “Of course you could. Don’t be silly.”
Taemin tilts his head up and places his hand on Minho’s arm, kissing him. Taemin’s gentle, and his lips are softer than silk. Taemin’s fingers tangle themselves in his hair and Minho says, “I might be a little drunk still.”
“You taste like alcohol.” Taemin laughs and says, “Did you party it up?”
“Not really.” When Key went to dance, Minho downed a couple more beers, and he kept his magazine open to the page with Taemin’s picture on it. He’d ask every person who sat next to him if they thought Taemin was beautiful, and if they said no, he’d narrow his eyes and clutch the magazine to his chest. “I’m not a party person.” Taemin plays with the hem of Minho’s shirt and Minho rests his head against the pillow, “I have a headache.”
“You’re probably going to have a bad hangover in the morning.” Minho groans and buries his face in the crook of Taemin’s neck. Taemin cards his fingers through his hair, “Just go to sleep.”
Minho kisses his neck, “I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”
Taemin pets his head, “Just sleep, hyung.”
-
Seeing Taemin eating with almost no problem, Minho finds himself asking, “How long have you been in that recovery class now?”
Taemin looks up from his food, “Four or five months, I think. It’s almost over.”
“You seem to be doing well.”
“My teacher says I’m right on track. She says I can make a full recovery.”
Minho smiles, “That’s great, Taemin-ah.” He adds, “I’m proud of you.”
Taemin brightens considerably, “You are?”
“Yeah. You’ve come really far.”
Taemin leans over the table and Minho meets him halfway, grabbing his face and pressing their mouths together.
-
Taemin gets a day off and he spends it at Minho’s dorm, lazing around in shorts and a tank top.
His head’s on Minho’s lap as Minho idly traces the old scars on his arm, fingertips trailing lightly across his skin. Taemin reaches up and pinches Minho’s nose, grinning at him.
The show they’re watching cuts to commercial, and Taemin mutters, “I used to dance, you know.”
“What made you stop?”
“Modeling. I kind of want to take it up again, but I don’t think I’d be any good.”
“You can always learn again.”
“That’s true. I’ve just been so busy.”
Minho twirls Taemin’s hair between his fingers, “You can do whatever you want.” Taemin picks at a button on Minho’s shirt, pressing his face against his stomach.
-
“So, guess who I met.” Minho raises an eyebrow and Key leans back on the couch, “Lee Taemin.”
“You met him?”
“We did a shoot together. He seems nice. He’s a little weird, though, doesn’t talk much.”
“He talks when you get to know him.”
Key shoves his hand into Minho’s bowl of chips, shoveling them into his mouth. He changes the channel, earning a sound of displeasure from Minho. “Oh shut up. I hardly ever watch television anymore.” Minho rolls his eyes and throws a chip at Key’s face. “Don’t start with me, Choi Minho.”
Minho bites his lip to keep from laughing and Key smacks him with a cushion.
-
Taemin pulls Minho down by his collar, wrapping his legs around his waist. Minho’s repeating his name but Taemin’s mumbling please into his mouth.
“I’ve got you, it’s alright.”
Minho works on unbuttoning Taemin’s jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers when Taemin lifts his hips. Minho can fit his hands comfortably on his waist. He’s not as bony as he was when they first met, he’s soft now, and he looks like he fits in his own body.
He pushes Taemin’s shirt up, taking it off and kissing his cheek. Taemin grabs Minho’s shoulders, sliding his hands down his chest and pulling off his hoodie.
It doesn’t take long before Minho’s just as unclothed as Taemin, and he’s running his lips along his neck, feeling Taemin shudder under his touch.
Taemin’s fingers curl carefully around his wrist, and Minho moves to thread their fingers together. Minho mouths at Taemin’s collar bone, feeling him tense. Taemin shakily says his name and Minho squeezes his hand, using his other hand to wrap around his cock.
Taemin arches up into him, breathing against his hair. He presses his thigh up between Minho’s legs, hearing him let out a low noise. He fists a hand in Minho’s hair, staring at him with desperate eyes.
Minho could get lost in him. Minho wants to trace every part of his body with his fingertips. He’s seen him at his worst; he wants to see what he can accomplish at his best. He wants to see the sunshine radiate off of his skin. He wants to breathe him in.
Taemin makes little whimpers when Minho flicks his wrist, pushing up into his fist. He leans up and Minho kisses him, licking his way into his mouth. Taemin hooks his arms around his neck, trying to bring Minho in even closer.
He presses his nose to Minho’s jaw, gasping out his name as he comes over Minho’s hand. Minho thinks he’ll remember that sound for the rest of his life.
Taemin weakly pushes Minho to the side, and Minho manages to catch a glimpse of his flushed cheeks before he sucks a mark into his neck as he goes to return the favor.
-
“Stay here.”
Minho looks at the clock, he has to be at work in two hours. He glances at Taemin. Half asleep, hair disheveled against the pillow, sleep lines on his cheek.
He decides to lie back, letting Taemin mold himself against his chest. “Okay. I have to be up soon, though.”
Taemin hums, “Yeah. Just for a little while.”
Minho rubs his back, pressing down and tracing his spine.
Seeing Taemin like this, Minho knows exactly what he feels. He knows what he felt before. He knows what he felt the second he met Taemin.
The words sit on the tip of his tongue, and he’s tempted to let them out.
I’m so ridiculously in love with you, he thinks.
Taemin mutters, “I love you too, hyung.”
Minho tightens his arms around his waist, grinning uncontrollably against Taemin’s shoulder.