things
ontae, angst/fluff, pg-15, 2659 w
a/n: this is FICTION and I honestly hope none of it happened because I want them all to be happy and healthy and stuff ;~;
[Big things start out small. 'Things' is a very general term: anything can be classified under 'things'. Like problems, for example. Problems related to memory, related to loneliness. Problems caused partly by marketing schemes, partly by actual illness.]
"Hyung?"
Jinki didn't answer, just groaned into his pillow, dark red clouding his vision.
Blurred voices and the occasional cool arm under his head, people taking turns to stay next to him and cool his forehead. Complications, contracts, plane tickets and mounting tension: a slow whirling of events passing him by so fast he felt like he was about to throw up any second.
Jinki was sick. He'd gasp, try to scream, in the middle of the night, paralyzed. Nightmares kicked him into waking ages before his body could accept the change of unconsciousness to consciousness, and he'd try to calm himself, soaked in his own sweat on the sheets. Try to remind himself that Taemin was at the other end of the room, Kibum was a little closer, Jonghyun and Minho on the other side of the wall (he could usually hear them talking, even in the wee morning hours; Jonghyun's voice sleepy and soft, Minho's lower, filled with yawns). Everybody was safe, together, there was no need to worry.
But he worried. He didn't know what he'd do without worrying. Sleep, maybe? Sleep was nice. He wanted to sleep. But he couldn't. He shifted hazily from soft grays, absorbing sounds and accepting them, not doing anything about them, to opening his eyes and taking deep breaths, swallowing the pills Taemin or Minho had at hand. Kibum cooked the food the doctor had prescribed. Jonghyun helped in the kitchen, or sang for Jinki to calm down.
Jinki was sick, and he wanted Taemin. It was obvious, really, the way he groaned his name softly into the pillow at three in the morning, tears dripping lazily down his face.
-
Kibum slept, oblivious, but Taemin sat up in bed, brooding. Taemin wanted to get up, stroke his hair, kiss his forehead, wipe his tears. Taemin wanted to climb into Jinki's bed, tuck the covers comfortably around them, poke his nose at Jinki's lips regardless of whatever germs Kibum warned him about. Wanted to take him by the shoulders as they'd lie side by side, facing each other, and stare into the other's eyes until they crinkled happily, and closed in slumber. Taemin wanted to do so much, but he didn't dare.
[Problems are also caused by mistakes. People make lots of mistakes.]
He'd stay up, though, sometimes crawl over to Jinki's bed and just stare at his feet. Then make a face, because seriously? Staring at his boyfriend's feet? Impressive.
Taemin was okay when Jinki was awake, though. He sat on the edge of the bed, spooning soup into his pretty mouth, took time to properly realize how the curves of his face had slanted inwards, how the hollows beneath those eyes grew a little bluer every day. Watched Jinki's adam's apple bob with each spoonful, unconsciously swallowing along with the elder, trying to make it better.
It was scary, how it'd been almost a month and he wasn't showing any signs of recovery. The fifth plane ticket was finally cancelled, and the night before the four left, Taemin mustered up all his courage and stayed in bed with Jinki all day.
"You're going to get sick," Kibum cast his eyes down, reprimanding them half heartedly. "Okay," Taemin said, and Kibum scuttled away. Jinki tried to nod his head in agreement with Kibum, but he ended up whining, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm sorry, hyung," Taemin whispered.
"Gugh," Jinki smiled weakly back at him, lifting a burning hand (no longer as chubby as it once was, Taemin took a shuddering breath) to place on his waist.
They stayed completely silent, not another word exchanged the whole day. Taemin sighed a couple of times, Jinki sneezed occasionally, but other than that, nothing. Taemin shifted his position around dusk, as the light through the windows darkened from contralto blue to purple baritones, cradled Jinki's head against his chest, stroked his hair and felt Jinki's heart beat against his stomach. He drew away slightly when the hour hand neared ten, and he felt vibrations tickling his skin. "Hmm?"
"I was saying, take care of yourself," Jinki's voice was barely a whisper now, and he winced, coughing, then sneezing. "Of course, baby," Taemin whispered, wriggling down again to face him properly. He blinked a couple of times, gaze roving the other's face, to etch the image over his eyeballs later.
"I packed your stuff," Jonghyun poked his head over the edge of the door and left.
"I miss you," Taemin said, plainitively, holding Jinki's face in his hands. They were still lying side by side on the bed, and he missed him already. Jinki nodded, eyes sad.
When Taemin finally dragged himself out, Jinki clung to his hand for a second, before turning his face away into the pillow.
Taemin pretended not to notice, and an ugly, painful feeling pounded at his throat.
[Things that would normally be understandable if it weren't for bad timing can be classified as mistakes.]
-
As the door closed, Jinki lifted his head again, tears streaking down.
A rational part argued that there's no need to be this way, it's just two or three days. You're overreacting because you're sick and it's messing with your brain.
The blur continued, the nightmares turned to dreams that forced his head down a tonne of water, making it hard to breathe, Taemin next to him, blinking, leaving. When he woke up, he felt like he was drowning.
The manager stayed by his side, now, and things got steadily better. Two days passed, and Jinki sighed after he woke up. "Same dream?" the man asked, looking up from his book. Jinki nodded. Then, "Hyung?"
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
"Okay."
Jinki was fine by the time the others came back.
His fever had reached the highest it could go and then it sulked off suddenly into the night, actually waking up Jinki with a start. He stared at the ceiling, feeling extremely strange. Then he realized that he felt hot. He felt so hot he'd actually thrown off the covers in his sleep. He wasn't shaking or shivering, and there was no longer any sweat clinging to his forehead. His scalp was actually dry, and his hair felt fluffy and scrunched up. He looked at the clock, read 02.52 a.m., and grinned for the first time in a... God, he couldn't even remember how long.
"Taemin!" he yelped, happily, as the youngest tumbled in last through the dorm door, eyes cheerful but tired, shirt awry."You're better," Taemin whispered against Jinki's comfortable old striped sweater (their couple sweater), sinking into Jinki's arms and falling asleep at once. "Hey, hey," Jinki smiled down at him, and walked him through to their room.
Minho grinned at him, big eyes shining, and ruffled his hair. Kibum patted his shoulder as Jonghyun clapped his back.
Jinki had expected things to be fine after his recovery, but they weren't.
[There are two sides to all mistakes, and in some circumstances, both active and passive elements involved tend to hurt - for different reasons.]
Taemin ignored him - didn't just ignore him, he ignored him as much as possible.
"Onew-ah," the manager cleared his throat on Monday, eyes slightly shifty. Jinki had actually been expecting this.
"We're going to have to ask you to limit your movement as much as possible, wear a mask or cover up really well when you go out. You can go to a relative's place for a while, if you wish."
Jinki breathed noisily through his nose, quirking a smile. "I don't actually have a choice."
"No," the elder man looked sincerely apologetic. "Can't really help it."
"I know."
-
Taemin didn't say goodbye when Jinki left. He stared, eyes unwavering from Jinki's when he turned around for a hug, a word, a something. Taemin stood there, like a statue, barely ten inches away. Jinki gulped, ducked his head and left.
"And what exactly is your problem?"
Taemin ignored Minho, ignored the stares, trudged to the room and flopped onto Jinki's bed. Kibum brought lunch half an hour later. "Yah, aegi." Taemin nodded, staring at the pillow that still had a soft dent, a little impression left from the leader's head. "Eat," Kibum ordered, voice turned deep with irritation, and Taemin nodded again. "'Kay." He picked a small bunch of ramyun with his chopsticks after he heard the door close. Tears blurred his vision as he raised it up to thin air, pretended Jinki was still there.
The chopsticks clattered to the tray, brown drops of curry splattering the clean white sheets. "I'm sorry," he wanted to say, but nobody was there to listen, and he wasn't sorry anyway. (He was sorry that he wasn't sorry.)
[Some people hurt because they don't know why they did the mistake. Other people hurt because they don't see the other side.]
When Jinki's selca was released, Taemin stared at the laptop screen for hours.
"Halo 3?" Minho tried. Taemin shook his head.
Skins marathon? Kibum sent him an IM from across the room. Taemin frowned.
Jonghyun shoved a bowl of fried rice and steak under his nose, and Taemin complied. He tried not talking aloud to the picture on his screen, but he couldn't help choking out an I miss you. Jonghyun smiled uneasily, patted his shoulder.
Taemin felt grateful as the others left the room.
Jinki kept texting him, telling him how things were going at his place, how the nieces were adorable and how helping them with their homework was so amusing, how it reminded him of his own days in grade school. Texts about food and 'How are you guys?' and 'I hope you're okay, Taemin-ah.' Taemin frowned curiously, didn't reply. He read them like bedtime stories to make himself go to sleep.
When Jinki came back, Taemin smiled shyly, eyes glinting suspiciously. Jinki looked at him, felt relieved. Some things went on, he told himself hopefuly, and stopped.
[Some people want to cover up the mistakes, some don't mind letting them be.]
Something else started. "Hyung, can you sleep somewhere else for a bit?" Taemin poked Kibum's elbow idly. Kibum shrugged. "Sure."
Jinki looked up, curious, but kept silent.
"I missed you," Taemin slammed his hands to the headboard, devouring his mouth. Jinki gulped back a scared squeak, forced himself to stop trembling. Something still went on in Taemin. He didn't taste the same anymore, not of bananas and peanut butter laced with cream. He tasted like a blackhole, of desperation draped in silky bravado. Taemin whimpered, choking on his own breath as he trailed down Jinki's jaw, lashes curling against the cheeks (slightly fuller now), tongue rediscovering the taste of Jinki's neck as his nose pressed flat against Jinki's ear. "I missed you," Taemin gasped again, leaving go of his hands and staring at him with wide, scared eyes. "I missed you so much."
Jinki dragged him down, wordless, soothing. Steady hands circled his waist, mouth touching Taemin's skin in an achingly soft ritual. Taemin closed his eyes, lifted his face to the ceiling, gulping heavily.
"Jagiya?"
Taemin's hands found their way to Jinki's shoulders, looked down at him, smiling. "Hm?"
"I missed you, too."
Taemin's throat clogged for a moment.
-
I love you, Jinki meant, but how could Taemin know?
-
They stayed still for a moment, Jinki's heart beating again against Taemin's stomach, until Jinki leaned forward, pressed his lips against Taemin's navel, keeping his gaze. The younger shuddered, bent over Jinki's head, kissing his hair.
[Ultimately, if one doesn't apologize first, the mistake becomes a sore spot.]
*
"Are my thighs actually that great?" Jinki's quite excited.
"Well..." Taemin's about to continue, but Jonghyun starts talking about what he should tweet about next so they get distracted. Jinki doesn't remember until after bedtime, when Taemin's telling Jonghyun off for drooling over his pillow in the afternoon. Across the corridor, in a different bedroom. Jinki frowns and bites his lip, hugging his pillow as he wriggles against the headboard, looking out the window.
*
"So I'm soft, and you know this because you touch me, huh?"
Taemin snorted, "I'm sorry, you didn't know?"
"Hmmm."
Say something nice, please. Jinki doesn't say anything else.
Taemin chuckles uneasily in the silence.
*
[If any one of the two apologizes after the mistake has become sore, but covered up well, it becomes better. There are cases when it becomes worse, first, but not if there is true sincerity.]
"Taemin-ah?" Jinki's voice is slightly shaky, tired. Taemin looks up, wary, troubled. "I don't know if I've done anything wrong lately. I'm sorry if I have, okay?"
Taemin is horrified as a tear trickles down, unheeded by anybody else. It looks like a bright blue crystal in the light under the stage. "I'm tired, Taemin, I just...
"I want us back. I love you."
[Apologies are not necessary, though. Sometimes it's just a word, a phrase the other - or both - has wanted to hear all along.]
He loves me, Taemin shrieks to himself.
It's too late to say anything to Jinki - the platform begins to rise.
Jinki acts as if nothing's happened, as if everything's okay, but Taemin knows, now, that Jinki wants him to say it back, has wanted him to all along. He can't say it in front of thousands of people without knowing whether Jinki will understand the actual honesty and depth of his statement, so he does the next best thing.
Nearing the end, he picks Jinki up. It takes some huffing and Jinki falls down, but he keeps at it until Jinki's in his arms. He's actually, literally, in his arms, like a little princess. A pretty, breathtaken princess holding onto him for dear life with a shock of caramel curls and a breathy laugh that catches both their throats.
They've made it.
*
"Hyung, can you leave?" Taemin bites his lip, and Kibum rolls his eyes.
"This is what I'm here for? Moving around at everyone's will?"
"I'm sor - "
"Never mind," the other sighs, dragging his blanket and purposely bumping into Taemin harder than needed.
"You're the best!" Taemin calls after him, grinning.
Kibum mumbles a "Sure, keep it coming," before he drops onto the sofa and promptly falls asleep.
Jinki's hugging his knees, staring out the window. He can't see his face but he can guess that the other's eyes are red. There's some sniffs, too. "I love you, too," Taemin whispers quietly, and it carries across the room. "I feel weird, you know?" Jinki breaks out, voice uncharacteristically high, and there's a defiant rip of tissue as well. Oh, Taemin screws his mouth, in confusion and amusement.
"Why?" Taemin bounds onto the bed, purposely tapping Jinki's shoulder to make him look over at him. Jinki's eyes widen (yes, they were pink) and he sniffs hard in surprise.
"You're wearing my old shirt from high school soccer practise."
"Yeah."
"You... you fit."
"Of course."
"But still, you're all... grown up." Jinki's eyebrows slant down towards his ears, and he looks precious, really, all sad over something so silly. He even turns back to the window.
"Now, hyung, really?" Taemin chuckled, nudging his wet cheek with his nose. "I'm still yours, okay? I'm going to stay Taeminnie, and I'm not going to do that often. You're heavy."
"Okay," Jinki's voice is small, and his smile is smaller, but his shoulders are back up, and he manages a happy laugh, even if it's shaky.
"Come here," Taemin sits up on his knees and leans over.
Jinki turns around. "Hmm? Mmmf! Gmgmm."
[And when that's done...]
The next day, Jinki hugs him so hard he falls off the stage.
They don't mind, it's another excuse to hold hands.
this is the pick-up thing I'm talking about, this is the backhug. these are the couple shirts.
dedicated to hikarinoniji because she spazzed so much it made me want to do something naisu and also because I think she's coolio (y'all should, too).
prompted and beta'd byteastallpanda who is awesome so glorify her.
thanks to latosha unnie, anna, beth, jess for help with bananas/peanut butter/title and being wonderful \o/
there is now a part ii!