Call Me Oppa (4/?)
Title: Call Me Oppa (4/?)
Pairing: Onew/Taemin
Length: 3,047w (11,992 total)
Summary: "Some people are just unlucky."
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
C H A P T E R 4
Jinki's eyes were burning, sore from staring too long at the page. He had been working on the same question for almost half an hour, and the numbers were starting to look meaningless. He was too tired to focus on complex math, but stopping now would mean admitting defeat. Jinki erased the last line of calculations that he'd written and replaced the numbers. It still looked wrong.
There was a quiet shuffling at the end of the table, and then a low voice mumbled, "Hi, Jinki."
Jinki looked up from his page. There were vivid purple lines intersecting his sight, a negative image of the lined paper. Lee Taesun was standing with his arms crossed, eyes to the floor.
"Hi," Jinki echoed, confused. He had been under the distinct impression that Taesun didn't like him; since their conversation in the change room, Taesun hadn't said a word to him, not even a hello when they passed in the hall. Jinki didn't question it - he had maybe implied that he thought Taesun's little brother was cute. If Jinki had a younger sibling, he probably wouldn't take too kindly to declarations like that either.
"Do you mind if I sit?" Taesun asked.
"No, go ahead."
Taesun pulled out a chair and sat down. He dropped his backpack on the table and rested his arms on top of it, squishing it around like a pillow. "I have a favour to ask of you," Taesun said.
Jinki nodded; spit it out then.
"I have a science test on Friday, and I was wondering if you could help me study after school. I asked Minho and he said that you tutor."
"I tutor math," Jinki said.
"It's mathy science," Taesun insisted. "It's physics. And you can stay at my house for dinner."
Jinki bit his lip. He didn't have work until nine, and if he went over to Taesun's house there was a good chance that he would see Taemin as well. It felt a little sneaky agreeing to help Taesun just to get an opportunity to talk to Taemin outside of school again, but the guilt was outweighed by the curiosity. He wondered what Taemin's house looked like. "Okay," Jinki agreed.
"Thanks!" Taesun smiled, wide and toothy. He reached across the table to slap Jinki's hand. "Meet me at my locker after class? It's on the second floor, by 205."
"Yeah, sure."
Taesun stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. He tapped two fingers against his forehead in mock salute, and then left the library. Jinki looked down at his calculus notes again, but all he could think about was how much more interesting the numbers were when Taemin was doing the same questions next to him.
After class, Jinki waited for Taesun at his locker, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to get going. When Taesun finally showed up - "Sorry, my last class was in the basement" - Taesun laughed at his energy. "Hey man," he said, patting Jinki on the shoulder, "my mom isn't that great of a cook."
Jinki laughed it off, like yeah, that's why. His second wind had hit him during last period, that moment where his lack of sleep made him hyper instead of slow, and he couldn't keep still. It felt like it took forever for Taesun to shove his books into his locker and shrug on his coat.
At the front gates, Jinki paused and looked around. "Don't you walk home with your brother?"
Taesun side-eyed Jinki, and then said slowly, "Sometimes."
"Oh." Jinki tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He had imagined an elaborate scenario of the three of them walking together, where Taemin tripped and Jinki came to his aid in some spectacular fashion, catching him moments before he hit the pavement (although, realistically, it would more likely be Jinki doing the tripping). Obviously, Jinki watched too many romance movies.
There was more that Jinki wanted to ask, but he thought better of it. Taesun was already onto a new subject, and they walked the rest of the way to Taesun's house arguing about soccer strategies and which players would score at the next World Cup. Taesun didn't have much faith in the South Korean team.
The house that Taesun led them to was modest; a corner unit in a shared building. There was a low fence separating the yard from the walk, and all of the shutters were painted deep green. Taesun dug around in his backpack for a minute, emptying one of the pockets entirely, and then shoved everything back in, cursing. "Forgot my keys," he grumbled. He peeked in the window at the shoes lined up by the door, and then rang the bell. He knocked, and then rang the bell again without waiting for a reply. "He better not be wearing headphones," he said. He did it again, ring knock riiiing, ring knock riiiiing.
Footsteps thumped into the foyer, and then the door opened. Taemin didn't wait to see who it was, just turned on his heel and called over his shoulder, "Your keys are on the counter, pabo."
Taemin's hair was clipped into a messy ponytail; without the pins holding his hair in place, it looked a lot longer, some strands falling past his chin. His torso was swimming in an oversized sweater, off to one side to expose the heavy dip of his left collarbone. Jinki remembered the girl-Taemin from his dream, how her shirt had fallen similarly, and quickly looked down at the floor to hide his blush. Taemin's sweatpants stopped at the knee; it was bare skin down to his ankles. Purple socks this time, with a pattern of white hearts.
Jinki stepped out of his shoes, and Taemin turned around at the sound. He blinked for a moment, frowning in confusion - why are you here? Taesun kicked his shoes in the general direction of the rack and shouldered past.
"Dad's going to kill you," Taesun said. He swiped at Taemin's hair, and Taemin ducked away before he could grab the clip at the back.
"He won't," Taemin said. "I'll change before I get home."
Taesun just shook his head. He gestured for Jinki to follow him, and all three of them went into the kitchen. Jinki smiled at Taemin as he passed. "Hi, Taemin."
"Hi, hyung." Taemin smiled back. He went to the counter where he had been making a shake; there was a cherry pink mixture in the blender.
Taesun started unpacking his books onto the dining room table. He glared at Taemin's turned back, eyes narrowed. "Aren't you supposed to be at practice?" He asked.
Taemin turned around with his lips pressed together, pointedly ignoring the icy look from his brother. "Yeah, but it got bumped an hour later. Resealing the floors or something." Taemin took a gulp straight from the blender and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
"Go do something else, then. Me and Jinki are using the kitchen."
"But I'm eating," Taemin protested. "Want some?" He tilted the jug in offering, more towards Jinki than his brother.
"You've already slobbered all over it," Taesun said.
"Did not."
"Did too. If you really wanna be useful, get me a soda."
Taemin stuck his tongue out. He turned to Jinki, lapsing back into polite speech. "Did you want one, hyung?"
"Sure, thanks."
Jinki sat down across from Taesun, with his back to the window so that he had a view of Taemin as he bustled around the kitchen, filling two glasses with ice and grabbing a bottle of soda from the pantry. He twisted the cap on the soda, letting the air out so it wouldn't fizz over.
When Taemin brought it all to the table, Taesun waved his hand over his shoulder; shoo, go away. "I can pour for us, thanks," he said.
Taemin put the bottle down heavily. The soda fizzed and settled. His bangs hid his eyes, but Jinki could tell by the tightness in his mouth that Taemin was frowning, trying to bite his tongue.
"Go on, then," Taesun said.
Taemin sighed, wringing his hands. "Okay. Fine. See you, Jinki-hyung; Taesun."
Taesun rolled his eyes and flicked his fingers towards the door. With a sigh, Taemin turned around, hands balled into fists, and left. He padded up the stairs, and a moment later a door clicked quietly shut.
"That was a little harsh," Jinki said.
Taesun shrugged.
"What does he have practice for?"
Taesun started flipping through his physics textbook, marking the chapters that he needed to study. "Well, it's not really... don't laugh, okay?" Jinki nodded, and after a moment Taesun sighed, letting his breath out in a big huff like he was about to reveal the most embarrassing thing in the world. "He dances."
"Uh, okay. Why would I laugh at that?" Jinki wondered.
Taesun tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Well, you know. Taemin's a little..." He waved his hand back and forth; weird, unstable. He didn't finish the thought out loud. "Dancing is... well, it's not like soccer. My dad doesn't really like him doing it."
Jinki tried to picture what Taemin would look like dancing. He was a little too effeminate for hip-hop, too awkward for ballet. He didn't seem like the type who liked to be on stage, really. Too shy. "I think dancing would be harder than soccer," Jinki mused. He could kick a ball across a field, but lacked the coordination for much else, let alone dancing; that's why he played goalie.
"Taemin's pretty good," Taesun admitted. He frowned hard at the textbook after he said that, like it wasn't something he said very often.
"Must be. I think he kicks my ass at calculus too."
"That's because he has to get good grades so my dad will keep paying for his lessons," Taesun said. He slid his textbook across the table and pointed to the first question with his pen. "So unless you want me to get pulled off the soccer team, stop distracting me and tell me how to measure the potential energy for question three..."
Jinki spent the next half hour explaining electromagnetism to Taesun, drawing diagrams and acting out the role of electrons. He was about to go over the second-to-last question for the third time - Taesun just wasn't getting it - when a door slammed and Taemin stumbled down the stairs with a duffel bag over one arm. He had his cell phone propped on his shoulder.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" He moaned into the mouthpiece. He started pulling his shoes on with one hand, crushing the heels. "We'll have to re-do half the routine! That's gonna take ages!" He paused, listening to the voice on the other end. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Okay. See you in a few." He clapped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket. "Bye, Taesun-hyung. Bye, Jinki-hyung!"
"Bye," Taesun monotoned.
Jinki smiled. "See you tomorrow, Taemin."
Taemin smiled back, suddenly not so annoyed. "See you tomorrow, hyung," he echoed. He remembered that he was in a rush with a loud, "Ah!" and spun around on his heels. He grabbed his coat, and was still shrugging his arms into the sleeves as he lunged out the door. His footsteps clattered down the front steps and then he was gone.
Taesun crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow arched. "What was that all about?"
"What do you mean?" Jinki turned to stare out the window where Taemin had disappeared, hair whipping behind him as he ran for the bus stop around the corner.
Taesun raised his voice an octave, imitating Taemin's soft tone, and fisted his hands into the bottom of his shirt. He blinked hard, batting his eyelashes. "See you tomorrow, hyung~" he sing-songed. It was a rather accurate, if mocking, imitation.
Jinki shrugged, playing dumb. "How should I know?" But his insides started breakdancing; Does Taesun think Taemin likes me?
Taesun balked, but didn't press. He carded a hand through his hair and sighed. "C'mon, let's finish this before my parents get home. The actual potential energy of two charged particles is..."
It had been a while since Jinki ate a home-cooked meal. Mrs. Lee took a liking to him right away; she spent the majority of the dinner pushing food onto Jinki's plate and insisting that he eat more, you need to bulk up or you'll be cold all winter! Jinki was grateful that the Lees had only just moved, because when Jinki told them that his father was taking time off from his job as a middle school teacher they simply smiled, oh isn't that nice, and left it at that. No apologies, no condolences.
Taemin didn't get home until after dinner had been put away, and when he slinked inside after eight o'clock, he looked completely different from how he'd left. The oversized jumper and three-quarter sweats were gone, and so was the hair clip and heart-patterned socks. He wore loose jeans and a long-sleeved tee, hair pinned back. His feet were bare, and Jinki couldn't tear his eyes away from the strangely intimate sight of Taemin's toes flexing against the carpet. He had long toes; monkey feet.
Taemin noticed Jinki sitting on the couch and bowed his head slightly. "Hi, Jinki-hyung."
"Hi, Jinki-hyung," Taesun mimicked under his breath.
Jinki nudged Taesun in the ribs, be nice. "Did you get everything sorted out with your routine?"
Taemin looked confused for a moment, how did you know? Realization hit, and he squeezed his hands together. "Ah, yes! Kibum-hyung and I worked hard and got it mostly sorted out. We'll have it ready for regionals-" Taemin stopped abruptly. Barely audible he whispered, "Sorry, appa. I didn't see you."
Mr. Lee had been sitting in an armchair, watching the TV. He grumbled something under his breath and stood. He frowned; eyebrows furrowed, mouth tight. "Just don't let this stuff get in the way of your studies," he said. Without another word, he shuffled out of the room.
Taemin wavered for a moment, unsure. He looked like he was about to wilt away. His mouth was open, but no words came out.
Mrs. Lee breezed down the hallway, oblivious to the tension. She pinched Taemin's cheeks between her thumb and forefinger and kissed the bridge of his nose. "Taemin-ah! You must be hungry!"
Taemin gave her a smile like a sigh, wistful, devoid of anything that Jinki would consider a smiling kind of emotion. "I'm not feeling well," he said. "I'm gonna go to bed. 'Night, eomma." He waved over his shoulder. "Goodnight, Jinki-hyung, Taesun-hyung."
Mrs. Lee gave him another peck on the nose and then let him go. She watched Taemin go upstairs with his bag hanging heavy off his shoulder. She sighed, and came over to the couch where Taesun was sitting. She jabbed him in the back of the head with a pointed finger.
"You should be nicer to your brother," she chided. "Can't you see he's having a hard time?"
"Whose fault is that?" Taesun countered.
Mrs. Lee frowned, but she didn't push it further. She turned her attention to Jinki, smiling indulgently. "Taemin told me that you have a class together."
"Yeah, we sit together in calculus," Jinki said.
Mrs. Lee touched Jinki's shoulder, and leaned down to speak softly. "Please take care of him," she said.
Jinki wasn't sure where the sudden conviction came from, but he knew that he wasn't lying as he nodded his head and said, "Of course I will."
"You're a good boy, Jinki."
Taesun rolled his eyes. "Okay, eomma, you can go now."
Mrs. Lee pointed at her eldest son, eyes hard and unforgiving. "Don't start with me, Lee Taesun." She shook her finger, and then smiled like she knew that she was hardly threatening. Her kids had inherited that look from her; lips curling just barely, a slip of teeth, eyes sparkling. "You should walk Jinki home," she said. "It's getting late."
Jinki didn't live far, but Mrs. Lee insisted that Taesun should walk with him, at least halfway. It had rained earlier - at least it wasn't cold enough to snow - and everything was slick and shining under the streetlights, gutters swollen with run-off. Every car that passed tossed up a sheet of dirty water against their shoes.
Taesun walked with his head down and his hands in his pockets, kicking at loose stones on the road. Jinki fisted his hands into his sleeves. He was picking up on the sour mood from the rain and Taesun's silent scowling. They made it to the corner of the street before Jinki found it too awkward to take anymore.
"Something up?" He asked.
Taesun mumbled something into his jacket. Then, louder, he said, "No, not really."
Jinki balanced on the curb, arms out, and when the rock that Taesun was kicking bounced over, Jinki stole it and kicked it into the gutter. Taesun frowned, staring at the point where the rock had disappeared. "Bullshit," Jinki said, sing-song, wheeling his arms around to keep his balance.
Taesun shrugged and kicked a new pebble across the road. It richocheted off the gutter and into the gap in a manhole. "Damn it!" Taesun toed another pebble onto the road and dribbled it between the insides of his feet, not taking a chance on losing it this time. It sounded almost musical; the steady tap-tap of their feet and the tikka-tikka-tikka of the pebble jumping ahead.
"It's nothing serious," Taesun said, finally answering the question. "Just family stuff. You know how it is."
Jinki didn't know what to say to that. He had no desire to talk about 'family stuff'; inevitably, that kind of conversation would come full circle, and Taesun would only feel worse when he realized that Jinki had heavier 'family stuff' than an overbearing mother and disapproving father.
It was better to leave it alone. Besides, Jinki still had to get ready for work. He said goodbye to Taesun at the corner of his street, and hurried home. The lights were off when Jinki unlocked the door and went inside; it was barely eight thirty and his mother had already went to bed.
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wynnetimate's master list.
Pairing: Onew/Taemin
Length: 3,047w (11,992 total)
Summary: "Some people are just unlucky."
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3
C H A P T E R 4
Jinki's eyes were burning, sore from staring too long at the page. He had been working on the same question for almost half an hour, and the numbers were starting to look meaningless. He was too tired to focus on complex math, but stopping now would mean admitting defeat. Jinki erased the last line of calculations that he'd written and replaced the numbers. It still looked wrong.
There was a quiet shuffling at the end of the table, and then a low voice mumbled, "Hi, Jinki."
Jinki looked up from his page. There were vivid purple lines intersecting his sight, a negative image of the lined paper. Lee Taesun was standing with his arms crossed, eyes to the floor.
"Hi," Jinki echoed, confused. He had been under the distinct impression that Taesun didn't like him; since their conversation in the change room, Taesun hadn't said a word to him, not even a hello when they passed in the hall. Jinki didn't question it - he had maybe implied that he thought Taesun's little brother was cute. If Jinki had a younger sibling, he probably wouldn't take too kindly to declarations like that either.
"Do you mind if I sit?" Taesun asked.
"No, go ahead."
Taesun pulled out a chair and sat down. He dropped his backpack on the table and rested his arms on top of it, squishing it around like a pillow. "I have a favour to ask of you," Taesun said.
Jinki nodded; spit it out then.
"I have a science test on Friday, and I was wondering if you could help me study after school. I asked Minho and he said that you tutor."
"I tutor math," Jinki said.
"It's mathy science," Taesun insisted. "It's physics. And you can stay at my house for dinner."
Jinki bit his lip. He didn't have work until nine, and if he went over to Taesun's house there was a good chance that he would see Taemin as well. It felt a little sneaky agreeing to help Taesun just to get an opportunity to talk to Taemin outside of school again, but the guilt was outweighed by the curiosity. He wondered what Taemin's house looked like. "Okay," Jinki agreed.
"Thanks!" Taesun smiled, wide and toothy. He reached across the table to slap Jinki's hand. "Meet me at my locker after class? It's on the second floor, by 205."
"Yeah, sure."
Taesun stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder. He tapped two fingers against his forehead in mock salute, and then left the library. Jinki looked down at his calculus notes again, but all he could think about was how much more interesting the numbers were when Taemin was doing the same questions next to him.
After class, Jinki waited for Taesun at his locker, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to get going. When Taesun finally showed up - "Sorry, my last class was in the basement" - Taesun laughed at his energy. "Hey man," he said, patting Jinki on the shoulder, "my mom isn't that great of a cook."
Jinki laughed it off, like yeah, that's why. His second wind had hit him during last period, that moment where his lack of sleep made him hyper instead of slow, and he couldn't keep still. It felt like it took forever for Taesun to shove his books into his locker and shrug on his coat.
At the front gates, Jinki paused and looked around. "Don't you walk home with your brother?"
Taesun side-eyed Jinki, and then said slowly, "Sometimes."
"Oh." Jinki tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He had imagined an elaborate scenario of the three of them walking together, where Taemin tripped and Jinki came to his aid in some spectacular fashion, catching him moments before he hit the pavement (although, realistically, it would more likely be Jinki doing the tripping). Obviously, Jinki watched too many romance movies.
There was more that Jinki wanted to ask, but he thought better of it. Taesun was already onto a new subject, and they walked the rest of the way to Taesun's house arguing about soccer strategies and which players would score at the next World Cup. Taesun didn't have much faith in the South Korean team.
The house that Taesun led them to was modest; a corner unit in a shared building. There was a low fence separating the yard from the walk, and all of the shutters were painted deep green. Taesun dug around in his backpack for a minute, emptying one of the pockets entirely, and then shoved everything back in, cursing. "Forgot my keys," he grumbled. He peeked in the window at the shoes lined up by the door, and then rang the bell. He knocked, and then rang the bell again without waiting for a reply. "He better not be wearing headphones," he said. He did it again, ring knock riiiing, ring knock riiiiing.
Footsteps thumped into the foyer, and then the door opened. Taemin didn't wait to see who it was, just turned on his heel and called over his shoulder, "Your keys are on the counter, pabo."
Taemin's hair was clipped into a messy ponytail; without the pins holding his hair in place, it looked a lot longer, some strands falling past his chin. His torso was swimming in an oversized sweater, off to one side to expose the heavy dip of his left collarbone. Jinki remembered the girl-Taemin from his dream, how her shirt had fallen similarly, and quickly looked down at the floor to hide his blush. Taemin's sweatpants stopped at the knee; it was bare skin down to his ankles. Purple socks this time, with a pattern of white hearts.
Jinki stepped out of his shoes, and Taemin turned around at the sound. He blinked for a moment, frowning in confusion - why are you here? Taesun kicked his shoes in the general direction of the rack and shouldered past.
"Dad's going to kill you," Taesun said. He swiped at Taemin's hair, and Taemin ducked away before he could grab the clip at the back.
"He won't," Taemin said. "I'll change before I get home."
Taesun just shook his head. He gestured for Jinki to follow him, and all three of them went into the kitchen. Jinki smiled at Taemin as he passed. "Hi, Taemin."
"Hi, hyung." Taemin smiled back. He went to the counter where he had been making a shake; there was a cherry pink mixture in the blender.
Taesun started unpacking his books onto the dining room table. He glared at Taemin's turned back, eyes narrowed. "Aren't you supposed to be at practice?" He asked.
Taemin turned around with his lips pressed together, pointedly ignoring the icy look from his brother. "Yeah, but it got bumped an hour later. Resealing the floors or something." Taemin took a gulp straight from the blender and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.
"Go do something else, then. Me and Jinki are using the kitchen."
"But I'm eating," Taemin protested. "Want some?" He tilted the jug in offering, more towards Jinki than his brother.
"You've already slobbered all over it," Taesun said.
"Did not."
"Did too. If you really wanna be useful, get me a soda."
Taemin stuck his tongue out. He turned to Jinki, lapsing back into polite speech. "Did you want one, hyung?"
"Sure, thanks."
Jinki sat down across from Taesun, with his back to the window so that he had a view of Taemin as he bustled around the kitchen, filling two glasses with ice and grabbing a bottle of soda from the pantry. He twisted the cap on the soda, letting the air out so it wouldn't fizz over.
When Taemin brought it all to the table, Taesun waved his hand over his shoulder; shoo, go away. "I can pour for us, thanks," he said.
Taemin put the bottle down heavily. The soda fizzed and settled. His bangs hid his eyes, but Jinki could tell by the tightness in his mouth that Taemin was frowning, trying to bite his tongue.
"Go on, then," Taesun said.
Taemin sighed, wringing his hands. "Okay. Fine. See you, Jinki-hyung; Taesun."
Taesun rolled his eyes and flicked his fingers towards the door. With a sigh, Taemin turned around, hands balled into fists, and left. He padded up the stairs, and a moment later a door clicked quietly shut.
"That was a little harsh," Jinki said.
Taesun shrugged.
"What does he have practice for?"
Taesun started flipping through his physics textbook, marking the chapters that he needed to study. "Well, it's not really... don't laugh, okay?" Jinki nodded, and after a moment Taesun sighed, letting his breath out in a big huff like he was about to reveal the most embarrassing thing in the world. "He dances."
"Uh, okay. Why would I laugh at that?" Jinki wondered.
Taesun tugged at the collar of his shirt. "Well, you know. Taemin's a little..." He waved his hand back and forth; weird, unstable. He didn't finish the thought out loud. "Dancing is... well, it's not like soccer. My dad doesn't really like him doing it."
Jinki tried to picture what Taemin would look like dancing. He was a little too effeminate for hip-hop, too awkward for ballet. He didn't seem like the type who liked to be on stage, really. Too shy. "I think dancing would be harder than soccer," Jinki mused. He could kick a ball across a field, but lacked the coordination for much else, let alone dancing; that's why he played goalie.
"Taemin's pretty good," Taesun admitted. He frowned hard at the textbook after he said that, like it wasn't something he said very often.
"Must be. I think he kicks my ass at calculus too."
"That's because he has to get good grades so my dad will keep paying for his lessons," Taesun said. He slid his textbook across the table and pointed to the first question with his pen. "So unless you want me to get pulled off the soccer team, stop distracting me and tell me how to measure the potential energy for question three..."
Jinki spent the next half hour explaining electromagnetism to Taesun, drawing diagrams and acting out the role of electrons. He was about to go over the second-to-last question for the third time - Taesun just wasn't getting it - when a door slammed and Taemin stumbled down the stairs with a duffel bag over one arm. He had his cell phone propped on his shoulder.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" He moaned into the mouthpiece. He started pulling his shoes on with one hand, crushing the heels. "We'll have to re-do half the routine! That's gonna take ages!" He paused, listening to the voice on the other end. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Okay. See you in a few." He clapped his phone shut and shoved it into his pocket. "Bye, Taesun-hyung. Bye, Jinki-hyung!"
"Bye," Taesun monotoned.
Jinki smiled. "See you tomorrow, Taemin."
Taemin smiled back, suddenly not so annoyed. "See you tomorrow, hyung," he echoed. He remembered that he was in a rush with a loud, "Ah!" and spun around on his heels. He grabbed his coat, and was still shrugging his arms into the sleeves as he lunged out the door. His footsteps clattered down the front steps and then he was gone.
Taesun crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow arched. "What was that all about?"
"What do you mean?" Jinki turned to stare out the window where Taemin had disappeared, hair whipping behind him as he ran for the bus stop around the corner.
Taesun raised his voice an octave, imitating Taemin's soft tone, and fisted his hands into the bottom of his shirt. He blinked hard, batting his eyelashes. "See you tomorrow, hyung~" he sing-songed. It was a rather accurate, if mocking, imitation.
Jinki shrugged, playing dumb. "How should I know?" But his insides started breakdancing; Does Taesun think Taemin likes me?
Taesun balked, but didn't press. He carded a hand through his hair and sighed. "C'mon, let's finish this before my parents get home. The actual potential energy of two charged particles is..."
It had been a while since Jinki ate a home-cooked meal. Mrs. Lee took a liking to him right away; she spent the majority of the dinner pushing food onto Jinki's plate and insisting that he eat more, you need to bulk up or you'll be cold all winter! Jinki was grateful that the Lees had only just moved, because when Jinki told them that his father was taking time off from his job as a middle school teacher they simply smiled, oh isn't that nice, and left it at that. No apologies, no condolences.
Taemin didn't get home until after dinner had been put away, and when he slinked inside after eight o'clock, he looked completely different from how he'd left. The oversized jumper and three-quarter sweats were gone, and so was the hair clip and heart-patterned socks. He wore loose jeans and a long-sleeved tee, hair pinned back. His feet were bare, and Jinki couldn't tear his eyes away from the strangely intimate sight of Taemin's toes flexing against the carpet. He had long toes; monkey feet.
Taemin noticed Jinki sitting on the couch and bowed his head slightly. "Hi, Jinki-hyung."
"Hi, Jinki-hyung," Taesun mimicked under his breath.
Jinki nudged Taesun in the ribs, be nice. "Did you get everything sorted out with your routine?"
Taemin looked confused for a moment, how did you know? Realization hit, and he squeezed his hands together. "Ah, yes! Kibum-hyung and I worked hard and got it mostly sorted out. We'll have it ready for regionals-" Taemin stopped abruptly. Barely audible he whispered, "Sorry, appa. I didn't see you."
Mr. Lee had been sitting in an armchair, watching the TV. He grumbled something under his breath and stood. He frowned; eyebrows furrowed, mouth tight. "Just don't let this stuff get in the way of your studies," he said. Without another word, he shuffled out of the room.
Taemin wavered for a moment, unsure. He looked like he was about to wilt away. His mouth was open, but no words came out.
Mrs. Lee breezed down the hallway, oblivious to the tension. She pinched Taemin's cheeks between her thumb and forefinger and kissed the bridge of his nose. "Taemin-ah! You must be hungry!"
Taemin gave her a smile like a sigh, wistful, devoid of anything that Jinki would consider a smiling kind of emotion. "I'm not feeling well," he said. "I'm gonna go to bed. 'Night, eomma." He waved over his shoulder. "Goodnight, Jinki-hyung, Taesun-hyung."
Mrs. Lee gave him another peck on the nose and then let him go. She watched Taemin go upstairs with his bag hanging heavy off his shoulder. She sighed, and came over to the couch where Taesun was sitting. She jabbed him in the back of the head with a pointed finger.
"You should be nicer to your brother," she chided. "Can't you see he's having a hard time?"
"Whose fault is that?" Taesun countered.
Mrs. Lee frowned, but she didn't push it further. She turned her attention to Jinki, smiling indulgently. "Taemin told me that you have a class together."
"Yeah, we sit together in calculus," Jinki said.
Mrs. Lee touched Jinki's shoulder, and leaned down to speak softly. "Please take care of him," she said.
Jinki wasn't sure where the sudden conviction came from, but he knew that he wasn't lying as he nodded his head and said, "Of course I will."
"You're a good boy, Jinki."
Taesun rolled his eyes. "Okay, eomma, you can go now."
Mrs. Lee pointed at her eldest son, eyes hard and unforgiving. "Don't start with me, Lee Taesun." She shook her finger, and then smiled like she knew that she was hardly threatening. Her kids had inherited that look from her; lips curling just barely, a slip of teeth, eyes sparkling. "You should walk Jinki home," she said. "It's getting late."
Jinki didn't live far, but Mrs. Lee insisted that Taesun should walk with him, at least halfway. It had rained earlier - at least it wasn't cold enough to snow - and everything was slick and shining under the streetlights, gutters swollen with run-off. Every car that passed tossed up a sheet of dirty water against their shoes.
Taesun walked with his head down and his hands in his pockets, kicking at loose stones on the road. Jinki fisted his hands into his sleeves. He was picking up on the sour mood from the rain and Taesun's silent scowling. They made it to the corner of the street before Jinki found it too awkward to take anymore.
"Something up?" He asked.
Taesun mumbled something into his jacket. Then, louder, he said, "No, not really."
Jinki balanced on the curb, arms out, and when the rock that Taesun was kicking bounced over, Jinki stole it and kicked it into the gutter. Taesun frowned, staring at the point where the rock had disappeared. "Bullshit," Jinki said, sing-song, wheeling his arms around to keep his balance.
Taesun shrugged and kicked a new pebble across the road. It richocheted off the gutter and into the gap in a manhole. "Damn it!" Taesun toed another pebble onto the road and dribbled it between the insides of his feet, not taking a chance on losing it this time. It sounded almost musical; the steady tap-tap of their feet and the tikka-tikka-tikka of the pebble jumping ahead.
"It's nothing serious," Taesun said, finally answering the question. "Just family stuff. You know how it is."
Jinki didn't know what to say to that. He had no desire to talk about 'family stuff'; inevitably, that kind of conversation would come full circle, and Taesun would only feel worse when he realized that Jinki had heavier 'family stuff' than an overbearing mother and disapproving father.
It was better to leave it alone. Besides, Jinki still had to get ready for work. He said goodbye to Taesun at the corner of his street, and hurried home. The lights were off when Jinki unlocked the door and went inside; it was barely eight thirty and his mother had already went to bed.
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