Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

It’s been over a week since Jonghyun last saw Taemin, and now that he’s here in front of his eyes again, he can’t tear them away.

Taemin is staring at himself, too, eyes trained on whatever version of himself he sees in the mirror, holding still as hair noona parts his fluffy platinum strands, teasing them into place, dousing him in a cloud of hairspray so dense that it makes Jonghyun cough, even from across the room. This is the lightest hair colour Taemin has ever had, and when he first emerged from the hairdresser, sweatpants and barefaced and sleeping while he walked, all Jonghyun knew how to do was tell him that he looked like an angel. Taemin had furrowed his brow, dark expression to match the dark circles under his eyes, and said I don’t feel like one. My hair is so dry I think it could snap off. Jonghyun had been so desperate to use that pretence to slip his hands into Taemin’s hair, ruffle it about, just so he could say something stupid like You’re safe, Taemin-ah, it’s not going to fall out. But Taemin had looked so tired that a stiff breeze might have knocked him over, and Jonghyun was half worried that he might fall apart under his touch, so he kept his hands to himself.

Anyways. Jonghyun’s look today is simple while Taemin’s is anything but, but that just means Jonghyun gets to sit here and watch him without makeup noona telling him things like Look at me, Jonghyunnie, hold still, what’s gotten into you today? He folds himself into a chair in the corner of the green room and half-pretends to scroll Twitter as makeup noona goes to town with the eyeliner pencil, flaring the corners of Taemin’s eyes out into wings so pretty and dangerous that Jonghyun’s heart skips a beat every time he steals a glance in Taemin’s direction.

The background chatter inside the room begins to fade into fog at the back of Jonghyun’s mind as he watches Taemin, but there’s one word — or rather, name — that brings his heart slamming back into his chest and his thoughts crashing back into reality.

‘Hyunseok-ssi is dancing for EXO today, right?’ That was Kibum’s voice, painfully casual, forming the name of Jonghyun’s current least favourite person on the earth.

Makeup noona’s ears almost physically perk up at the sound of that name. ‘Isn’t that our Taeminnie’s boyfriend?’

Taemin’s expression barely flickers before he opens his mouth, the first word Jonghyun has heard him speak in minutes, and it makes his heart stop in his chest.

‘Ex.’

‘What?’

Jonghyun only realises he said that out loud when Taemin’s eyes snap to meet his through the mirror, another first in minutes, because he’s spent all this time silent in his seat and not even looking in Jonghyun’s direction and not telling Jonghyun any of the important things, like the fact that he broke up with the boyfriend he’s been seeing for the past six months.

Even now, he can’t answer Jonghyun. Kibum has to fill the silence instead. ‘You didn’t know?’

Of course I didn’t fucking know, if I did it would be different, I would be different, I’d be so happy you would have seen me skipping down the fucking halls.

Jonghyun ignores him to round on Minho. ‘What about you,’ he asks, trying to not sound anywhere close to as crazy as he feels. ‘Am I the only one who had no idea?’

Minho only sounds more normal in comparison when he says: ‘Jinki hyung told me last week.’

‘Jinki hyung? Last week?’ Jonghyun can feel his voice rising, heartbeat pounding, surprise-confusion-joy-betrayal, enough to make Minho try for an excuse, quickly adding:

‘He just asked me to keep an eye on Taeminnie, make sure he was doing alright.’ Because of course, because Jinki knows Taemin, and he knows better than to trust him when he says he’s doing fine. Which is what Taemin must have tried to tell Jinki, because he actually told Jinki about the breakup, even though their leader is resting at his parents’ home on strict doctor’s orders to not even speak. Somehow, he still knew before Jonghyun did.

‘I meant to tell you earlier,’ Taemin mumbles, finally, and then that’s all Jonghyun gets. He’s not selfish or crazy enough to think that he’s actually owed an apology, but that doesn’t stop his heart from beating up against his ribs as he waits for the knowledge to settle into his chest, his head spinning. That’s it. Taemin and Hyunseok broke up. Jonghyun will never have to pretend to be cordial with him again, never have to watch him pick Taemin up from the dorm, never have to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood whenever he sees that man pinch Taemin’s ass, never have to pray that Hyunseok doesn’t get transferred to SHINee’s dance crew, in case he was cocky enough to do that shit in the practice room, too. And maybe Jonghyun is getting ahead of himself, and sure, Hyunseok is still employed by SM, still a member of EXO’s dance crew, but if he has any shred of decency in him, he’ll stay far away from Taemin. If he tries anything more than that, Jonghyun doesn’t know what he’ll do.

Jonghyun has so many questions he wants to ask Taemin, too heavy under the harsh lights of the green room, questions like Was it him, did he dump you? and Does it hurt, Taeminnie, are you hurting right now? Six months is a long time, even if it doesn’t sound like it and You know he never deserved you to begin with, right? and Was it bad, was it messy, was it really hard? Your life has been so hard as it is, Taeminnie, I’m really sorry you’re going through all this shit.

‘You’ve never approved of his boyfriends, hyung, maybe he wasn’t ready to hear you talk shit about him yet.’ Kibum again. And Jonghyun can’t help it, it’s not his fault that Taemin picks the biggest losers on the face of the earth, but maybe Kibum is right. Maybe it’s too early for Taemin to hear that, maybe it will just hurt him more.

Jonghyun doesn’t know. It’s driving him crazy, how much he doesn’t know anything.

‘It’s not that,’ Taemin says, too quickly. And then, so rushed that Jonghyun almost misses it: ‘I’m the one that got dumped anyways, I don’t care what you say about him.’

Well. That answers that question, but also generates a hundred more.

‘Taeminnie,’ Jonghyun says, softly, helplessly, unable to hold it back. Taemin turns in his seat to face him, giving Jonghyun this weird look, like he doesn’t know what to do with him.

‘I’m fine, hyung.’ Shit. He’s worried that Jonghyun is worried about him, even though he’s the one who just had his heart broken. Jonghyun is the worst hyung ever.

Taemin turns back to the Taemin in the mirror, eyes hardening, all smokey eyeliner and glitter shadow and perfect lips pressed into a determined line. ‘I have bigger things to worry about, anyways.’ 

Ace. Danger. The solo debut that his life has revolved around since the moment it was decided, the choreography he practiced until it became a part of him, the debut stage he prerecorded at 2 a.m. this morning, and now this. The SMTown stage where he’ll show soloist Taemin to the world for the first time.

‘You’ll crush it, Taeminnie.’ Taemin doesn’t need Jonghyun’s reassurances, but Jonghyun can’t stop himself from giving them.

Jonghyun can sense that Taemin is about to fall back into his focused silence, no more words or hints for Jonghyun to hang off of, no way to search for some kind of indication of how he’s feeling. At least, that’s until Kibum remembers. ‘Hey, Taemin-ah, you never answered my question.’

Hyunseok is dancing for EXO today, right? In other words, will Taemin have to see him?

Taemin’s expression doesn’t change as he makes an affirmative sound, like he would have just chosen not to speak at all, if makeup noona’s precise work wasn’t preventing him from answering with a simple nod instead.

Seeing the look on Kibum’s face, Jonghyun can’t stop himself from warning him: ‘Don’t make this into a thing, Kibum-ah.’

The look sours. ‘I’m not making it into a thing, hyung, I was just curious. Don’t act like you’re not dying to ask the same.’

And apparently even Minho is dying too, because suddenly he’s asking Taemin, ‘Have you seen him since you two broke up?’

Taemin could tell them all to shut up and stop interrogating him about his love life, but instead he has the grace to answer with a short, ‘No.’ And before Kibum can open his mouth again he’s adding, ‘And I know what you’re all thinking, but seriously, it’s fine. He’s not— he’s not gonna freak out if he sees me, and neither will I.’

‘If he tries anything, Taeminnie, tell me, okay?’ Jonghyun is being so dramatic, but he ignores Kibum’s eye roll to keep his eyes trained on Taemin’s face, the elegant angles of his side profile. ‘I’ll take care of it.’

That gets Kibum to actually laugh, sharp and loud. ‘Taeminnie has one bad breakup and you start talking like a Yakuza boss.’

Taemin just gives Jonghyun that look again, the What am I going to do with hyung one. ‘I know better than to mix work and dating, hyung,’ he says, like that makes any difference, like he didn’t just spend half a year with someone who was only two choreographed steps away from being a coworker.

And that’s the other thing. ‘Does he?’

Jonghyun gets the words out while simultaneously trying to rescue his heart after it plummeted to the floor when Taemin didn’t even try to deny the ‘bad’ part, just glossed over it like he thought Jonghyun wouldn’t notice. And now Jonghyun is back to the things he’s so desperate to ask, to use his words to coax out Taemin’s until he has enough information to map out the state of his heart, assess the damage, try to work out what he can do to make it better.

For now, shutting up is probably the best he can offer, but that’s always been the hardest thing for Jonghyun, when it comes to Taemin.

Something in Jonghyun’s words makes Taemin stiffen. ‘He knows how much this stage matters to me,’ he says, sounding less sure than his words would suggest. ‘I don’t think he’d be that reckless.’

Jonghyun scoffs, and then speaks before he can think. ‘He broke up with you, who knows what other stupid things he’s capable of?’

Shit. He said that out loud.

Taemin doesn’t even bat an eye. Jonghyun doesn’t know if that makes things better or worse.

‘Now you’re the one stressing him, hyung.’ Maybe Kibum is right, and maybe Jonghyun is making everything worse, but the thing with Taemin is that getting him to talk at all can feel like hurting him, even if it’s what he needs.

‘This is Hyunseok-ssi’s job, too,’ Kibum continues, ever rational. ‘If he wants to keep it, he won’t be chasing his ex around backstage when he’s supposed to be working.’

‘I’m not worried,’ Taemin says, steadfast. ‘Not about him, anyways. I just want to focus on this stage.’

Is he using work to distract himself from his life again? He always sinks down into it — practice, rehearsals, performing — whenever everything else starts to fall apart. Even Jonghyun hasn’t worked out how to pull him back out.

‘You’ll be fine, Taeminnie, you were born for stuff like this.’ Minho this time, with his way of speaking that makes everything sound so certain.

‘We’ll all be cheering you on from backstage,’ Jonghyun can’t help but add, and keep adding, dumb stuff like: ‘Hyung will be watching on the monitor, so show your body well~’

When Taemin started going to the gym, Jonghyun had all these crazy thoughts, like what if his boyfriend was making him feel insecure, as if his body wasn’t perfect already, what if the shirtless photoshoot he did for the album only made him feel worse, what if what if what if, until Taemin told Jonghyun his plan for this stage, and then Jonghyun’s worries had to pivot from Taemin’s stupid boyfriend to planning his own survival.

For some reason, that’s the thing that gets Taemin to laugh. ‘Am I being crazy, doing this?’ he asks, to no one in particular. ‘What if people hate it? What if they think I’ve ruined my image, or something.’

‘What if people hate it? Taemin-ah, you should be more worried about how many ambulances they’ll have to call.’ Fuck, that was cheesy. Even by Jonghyun’s standards.

Taemin’s so used to it, he doesn’t even react, not even with his hyunggg face. ‘You know it’s not just about making people faint, hyung.’

Jonghyun knows, better than anyone else, maybe. The talks he had with Taemin while writing Pretty Boy are ones he treasures, for the time he spent with Taemin’s thoughts, the little pieces of Taemin’s life, his concerns and his insecurities and his dreams. He gave them all to Jonghyun, so carefully, trusting him to turn them into things he could say on stage. An anthem for who he wants to be, how he wants to be seen. Not a cute kid with nothing else going on, not a tough guy who turns his insecurities into violence, not a empty shell for others to project their judgements onto. Pretty and strong, confident and sensitive, more than he appears on first glance. Complex. Different from everyone else. Himself, Taemin.

‘I know, Taeminnie.’ But it’s not just him, not just Jonghyun. There’s a whole world of people out there who don’t see the Taemin he sees, not yet, no matter how much Jonghyun wishes they did, and had from the beginning. ‘They’ll know too, if they listen.’ Jonghyun feels a smile sneak onto his face. ‘You’re very hard to ignore.’

The corner of Taemin’s mouth creeps up, such a small gesture that Jonghyun would have missed it, if he was any less obsessed with Taemin’s face. ‘That’s all thanks to Heeyeon noona,’ he says, causing a grin to light up her face as she finishes the final touches on Taemin’s. He only thinks he’s bad with people because he doesn’t realise they’d never smile that big for anyone else.

Taemin loses himself in his reflection again before saying, almost to himself: ‘I look like a ghost.’

Jonghyun smiles. ‘Like a phantom thief?’

The name of Taemin’s title track. The song he’s about to introduce to the world. The version of Taemin that goes with it.

Taemin’s smile is ironic and just a tiny bit shy, meeting Jonghyun’s eyes in the mirror for a brief moment. ‘Something like that.’

———

SMTowns always pass in a frenzied blur of chaos, interspersed with long stretches of restless waiting backstage. Jonghyun tries his best to keep track of Taemin, who’s constantly being descended upon by his team, chasing him down for last-minute checks and fixing his makeup and pulling out the hair clips that he somehow forgot he was still wearing. His first stage is Green Rain with SHINee, and from there it’s hours and hours of performing one song at a time, facing the screaming fans for three minutes before going back to pacing backstage, leaving Jonghyun torn between wanting to give him space and wanting to hover by his side and remind him over and over that he’s got this, that the world isn’t even ready for what Lee Taemin is about to show them, that he could do his solo stages while sleeping and still bring the house down.

‘Hyung, stop looking at me like that.’

By this point in the setlist Taemin’s brows are permanently drawn together, cute little crease between his eyes, that worried expression he only gets when he’s really, really stressed.

‘Like what?’

‘Like you’re even more freaked out than I am.’

Instead of waiting for Jonghyun’s answer Taemin sinks into a stretch, pushing his hands into his thighs and sticking his butt out as he leans from left to right.

‘You don’t need me to tell you that I’m not, Taeminnie, you know I believe in you,’ Jonghyun says, helplessly. If Taemin didn’t, Jonghyun would have failed as his hyung, as a person.

Taemin doesn’t say anything, face twisting when he stretches further. A jolt of concern seizes Jonghyun’s heart, and he can’t help asking, ‘You’re not cramping, are you?’

Taemin shakes his head, hair falling in his eyes. ‘Just tight.’ His mouth twists with irony. ‘This is what I get for practicing too much.’

Taemin’s blessing, and his curse, is that he only knows how to work in extremes. Hours spent on the practice room floor, dancing complex patterns over its surface, repeating them over and over again until the choreography is under his skin and in his bones and he’s certain he could never get it wrong. Jonghyun’s watched him, always with awe and often with concern, praying that Taemin never pushes himself past that point he can’t return from. But he’s like a supernova, he can’t be contained, not by Jonghyun or Hyunseok or anyone else.

All he can do is tell Taemin things he already knows — and knows to ignore — things like, ‘You should listen to your body more.’

And Jonghyun should stop telling Taemin what to do, but everyone has their habits that they just can’t kick. It’s not like Taemin can do anything about it now, it’s not like he can just stop working when his debut stage, the moment he’s worked towards for his entire life, is only minutes away. Jonghyun is shitty for even suggesting it.

All Taemin does is make a face close to a grimace. ‘No point. It never tells me what I want to hear.’

‘What does it say?’ Jonghyun asks, not knowing where he’s going with this except that it’s far away from where he should be. ‘Love me more,’ he imitates, stupid whining aegyo voice that he already knows won’t make Taemin smile. ‘Be gentle with me. Let me rest.’

Taemin scoffs. ‘Gentle and me don’t really go together,’ he says, and leaves Jonghyun to come up with a response that sounds even halfway normal, because how the hell is he supposed to stay sane when Taemin says things like that.

‘At least try to care about yourself, Taemin-ah,’ is what he manages in the end. 

There’s no boyfriend around anymore to do that for you, although I doubt he was any good at it anyways. I could do it, if you’d let me, I’ve been doing it for nine years already. But it’s not the same, is it? There are things that only a boyfriend can do. Tease out the things you wouldn’t say to anyone else, hold you down until you admit to everything you’ve hidden from even yourself, make you see yourself the way they do. The way I do.

Hell, if what you want is for someone to be rough with you, I could do that too. But not to hurt you. Never to hurt you.

Was he gentle, Taeminnie? You just said that word doesn’t suit you. Have you ever considered that maybe it’s the other way around? That you were made to be cared for. Maybe no one’s ever shown you.

Maybe Jonghyun should shut the fuck up.

Taemin straightens with a groan, doing all these things to Jonghyun that he doesn’t even want to think about, not here at least. ‘I’ll care about myself when I can stop caring about this album.’

Taemin cares so much. He cares about his career, about his stage, about music, his music, what it sounds like, what it means to people. He agonised over his album the same way he’s agonising over this stage, fought for everything he could and compromised on what he couldn't, worked himself to the bone, then worked even harder.

Then Taemin grimaces. ‘Sometimes I wish I could stop caring, just for a minute. Let my body do all the work without my brain getting in the way.’

Jonghyun gets that so much it hurts.

‘Are you tired?’ It falls out of Jonghyun before he can even think to hold it back. It’s dumb, too— they both know Taemin has barely slept in weeks.

A cloud passes over Taemin’s face. Jonghyun really shouldn’t have asked. ‘What, can you tell?’ he asks, concern in his voice.

Jonghyun feels his voice soften. ‘Only because I know where to look, Taeminnie. I know your tells better than anyone else.’ He tries a smile. ‘The fans will be too busy screaming, anyways.’

‘I slept in the car after Music Core,’ Taemin tells him, like thirty minutes of uneasy sleep at three in the morning would make any difference to his body, to anything. ‘I never understood how you were able to, but I get it now.’

‘What’s the secret?’

Taemin smiles, so close to cheeky it almost fools Jonghyun into thinking he’s okay, but Taemin’s words give him away. ‘You just need to have no other choice.’

Jonghyun doesn’t even realise it was kind of weird of him to follow Taemin to his dressing area until he’s standing there in the corner, watching five different women help Taemin get ready like he’s some sort of prince. Which, he could be, easily, with a face like his, but that’s old knowledge to Jonghyun. Luckily for him the staff are all too busy to tell him to leave, and Taemin doesn’t tell him he’s being weird, so Jonghyun gets the privilege of biting the inside of his cheek and watching as one of the stylist noonas buttons Taemin’s shirt for him. If he’d been crazy enough to offer to help she probably would have told him something like Hands off, Jonghyun-ssi, the buttons on this one are designed to be ripped off but I’d have to kill you if you broke them before Taeminnie gets on stage. Instead, Taemin is as awkward with her as he would be with anyone, Jonghyun included, so there’s no point imagining if his reaction would be different if they were Jonghyun’s hands instead.

Crazy.

Someone’s holding a camera, Jonghyun realises, probably for some behind the scenes thing. He feels his irritation blooming, who the hell films in a dressing area, but Taemin doesn’t even seem to notice it’s there, too busy talking hurriedly with the hair and makeup team. Jonghyun only catches snippets, no time and it’s alright, just— and keep still, Taeminnie. One woman brings a makeup brush to his already perfect face while another blow dries his hair and yet another holds up his jacket for him to shrug on, black and red sequins that only make him look even more dangerous. The final look is electric, breathtaking, a newer version of Taemin that Jonghyun is busy trying to imprint onto his mind, as precious to him as all the others.

‘Ten minutes!’ The shout from the end of the hallway belongs to Taemin’s manager, reminding everyone of the seconds ticking down, ten minutes until the start of Taemin’s world.

On his way out, Taemin stops to check himself in the mirror, leaning in, tucking a bright white strand behind his ear. He stares at himself with a knife-point gaze, his eyes rimmed with black. He’s so beautiful that Jonghyun doesn’t even know what to do with himself, other than stand there and stare. He almost feels like he’s witnessing something he shouldn’t be, something private.

Taemin catches Jonghyun’s eye in the reflection, catches him in the act. ‘Hyung,’ he says, hint of surprise in his voice, like he forgot Jonghyun was there. Maybe he did. Jonghyun wouldn’t blame him.

Jonghyun can’t help himself. He never can. ‘You don’t even look real.’

Taemin’s eyes are determined, unwavering.

‘Good.’

Staff surround Taemin like moths to a light as he makes his way from the dressing area to backstage, Jonghyun among them, nothing left for him to do except haunt Taemin like a ghost, like the shadow to his vibrant flame. The white belt around Taemin’s thigh stands out against his black skinny jeans, emphasis on the skinny: earlier, Taemin had made some joke that wasn’t a joke about how the staff had to put it up a hole since the last fitting. Jonghyun tries not to think about what the belt’s placement reminds him of, tries even harder not to think about replacing it with his hand, wrapping around those soft thighs and digging into his skin. Taemin’s legs have always been one of Jonghyun’s many weaknesses, so long and slender and pretty, and those words should conjure an image of someone innocent and demure but Taemin’s proportions just make him all the more dangerous, and what the hell did Jonghyun just tell himself he wasn’t going to do?

Stop thinking about Taemin. Impossible, it’s his debut stage, that’s all that anyone is doing right now. Fine, at least stop thinking about how pretty he is. That’s like asking Jonghyun to stop breathing. Especially when Taemin looks like this. Start thinking about how he might be feeling, instead of yourself for five seconds? Doable. Maybe.

When they make it to just behind the stage, deafening screams, people and cables and scaffolding, Jonghyun finds the courage to ask Taemin if he even wants him around, if he’d rather be left alone instead. This is his stage, after all.

Taemin just gives him a confused look. ‘Where would you go?’

Jonghyun doesn’t have an answer, so he stays.

There’s a moment of not-silence, screams from the crowd and staff shouting at each other and footsteps hurrying, and then there’s Taemin’s voice again, cutting through to Jonghyun’s heart.

‘I’m worried I’ll be lonely, now.’

It’s so sudden and so honest that for a second all Jonghyun can do is blink. Is Taemin finally talking about it? Of course he’d pick this moment, minutes before he’s due to go on stage, perfect excuse to abandon Jonghyun the moment he dares to ask a question Taemin doesn’t want to think about the answer to. Jonghyun has to make this count. He’s spent every second since he found out about the breakup trying to work out what he’ll say to Taemin once he gets a second alone with him, but suddenly he can barely think at all.

‘There’s people you can talk to other than just him, you know.’ Like me, his heart screams, but that’s not the voice that gets to speak to Taemin. He needs to be Jonghyun hyung right now. ‘Boyfriends aren’t the only ones you can get strength from.’

Of all things, Taemin laughs. Which one is that? Short, breathy, not meeting Jonghyun’s eyes, hiding behind his fist. Definitely the hyung is stupid one. Shit.

‘I didn’t mean him, hyung. I meant on stage, without you guys. The members.’

Oh. Of course. Fuck, now Jonghyun looks stupid. And he brought it up, again. Him. When Taemin already told him, I have bigger things to worry about.

There’s nothing Jonghyun can do except move on. Don’t let Taemin dwell on it, in case it hurts him somehow. Does it hurt him, to think of Hyunseok? It’s only been a week, Jonghyun has had breakups where it took him that long just to work out how to speak again. But Taemin isn’t Jonghyun, he never has been. He’s his own mystery, one that Jonghyun is left to pull apart as gently as he knows how, although preferably at times quieter and calmer than this.

‘You’ll be so busy, you won’t have time to miss us.’ When that doesn’t get Taemin to smile, Jonghyun figures he should just stick to the things he can promise Taemin for certain. Like, ‘You know I’m always just a phone call away. Or you can text me.’ Which, yeah, Taemin knows how to use a phone. Jonghyun is just rambling now. ‘Honestly, I’d follow you to all your schedules if I could, if I didn’t know your team would kick me out as soon as they saw my face.’

Taemin’s lips quirk into a small smile. There. ‘Like a groupie.’ He doesn’t say sasaeng, and Jonghyun prays it’s because his obsession with Taemin doesn’t feel suffocating, intrusive.

‘Yeah, just without all the fun parts.’ It’s out there before Jonghyun can give thought to the hundred different reasons why he shouldn’t have said it, but before he can start he loses them all to the sound of Taemin’s giggle, an outburst so sudden and breathy, secret between the two of them. And maybe Jonghyun is crazy, maybe it’s just the backstage lights, but he swears there’s a dusting of pink on Taemin’s cheeks, in the tips of his ears. 

‘You’ve always been my biggest fan,’ Taemin says after wrestling his face back to normal, like he’s stating fact. Which, he is, Jonghyun has made sure of it. More than your useless ex-boyfriend ever was, Jonghyun can’t stop himself from thinking, and that was supposed to be his whole job.

When Taemin finds a boyfriend who’s spent nine years telling him that he’s talented and beautiful and like nothing they’ve ever seen, that he’s worthy of love and care and more fans than a hundred of these stadiums could ever hold, maybe then Jonghyun would consider defeat. But then again, that person would just be Jonghyun.

‘Mmhm, don’t forget me when you’re famous.’

‘I could tell you the same.’

If Taemin dares to apologise for debuting first, when he’s already made Jonghyun push those words back a hundred times… But Taemin doesn’t, and Jonghyun just has to hope that it’s because he’s finally accepted that he’s worth everything the company gives him, and more. Investing in Taemin might be one of the smartest things they’ve ever done, even if it was in their typically messy, unceremonious way. Taemin took all of that and made it into gold.

‘Save that for when it’s my turn. I’ll call you sunbaenim then.’

Taemin laughs again, like it was a joke, but Jonghyun is deadly serious.

‘So many people did, at the prerecording. It felt so weird.’ Taemin fiddles with the belt around his thigh. ‘And this thing fell off too, while I was dancing.’

A tiny accident that the people watching at home won’t even notice, too enraptured by Taemin’s movements, but one that will haunt Taemin all the same.

‘Even if it happens again, you’ll make it look like it was on purpose.’ Something takes control of Jonghyun’s body and makes him reach for the belt, just to test its hold, but it’s buckled snug around Taemin’s thigh, no chance for his finger to slip past it. ‘Nevermind,’ he says hastily, withdrawing his hand. ‘You’ll be fine, as long as it doesn’t cut off circulation to your leg, or something.’

Or something. Jonghyun is hopeless.

Taemin laughs in a sort of delay, like movement takes a second to return to his body, then comes out with something equally as stupid. ‘My leg isn’t allowed to fall off until I’m done with promotions.’

That again. Before Jonghyun can think of how to gently remind Taemin of all the things his body is good for other than just performing, in a way that doesn’t sound as dirty as that thought just did, he’s interrupted.

‘Taeminnie!’ Yeongseob’s voice again. It’s time.

There’s nothing Jonghyun could tell Taemin that he hasn’t heard a thousand times before, from Jonghyun, from anyone else who’s ever seen him and instantly realised how special he is. That he moves like no one else can, that he commands attention with a gravity so much stronger than his personality on first blush would suggest, that the world isn’t even close to ready for what Lee Taemin is about to bring to this stage.

Jonghyun sticks to the basics. This is Taemin’s moment, not his, even though that very fact makes it Jonghyun’s moment, in a roundabout way. Taemin’s achievements always feel bigger to Jonghyun than Jonghyun’s own.

‘Fighting, Taeminnie.’

Taemin is already being swarmed by his team again, doing last-minute touch ups, fixing his hair after Jonghyun made it fall into his face when Taemin laughed at all the stupid things he said.

‘You’ll watch, right?’ Taemin really must be nervous, that’s the only way he could forget that Jonghyun doesn’t even have a choice, that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Taemin even if he wanted to. God knows he’s tried and failed. ‘Tell me how I do.’

Yeah. Monitor. Jonghyun will definitely do that, because he’ll definitely be able to think once Taemin gets up there and starts dancing, and he’ll totally be in his right mind once Taemin tears his shirt off. But Taemin really means it, the way he really means everything when it comes to his performance, so Jonghyun just reassures him that he will.

As sure as he was just by his side, Taemin is gone, whisked away to some place backstage, and from that point on Jonghyun is no better than one of Taemin’s fans. The only difference is that he watches from the side of the stage, instead of in front of it. 

When his time comes, Taemin emerges in a cloud of smoke and a chorus of screams. Just for a second, maybe only to Jonghyun’s eyes, he looks so small, but that all fades away when the first notes of Ace ring out, and Taemin starts moving, and suddenly his presence is big enough to fill the entire stadium.

Ace is Taemin’s favourite track, and Jonghyun didn’t even need the choreography to see why. The song is pure sex, languid and free-flowing and oozing with understated confidence, the embodiment of a sly smirk or a gentle, sensual touch. Taemin moves like water, his expressions cool and unreadable even as he sings about blossoming in someone’s heart, showing them things they’d never even dreamt of, painting images that burst on Jonghyun’s tongue, vibrant and uninvited, making him fight just to hold them at a safe distance. Jonghyun knows they’re only Changmin hyung’s words, but hearing them from Taemin’s mouth, in his achingly familiar tone, leaves Jonghyun helpless to avoid thinking about the meaning hovering beneath them, the promise of a world that only Taemin holds the key to.

The first time Taemin went to stay the night at his first boyfriend’s place, he made up all these excuses: it was late, it was closer than going back to the dorm, he didn’t want to bother any of the others by asking for a lift. He didn’t have his license yet, back then. At some point it must have dawned on him that his parents’ place was only nearby, and then he stumbled more, blush creeping up his neck even as he tried to keep his voice casual, They sleep early these days, I don’t want to wake them up this late. There was never any reason to hide his intentions from Jonghyun, from the others, they all understood that Taemin wouldn’t find what he was looking for at his parents’ house, but that didn’t stop him from trying. Despite his best efforts, Jonghyun could read what Taemin wanted in every nervous glance he cast in his boyfriend’s direction, every awkward touch, the way his breath caught in his chest when that man’s fingers grazed over his thigh, so accidental it must have been on purpose.

And the whole thing would have been almost cute, if it didn’t light this awful fire in Jonghyun’s chest, set jealous flames licking at his heart. It had taken everything in him not to grab that man’s arm — Jonghyun pretends to have forgotten his name — and say something crazy like You better look after him or Hurt him and you’re dead, but that would have left Taemin to explain why Jonghyun was acting like a possessive father and not a hyung, one who shouldn’t give a shit who his dongsaeng sleeps with, even if it was Taemin’s first time, even if he does have a face that could so easily attract the wrong kind of attention.

Jonghyun didn’t know, at that point, why the jealousy felt like it was eating him alive. It was only after that moment that he started to realise.

That night was Taemin’s first, that Jonghyun knows of at least. To find out for sure Taemin would have to tell Jonghyun, or talk about his sex life ever, outside of the times when Jonghyun got drunk enough to ask him, only to be met with red ears and single-syllable answers and Taemin trying to change the conversation. Even then, Taemin always pretended afterwards like it never happened, probably because he thought Jonghyun was too drunk to even remember asking. Instead, the only glimpses Jonghyun gets are the ones he sees with his own eyes, in the way Taemin acts around the ones who have touched him in ways Jonghyun never has, or the way he moves to songs like this, pouring everything he hides from Jonghyun into its choreography, which Jonghyun is supposed to be monitoring, if he could resist the pull of Taemin’s movements for five seconds. It’s futile, he should just give in, but that would mean he’d have nothing to give Taemin when he comes backstage and needs to be told how well he did, in as much detail as Jonghyun can provide, so he needs to focus. Focus, and not forget how to breathe when Taemin drops to the ground, lithe and effortless. Focus, and not lose his mind when Taemin draws his hips back and thrusts, what the fuck, Taemin didn't warn him, he didn’t tell Jonghyun he was going to have sex on stage, he wasn’t prepared for this. Here he was, thinking Taemin was so closed off when talking about sex, and now he’s up there like he’s an expert, like he’s spent hundreds of nights perfecting every move. Jonghyun’s almost certain it’s a number less than that, but Taemin sells it completely, his movements as sure and enticing as his words.

Taemin’s statement to the world, a simple phrase that splits Jonghyun apart with everything it implies. I’m a little different.

Ace is over as quickly and smoothly as it started, fans erupting into cheers, and before Jonghyun can even begin to process everything he just saw, there’s a thumping bass, inside his head, echoing through the stadium. Danger has arrived, and so has Taemin, the phantom thief.

He bursts into action with a fiery energy, he hits every beat like it’s as easy as breathing. The sequins on his jacket catch the stage lighting and throw it across the stadium, his whole body sparkling, dark and ethereal all at once. The screams grow louder, fans already swept up in his performance, their hearts stolen away just like Taemin promised he would. The song is as infectious as Jonghyun remembers from every time he visited Taemin in the practice room, the bam-bam-bam as steady and constant as a heartbeat, stealing Jonghyun’s breath and leaving him frozen in place. Taemin’s shirt opens with every step, top buttons undone, flashing perfect smooth skin… what? Jonghyun hadn’t even noticed that Taemin had removed his tie, fuck, he’s so bad at his job. Taemin should have asked someone who likes him less. There’s no one in this building who hates him— well, maybe one person, Jonghyun can’t know for sure. He wonders if Hyunseok is watching, somehow, at a monitor somewhere. Part of Jonghyun hopes that he isn’t, a part that keeps growing bigger, especially after the final pre-chorus climbs to its crescendo and Taemin falls to his knees, crowd going wild, time slowing down.

Shit, Jonghyun can’t see from this angle. He crosses to one of the monitor screens, jaw clenched so tight he dimly registers it hurting. He holds his breath as Taemin shrugs off his jacket, tugs at his shirt, tearing it open effortlessly, just like noona said it would. Jonghyun doesn’t know how he has the ability to remember that right now, he doesn’t know how he has the ability to do anything at all. Fuck, Taemin’s nipples are so pretty. Shut up. Jonghyun needs to know if he’s ever let anyone lick them, pinch them, roll them between their fingers. Stop fucking thinking. There’s sweat shining all over Taemin’s torso, light catching on the perfect lines of his body. Jonghyun hadn’t realised until now how toned he’s become, tight little abs and the delicate curve of his pecs. Taemin never showed him, because why would he? He always turned down Jonghyun’s offers of working out together, too.

Hyunseok would have seen. Jonghyun hopes he got caught up backstage, he hopes there were so many people crowded around the other monitors that he couldn’t see a thing, and an even worse part of him hopes that he didn’t care enough to bother looking. That man doesn’t deserve to see Taemin naked now any more than he did when they were together, but that doesn’t change the fact that he already has. The thought of it makes Jonghyun’s head spin: Hyunseok’s hands all over Taemin’s body, in his hair, kissing Taemin and grabbing his ass far rougher than he had the nerve to do in front of Jonghyun, teasing out sounds from Taemin’s lips that he’d die before letting Jonghyun hear.

There are thirty-five thousand people watching Taemin in this stadium right now, but only a handful of people in the world who have ever done more than just look. And Jonghyun is stuck in some weird place between them, allowed to touch Taemin but only in the places that won’t make his ears turn red, allowed to tell him how much he loves him, but only up until the point where Taemin could write it off as Jonghyun hyung being Jonghyun hyung. That’s all that Jonghyun will let himself get away with. The alternative is too dangerous to even think about.

It’s just, Taemin is so perfect. Jonghyun doesn’t even know when he started feeling like this, only that one day he woke up and Taemin was all that he could see, all that he could taste and touch and feel and think about. He’s taken over his life, as quietly and suddenly as he entered it when they were just teenagers, but in all that time, Taemin has never looked back at Jonghyun. Jonghyun doesn’t blame him, how could he, when everything in front of Taemin is so bright?

Amongst it all, flashing lights and screaming fans and backup dancers, Taemin shines the brightest. The final chorus explodes, and the crowd erupts, and when the song is over Taemin stands there and breathes until the smoke swallows him up again and he disappears. Gone, like a ghost, as quickly as he had appeared.

A staff member laughs, and says something that Jonghyun thinks is directed at him. ‘That is definitely going on the DVD.’

Jonghyun hadn’t even realised that he was being filmed. He hadn’t seen anything, other than Taemin.

Taemin. Jonghyun needs to find him, before the next song steals him away again.

He dodges scaffolding and cables and staff on his way back to the hallway, turning a corner just in time to see Taemin running to his dressing rack. Still shirtless, white hair bouncing as he runs, arms crossed over his chest in an attempt at decency so coy that it makes Jonghyun’s heart squeeze. Taemin’s slightly embarrassed grin grows as staff and dancers tease him with oooh’s and whistles as he passes by, and Jonghyun has this crazy urge to shield him from everyone’s eyes, for no reason other than he selfishly wants this Taemin all to himself, nevermind the entire stadium of people outside. 

Taemin runs directly into a pit of makeup and costume staff, who immediately start attacking him with hairdryers and combs and makeup brushes. Then he turns, and notices Jonghyun, and suddenly he exists again.

‘Hyung! How did I—’

‘You did so well, you were perfect.’ It rushes out of Jonghyun before Taemin can even finish asking.

Taemin grins, eyes lighting up. ‘Really? I fucked up so many things.’ Taemin is breathless and glowing with sweat but he can’t stop smiling, the complete opposite reaction to what his words would suggest.

‘I didn’t even notice.’ It’s the truth, and only a tiny bit of a lie by omission. But the fans wouldn’t have noticed either, and for similar reasons too.

For once, Taemin doesn’t fight him on it. ‘It’s crazy out there,’ he says, excitement in his voice. ‘I feel alive.’ He looks it, too. Taemin is glowing, the energy radiating from him golden waves. This is what performing does to Taemin: it gets under his skin, tears down his shyness and his doubts, allows him to become the person Jonghyun has always known he is. A superstar, and one who’s still only at the beginning of what he’s capable of.

‘The crowd was going wild, they love you.’

Taemin shrugs on his leather jacket with the help of a staff member, silver hardware to match his rings and those cross earrings: one dangling from his left ear, the other stabbed through his right like a sword. ‘Pretty Boy is next, hyung. It’s your song, so you’re not allowed to miss it.’ His smile is so bright it could blind Jonghyun, burning him up and leaving him with a warmth that’s almost too much.

‘It’s yours, I wrote it for you.’ All Jonghyun’s words, the best he could think of to give him, his feeble attempt at capturing someone as impossible as Taemin. All of it is for him.

Taemin’s smile only gets stronger. ‘Remind me to pay you back.’

If they’re going to play that game, Jonghyun would have to start from the moment he met Taemin, all the things he’s given Jonghyun since then, and his debt to Taemin would be more than even a lifetime of meals could ever repay. ‘You don’t need to.’

Taemin is already walking away, talking over his shoulder. ‘I’m going to, so start thinking. I’m a soloist now, I can afford whatever you want~’

He’s so cute, Jonghyun almost forgets to run back to the stage to watch him perform.

———

After the show, Jonghyun’s work day doesn’t end.

SM booked out an entire restaurant, with tables and chairs enough for the whole roster of artists, plus managers and dancers and every other cog within the machine that keeps the entire production running. There’s no place Jonghyun wants to be less, but all careers have their unavoidable work parties, even this one. At least he has Taemin.

Taemin, who Jonghyun has to share with every other person in this room: this is his night, his debut, second in his life but no less monumental. He gets endless congratulations and pats on the back and more than a few comments about his stunt with the shirt, Jonghyun watching like a hawk in case anyone takes it a step too far. Taemin would tell him to stop overreacting, but that’s only because he’s so used to the weird things people say that they barely register anymore.

When he’s not trying his best to make eye contact when receiving compliments, or pretending like he’s not interested in the food laid out on the table in front of them, Jonghyun notices Taemin scanning the room. Looking for someone.

Jonghyun shouldn’t ask. He’s going to anyways.

‘Have you seen him yet?’ he asks in a low voice, but the noise in the venue is so loud he probably doesn’t need to. 

Taemin pauses, like he’s working out how much he’s willing to share with Jonghyun. ‘Jonginnie told me that he was asking after me, when they were practicing.’ Oh. ‘I don’t want to find him, I don’t want to talk or anything, I just—’

‘Really don’t want to run into him?’

‘Yeah.’ Taemin sighs, and Jonghyun hates Hyunseok even more. The last thing Taemin should be doing after one of the biggest moments of his career is wondering if his ex is going to confront him while he’s having celebratory barbecue. If anything, he should be having celebratory sex— nope, no way, there are so many more important things Jonghyun needs to be thinking about right now. Starting with: who the hell does Hyunseok think he is, trying to get to Taemin through Jongin? He must have paid no attention at all, to miss how close those two are. Either that, or he’s desperate enough to know that and still try regardless.

None of that means that Jonghyun needs to say this next thing, but that’s not enough to stop him.

‘Stick by me tonight, Taeminnie.’ Jonghyun takes a breath, trying to keep his voice light, and this is a normal thing to say, just looking out for his dongsaeng, why is his heart racing? ‘I won’t let him come near you.’

Jonghyun prepares himself for Taemin’s embarrassed laugh, his defensive frown, his insistence that It’s fine, hyung, I can handle this on my own. What he gets instead, he doesn’t have a script for.

‘Okay.’ Taemin gives Jonghyun a small smile, like he’s trying hard to be casual about this and almost, almost succeeding. ‘That would be good, actually.’ He debates with himself for vicious seconds before coming out with a, ‘Thanks. Sorry that he’s ruining everything.’

Jonghyun barely had time to celebrate his little victory before he goes back to wondering how on earth he can make all of Taemin’s problems go away, if only just so that he’ll stop sighing in that dejected way that makes Jonghyun’s heart ache. ‘Don’t be. His actions aren’t your fault.’ He lets himself lift a strand of white hair away from Taemin’s face, making Taemin flick his eyes up to meet Jonghyun’s. ‘And don’t thank me, either. It’s the least I can do.’

Taemin just looks at Jonghyun, trapping him in his eyes. What’s that expression? Jonghyun can’t work it out, but in all the time he spends fixed on Taemin’s face, he registers something else.

‘You forgot to take your makeup off,’ he says, dumbly.

It’s like his words snap Taemin out of some kind of reverie. ‘Oh, yeah,’ he says, sounding like he isn’t surprised at all. And then, out of nowhere: ‘Do you like it?’

Does Jonghyun like it? Is the sky blue? Is Taemin’s hair whiter than the moon on a clear night? The answer is obvious, but it’s the act of asking that sets this fluttering feeling alight in Jonghyun’s chest.

‘Mm. You look like a fairy.’ Taemin gives him another unreadable look, maybe It was supposed to be sexy, hyung, and Jonghyun doesn’t know how to explain that fairies can be sexy without diving deep into specifics that will make Taemin give him weird looks, so he just adds, ‘A scary one.’

That seems to satisfy Taemin, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jonghyun wonders if the pink in his cheeks was makeup noona’s doing, too. If it was, she deserves a raise for how real it looks.

‘You guys have the right idea, hiding out here in the corner.’

Taemin’s head whips around, no more pretty eyeshadow for Jonghyun. The source of the voice is one of the album production staff who worked on Ace. Kim Wonhyuk. His shirt is two buttons loose at the collar and his face is flushed, probably something to do with the bottles of soju he’s holding in each hand. ‘Mind if I join the quiet table? I bring offerings.’ There’s a chorus of Of course, not at all from the others at the table.

Wonhyuk sighs, sounding more than a little relived. He looks at the table, the chairs, realises there’s no empty ones left, and then his eyes land on Taemin. The youngest.

He pauses for a second, before asking, a little apologetic: ‘Do you mind moving, Taeminnie? Hyung is old.’

Taemin springs up instantly, even though only five minutes ago he was telling Jonghyun about the ache in his legs. It’s only manners, tradition, but tradition is far less important to Jonghyun than the tired look in Taemin’s eyes, the way exhaustion pulls at his limbs as he stands there awkwardly and wonders what to do now that his only seat is gone, dragged away by Wonhyuk and his soju.

Tradition can get fucked, for all Jonghyun cares. But before he can even open his mouth to ask Taemin if he wants Jonghyun’s spot instead, hyung will just sit on the floor and let everyone tell him he’s crazy for letting a dongsaeng walk all over him like that, Taemin takes it for himself. Takes Jonghyun, or rather makes Jonghyun take his weight, settling down soft and so much lighter than he should be across Jonghyun’s thighs. Jonghyun disguises his gasp as a laugh, and he thinks he makes some stupid breathless comment like Do I look like a chair to you? Jonghyun doesn’t even know, he can barely hear himself think, let alone talk. Taeminnie. Taeminnie.

‘I’m too big now, right? Too heavy.’ Taemin laughs, easy as anything, normal and fine and this is fine, Jonghyun is fine.

‘Nope, you’re perfect.’ Jonghyun doesn’t know how he even gets the words out when his head is spinning like this. He makes it all worse by looping his arms around Taemin’s waist, lies by telling himself it’s just in case he loses his balance and falls, as if the person who dances for a living couldn’t handle perching on Jonghyun’s legs.

Please don’t be joking, Taeminnie, please stay like this.

Taemin laughs in a way that sounds like he doesn’t believe Jonghyun. ‘I used to hate being carried, but now you probably couldn’t even if I wanted you to.’

Jonghyun makes an offended face, ignoring what that thought does to his body. ‘What do you think I work out for?’

Taemin laughs, sillier this time, wobbling in Jonghyun’s lap. ‘Definitely not for me, that’s for sure.’

He means Jonghyun’s exes. Somehow, he still hasn’t processed that it’s been a year since Jonghyun’s last relationship ended, but he never stopped going to the gym. ‘Or for your fans, you haven’t shown them in so long,’ Taemin adds.

‘They’re patient~’ is all Jonghyun says about that. ‘Yours must be going crazy, after today.’ I definitely am, and I’m the number one, so if I’m anything to go by, you must have caused mass hysteria.

‘I didn’t get time to properly ask you, about monitoring,’ Taemin says, suddenly. ‘Did you really not catch anything?’

‘It was perfect, Taeminnie, seriously.’ You were, so perfect I couldn’t take my eyes off you for a second, and neither could anyone else. But Taemin will want specifics, as always, to assist in picking himself apart, adjusting split seconds until he’s even more perfect than before. ‘You didn’t miss a beat, even if you think you did, I promise no one noticed.’ You were so hot, I’ve never seen you like that, it’s new to everyone and they couldn’t get enough. ‘Your shirt came off perfectly, I was so worried, but you looked really sexy~’ Your nipples are so pretty, your waist is deadly, I wanted to kiss every inch of your stomach, how can you make having abs look so cute and dangerous at the same time, it’s not fair. ‘And your body…’ whatever Jonghyun does, do not say those thoughts he just had out loud— ‘your body looks really good. You never told me you got so toned.’

Good. Normal. Passed with flying colours.

Taemin’s laugh is a little bashful, a shot of dopamine straight to Jonghyun’s brain. ‘You were surprised, right?’

Surprised doesn’t even begin to cover it. ‘I think I screamed louder than your fans. You couldn’t have warned me? I knew you were working out, but still.’ Still.

Taemin laughs again, and he’s so close that Jonghyun feels it in his chest. ‘Honestly, I still have no idea what I’m doing. The gym is so intimidating.’

Instead of saying You could have gone with me, Jonghyun opts for: ‘Well, you must be doing something right.’

To prove his point, Jonghyun can’t stop himself for reaching for Taemin’s abs, safe wall of his t-shirt between them. They’re so firm under his fingers, and fuck, maybe that wasn’t as safe as he thought. He’s not thinking at all. Even less so when Taemin make an indignant noise and wriggles away from his hand, pushing deeper into Jonghyun’s lap. Think of something normal to say, goddamnit. ‘I remember your abs used to be all soft and cute,’ is all he can come up with, neither safe nor normal. Try again. ‘You worked really hard, Taeminnie.’ There, better, closer to something a Jonghyun hyung who isn’t insane would say.

Taemin frowns. ‘I wish I’d worked out more. Before the album photoshoot, I mean. The director forgot to warn me about the shirtless stuff.’ He laughs, an empty sound. ‘I guess that’s my fault for not caring about my body until now.’

Jonghyun’s heart pangs, but that conversation is for a different time, a different place, so instead he says the only other thing he can think of, which is, ‘When you first started going, I was so worried it was because of him.’

What? That was one of the things he was never supposed to say out loud.

Instead of telling Jonghyun to stop being stupid, Taemin just laughs, almost a scoff. ‘I don’t think he cared if I worked out or not, as long as I wasn’t getting fat.’

Red. Jonghyun thinks he’s seeing red. It’s hard to tell, when the explosions going off inside his head are blinding him.

‘Every time you talk about this guy, you give me ten more reasons to hate him,’ Jonghyun manages to say. He hopes his words are only half as ugly as this feeling taking over his body, tries to fight it away, in case it infects Taemin in any of the places where their bodies touch. Which feels like everywhere, Taemin warm and soft in his lap, in a way that that useless bastard will never feel again, God and Jonghyun willing. ‘Why were you even with him in the first place?’

‘He liked me,’ Taemin says, simply, but without meeting Jonghyun’s eyes. ‘He wanted me.’

‘You or your body?’ It’s out there before Jonghyun can even think about how uncalled for it was, how it might make Taemin feel: dirty, or used, or a billion other things that he should never have to feel.

Is that all there is to love? Being wanted? Jonghyun wants Taemin, so badly. Maybe he’s no better than the person he hates.

‘Does it matter?’ Taemin’s tone isn’t defensive, just matter-of-fact. Somehow that breaks Jonghyun’s heart more.

The answer is so obvious to Jonghyun that it takes him a second to process the question. ‘Of course it does,’ he says, softly.

Jonghyun doesn’t know what causes it, maybe it’s something in his voice, but Taemin’s expression shifts. ‘Whatever,’ he says, quickly. Too quickly. Not pissed off, but wanting to move on. Shit. Jonghyun has fucked up, for the millionth time today. What else can he try?

He eyes the table, the food laid out across it. Taemin’s always hungry, especially when he says he’s not. Even more so when he’s sad.

Is he even sad? It’s worth a try, either way.

Jonghyun reaches for his chopsticks, going straight for the beef. No carbs, not yet, that will be a harder sell, knowing what Taemin is about to say.

‘I’m on a diet.’

Jonghyun just holds the food closer to Taemin’s peach-pink lips, trying to entice him. It smells really good, and he knows Taemin is thinking the same.

‘Mm. For your performance today, which is over now.’

Taemin gives him a look, split down the middle of frustrated and desperate. Jonghyun makes an encouraging face. Taemin sighs, then takes everything Jonghyun offered him in one clean bite, chewing, then almost whimpering with happiness. Jonghyun can’t hold back a laugh.

‘SM picked a good restaurant this time, they must have sold more tickets than last year.’ Jonghyun is just talking to talk, already reaching for more meat. Taemin follows Jonghyun’s chopsticks with hungry eyes.

Taemin almost bites Jonghyun’s hand off when he gives him the next mouthful, but then he’s saying, through his bites, ‘You eat too, hyung.’

Jonghyun’s bowl is empty, bottle of soju that he reluctantly accepted from a senior still unopened next to it. He’s not allowing himself to drink tonight, not when Taemin needs him sober. His promise to look out for him was a genuine one, and he can’t do that while he’s drunk off of half a bottle. He’ll just have to hope no one notices.

‘Aigoo, you take good care of hyung.’ Jonghyun gives himself a small piece, mostly to make Taemin happy. The only thing he feels any real hunger for are the adorable sounds Taemin makes when he eats. They’re so cute, intoxicating, and they make Jonghyun forget how to think at all.

Did he think you were cute when you’re eating like this? Did he lose his mind over just feeling your body heat, your elbow digging into his chest? Did he even see the same Taemin I see, or were you just a thing to him, to be played with and then thrown away when he decides you’re too much work? No one should ever treat you like that, Taeminnie.

Did you let him? All that shit I saw him do with you in public, all the touching, you never seemed happy about it. If he was trying to claim you then, how would he react now?

In other words, ‘What will your ex-boyfriend think, if he sees us like this?’

It’s out before Jonghyun can keep it inside his head, another question he’s not supposed to ask, because there’s not supposed to be anything scandalous about this, at least not in a world where Jonghyun isn’t in love with Taemin, and Taemin isn’t in love with him. Even if Taemin keeps wriggling deeper into his lap, even if Jonghyun is desperately trying to pretend like he’s not getting hard, even if all he can think about when Taemin wraps his soft, obedient lips around Jonghyun’s chopsticks is how much he wishes they were his fingers instead.

I’m just a hyung to you, no matter how close we get. But to him… he must see me as another man, right?

Taemin shifts in his lap, like he’s hesitating, and then all he says is, ‘Does it matter?’

That seems to be his favourite question, lately. ‘I don’t know. Does it matter to you?’

Do I matter? Jonghyun can’t make himself ask. Does this mean something to you? It means so many things to me, but if I confessed to any of them you’d never look at me the same way. That’s what matters, to me.

‘This’ is nothing more than Taemin sitting in Jonghyun’s lap because he’s tired and the room is crowded and he’s been using Jonghyun for physical support since he was fourteen, and letting Jonghyun feed him because he’s hungry and he’ll only ignore his diet if someone makes him feel like he has no other choice. Still, Jonghyun’s heart is racing, and still, he hangs on to Taemin’s every word like he’s waiting for something. What, he doesn’t know.

‘I don’t care what he thinks,’ Taemin says, and Jonghyun can’t tell if that answers his question or leaves him with ten more. I wasn’t asking what he thinks, Taeminnie. I was asking about you. Before Jonghyun can make things so much worse by telling him exactly that, Taemin is adding, like he’s just realised it: ‘But… it always felt like he wanted to show me off.’

A tiny breakthrough. ‘He gets jealous, you mean.’

Do you want to make him? Is that what this is? Everyone can see us right now. It makes heat rush through Jonghyun’s body, even if it really shouldn’t. Would Taemin even do that? He’s never been vindictive, more the type to bury his feelings and move on. Maybe Jonghyun is terrible for even thinking he’d do that, but he can’t help it.

If you want to, if you need to use me to hurt him, Taeminnie, it’s okay. I’ll let you. Even if it’s killing me. If it makes you feel better, it’s worth it.

Jonghyun didn’t even need Taemin to tell him that Hyunseok was possessive, he’s seen it with his own eyes more than enough times. Jonghyun always hated how risky he was, how often he kissed Taemin in places where all the wrong people could see, how he could never keep his hands off him. At one point, Taemin kept complaining to Jonghyun that Hyunseok wouldn’t stop pestering him to hang out with all his friends, It’s not like he doesn’t know how busy I am, hyung, I don’t get it.

Taemin shrugs. ‘If that’s the word you want to use.’ Then he laughs, not meeting Jonghyun’s eyes again, like there’s some joke that only he’s in on. ‘I think he liked dating me because I’m famous, but the irony was, there were only so many people he could brag about it to. If he was smart, he would have chosen someone who’s allowed to date.’ In half a breath he adds, ‘If he was even smarter he wouldn’t be into guys either, but he’s got no more control over that than I do.’

Jonghyun’s heart squeezes, then shatters at Taemin’s words. All he can think of is to tell Taemin the same thing he’s been telling him for years, and hope that the words haven’t started to sound empty. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you liking men.’

‘I know,’ Taemin replies, in a voice that says he means it. ‘It’s just hard.’

Too sad. More food.

‘Well, you were right about one thing, just then.’

Taemin gives Jonghyun an inquisitive look.

Jonghyun tries to smile a little. ‘He’s definitely an idiot.’

Taemin smiles in a way that’s almost a small laugh, huffing and turning away from Jonghyun’s gaze as if he’s embarrassed, leaving him with the soft curve of his cheek, his pretty lips. ‘You said that already.’

Back in SHINee’s green room. He broke up with you, who knows what other stupid things he’s capable of? Of course Taemin remembered. 

‘Mm, and I have no problem saying it again. He’s an idiot, and blind, and he didn’t deserve you.’

Again, Taemin replies with something Jonghyun didn’t expect: ‘Then who does?’

Ah. That’s harder to answer.

When Jonghyun tries, ‘I haven’t found him yet,’ it feels like taking the coward’s way out.

‘Make sure to tell me when you do, or I’ll be solo forever.’ It sounds like it was supposed to be a joke, but Taemin isn’t laughing. Before Jonghyun can backtrack, Taemin hits him with something even worse, splitting Jonghyun’s heart in two so casually, around a mouthful of rice.

‘You know that when you say stuff like that, you make it sound like I’m doomed to be stuck with people who don’t deserve me?’

Oh.

‘At least find someone who knows that they don’t. Then they can spend their whole life trying to make up for it.’ That’s so much worse? Why does Taemin even put up with Jonghyun, at this point.

Taemin wrinkles his nose, so cute even when Jonghyun is floundering, barely keeping his head above water. If he clings to Taemin, he’ll drown too. ‘That doesn’t sound like love.’

‘Right? Maybe that’s why hyung is still single too.’ Because I know my whole life still wouldn’t be long enough. Ouch. That was bad, even by the low, low standards of Jonghyun’s usual inner monologue. This whole conversation is going south, and if Jonghyun isn’t careful he’ll only end up making Taemin feel shittier than he already does. 

The only thing Jonghyun knows how to do is keep feeding Taemin, and try to fix things with his words, somehow, although it’s not like they’ve gotten him anywhere useful so far.

‘I’m sorry, Taeminnie, I keep bringing him up. It’s okay to tell hyung to shut up.’ It was a low tactic to say that while Taemin’s mouth is full of beef, making him have to shake his head instead of replying properly.

‘You’re not mad at me?’ Another shake. The slight curl the stylists gave his hair is so pretty.

‘Do you want more beef?’

A nod.

Jonghyun can do that, at least.

Taemin finishes his mouthful just in time to open for the combo of rice and beef that Jonghyun gives him, and then his eyes are widening and he’s laughing, ‘Hyung, are you crazy? That’s too big, I can’t just break my jaw—’ Fire blooms in Jonghyun’s stomach as Taemin does what he just said was impossible and takes it all in, pink lips stretching, soft cheeks bulging, panicked sounds as he struggles to manage it all, fuck fuck fuck. Jonghyun is insane, Taemin will end up choking and it’ll all be because of Jonghyun’s selfish desires. He always pretends it’s for Taemin’s sake, feeding him because he won’t feed himself, but Jonghyun can’t hide from his own feelings, especially the way his stomach flips when Taemin makes those noises he reserves only for moments of food-induced joy. Or at least, he thinks he reserves them? If Jonghyun thinks too hard about whether he sounds like that when he—

Jonghyun has to intervene in his own thoughts by dragging his eyes away from Taemin’s mouth, over his shoulder, and that’s how he makes eye contact with him. Leaning against the wall at the back of the restaurant, not talking to anyone, staring directly at Jonghyun.

A face Jonghyun knows well, though he wishes like hell that he didn’t. Backwards cap over short hair, too-strong jawline, slightly faded tattoo ink showing from under a black t-shirt that’s deliberately too tight. A man Jonghyun grew to despise so much that he even started hating the fact that their names share a syllable. 

Park Hyunseok.

Shit. It’s too late for Jonghyun to look away now, even if he knows he should, that he shouldn’t want to cause trouble, that he shouldn’t want to make this man jealous, that Taemin isn’t Jonghyun’s as much as he isn’t Hyunseok’s.

He doesn’t care.

He’s being so crazy.

He has Taemin in his lap and Taemin’s ex-boyfriend staring him down. He’s going to hold his ground.

I dare you to find something wrong with this.

Hyunseok looks pissed, even though he’s obviously trying to pretend like he’s not, lips pressed into a thin line. How much did he see?

A big part of Jonghyun hopes it was everything.

He’s mine, you bastard. Maybe not in the way Taemin was Hyunseok’s, but at least Jonghyun isn’t relegated to the past tense. That’s all you’ll ever be. Always part of his past, never his future.

‘Hyung?’

Of course, Taemin would be the person to make Jonghyun look away.

‘Mm?’ Jonghyun tries to shake off the feeling of Hyunseok’s piercing gaze, but it stays with him, a shadow looming on the edge of his vision.

Taemin looks like he was going to say something else, but then he narrows his eyes a little. ‘Are you okay?’

With the way he’s angled in Jonghyun’s lap, Taemin can’t see Hyunseok over his shoulder. Should Jonghyun tell him? If he does, he doesn’t know what Taemin will do. Maybe he’ll leave, and Jonghyun will be without him again. Selfish.

‘Mhm. Just… tired.’ Jonghyun’s such a shitty liar, it’s a miracle Taemin doesn’t read him like a book.

It’s enough, though, because Taemin goes on, ‘I was gonna ask, can you let me go?’

Jonghyun hadn’t even realised his arms were looped around Taemin’s waist again, even tighter than before. ‘Oh, sorry,’ he says, on automatic. Once he’s done as he was asked, Taemin wriggles out of Jonghyun’s lap and onto his feet, and suddenly Jonghyun feels so empty that it’s not even funny.

‘Where are you going?’ He fights to keep the disappointment out of his voice, because he’s fine, it’s not like he has an actual claim on Taemin, and he definitely doesn’t already miss the warmth of him in his lap, the comforting weight of his presence, his familiar scent. Who is he kidding? Jonghyun is hopeless for him. He misses Taemin even when he’s standing right in front of him.

‘Bathroom,’ is Taemin's unceremonious answer. ‘Seeing as you won’t stop feeding me.’

Before Jonghyun has time to make some stupid comment like That’s not how your digestive system works, Taeminnie, or to entertain the darker thoughts that haunt the back of his mind, rising to the surface whenever Taemin mentions dieting or his weight, he’s already gone, weaving through tables towards the back of the restaurant.

The back of the restaurant. Hyunseok. Shit!

When Jonghyun looks, Hyunseok is already up and moving, heading towards the same door that Taemin just went through. Fuck!

Jonghyun stands. Hyunseok doesn’t even see him, already disappeared through the door after Taemin. The other people at Jonghyun’s table notice him, though, and they give him perplexed looks as he leaves without explanation, trying to cross the restaurant as fast as possible without looking like he’s rushing.

He barely makes it halfway before he hears, ‘Ah! Jonghyun-ah, there you are—’

Not now, not now, Taeminnie, later, need to get to Taeminnie—

‘PD-nim!’ Jonghyun pulls out what he thinks is his most amicable fake smile, and if he looks a little insane he can blame it on all the soju he never drank. ‘Sorry, but this is actually a really bad time—’

‘Is it? I had something important I wanted talk about with you.’

Shit shit shit. ‘Important’ is a word that’s lost all meaning to Jonghyun, unless it’s about Taemin. Jonghyun needs to fucking think.

‘If it’s important, can we talk about it later? When you’re less busy.’ How the hell does that even make sense as an excuse, Jonghyun is the one standing here panicking. ‘Like tomorrow, or— or some other time.’ The future couldn’t matter less to Jonghyun right now. This is taking far too long, who knows what’s happened to Taemin, so far out of Jonghyun’s reach. Probably nothing, realistically, he knows Hyunseok isn’t completely insane, but still. Jonghyun promised Taemin.

Before PD-nim can even answer, Jonghyun is saying things he’d never imagined saying to someone so senior in the company, like: ‘You know what, Jungho hyung knows my schedule way better than I do. Talk to him and he’ll sort it out.’ He can’t even believe what he’s saying, and the rushed ‘I really have to go, sorry,’ he tops it off with does nothing to help, but then it’s in the past and he’s free and he’s made it through the door towards the bathrooms before he can even think. No signs of anyone, except some rookie who’s had far too much to drink. Jonghyun will just have to be a shitty sunbae and ignore them in favour of taking the only other door he can see, which spits him out onto wet asphalt below a balmy summer night’s sky.

Still no one. Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic. He hears the low hum of the industrial kitchen, cars at the street end of the restaurant, water dripping from a gutter into the alleyway he’s standing in. And,

Voices.

Too low and distorted to make out words, but Jonghyun would know Taemin’s voice anywhere. His heart goes into free-fall as he follows the sound, quietly, even though his instincts are screaming at him to burst in there and pull Taemin away.

He reaches the corner of the building, hovering behind it, and that’s when sounds become words, ones that seize Jonghyun’s heart and leave him frozen in place.

‘Is this some kind of game? I mean, sitting in his lap? Feeding you? Seriously, Taeminnie?’

Hyunseok’s voice. Jonghyun knows it from every unfortunate encounter he’s ever had with him, from SM hallways to late nights outside the dorm. Right now, he sounds as angry as he had looked when he and Jonghyun had their staring contest.

‘Why do you care? We broke up already.’ Taemin’s voice is helpless, exasperated.

‘Don’t play dumb, Taemin-ah, I know you’re trying to make me jealous. If this is your plan to get me back, it won’t work.’

That’s rich of you, to think he would ever want you back, or to see you again at all.

‘I’m not trying to make you anything.’ The frustration is clear in Taemin’s voice. He was already so tired, even without a loser ex-boyfriend who won’t leave him alone.

‘Then why can you do that shit with him, but you always refused with me?’

There it is. Jonghyun should have known. He did. He should have cared. He didn’t.

‘It’s different with Jonghyun hyung. It’s not— it’s not like a relationship thing.’

Hyung isn’t my boyfriend. It shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t feel like anything.

It does.

‘Then why the fuck was he staring me down like some kind of guard dog? It’s humiliating, Taemin-ah. Everyone knows we were together and now you’re getting cozy with some other guy— no, your own bandmate.’

Taemin is silent for a moment. Seething? When he rages, he can’t speak. But then again, he’s the same when he despairs. Avalanches of emotion tend to silence him, which Hyunseok would know, if he ever mattered enough to make Taemin feel anything this strongly, until now, now that he’s dragged Taemin all the way out here just to yell at him.  

When Taemin speaks, his words are quiet, controlled, and all the more painful for it. ‘You’re just mad you can’t treat me like your trophy anymore.’

That hits Jonghyun straight in the chest, so direct it almost bowls him over. Somehow, it’s so much stronger than any of the variations of fuck you that Jonghyun is dying to deliver to Hyunseok’s face.

There’s a devastating split-second of silence, and then:

‘Better than everyone treating you like a slut,’ Hyunseok hisses.

Jonghyun’s vision goes red, and his patience shatters. He’s heard more than enough.

‘Don’t fucking speak to Taeminnie like that.’

Jonghyun says it after turning the corner, just in time to watch it hit their faces, both of them freezing in place, Taemin almost backed against the wall in an attempt to escape the way Hyunseok is standing over him. The latter’s expression is caught between anger and shock, while Taemin just looks bewildered. Jonghyun wishes he could have shouted it, even though he hates raising his voice, but Taemin’s privacy is so much more important than Jonghyun’s anger.

It takes Hyunseok a second to remember how to use his face, but then it quickly morphs into a look of contempt, his eyes hardening. ‘Speak of the fucking devil,’ he snarls. ‘When I’m not sharing him with his fucking work, I’m sharing him with you. Do you always trail after him like this?’

Hyunseok is taller than Jonghyun, but he’s not about to let that stop him from staring him dead in the eyes. ‘If dickheads like you would leave him alone, I wouldn’t have to.’

Even then I’d still look after him, just to be near him, because I love him, but I doubt that’s something you’d understand. To love someone even if they don’t love you in the same way. To give without expecting anything back.

Hyunseok fumes. ‘This is none of your business, hyung. Taeminnie is a grown man, he doesn’t need you to rescue him.’

Taemin looks from Hyunseok to Jonghyun. His body language is so tense, like he’s trapped. Jonghyun just wants to get him out of here.

‘What he does with his life is none of yours, either. You have no right to tell him what he needs.’

I know him better than you ever will.

‘Hyung, it’s okay—’ Taemin can’t even finish his sentence, his voice worried, before Hyunseok cuts him off with a stunned laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

‘I’m just trying to fucking talk to him. Is that allowed? Do you even know how crazy you’re being right now?’

Maybe he’s right, maybe Jonghyun is, but there are things he knows are objective truths, unable to be contorted by anger or jealously. Like the fact that no one should ever call Taemin that word, or anything like it.

And the fact that he’s had enough, and he wants out.

He holds out his hand, ignoring Hyunseok and holding Taemin’s gaze instead.

‘Come on, Taeminnie, we’re leaving.’

So many people telling him what to do, what to think, how to feel. Jonghyun can only hope that just this once, he’s okay with doing as Jonghyun says.

He only wants to hurt you, Taeminnie. Don’t stay here.

Taemin’s hesitation only lasts a second. He takes Jonghyun’s hand, warm and soft in his own, he even lets Jonghyun lead him behind his back, putting himself between Taemin and Hyunseok. The latter’s face is busy collapsing in on itself, an implosion of shock and confusion and anger.

Jonghyun turns. He has no parting words for someone like him.

Taemin takes a little longer.

‘Taeminnie, come on, you’re not actually going to—’

Jonghyun feels a tiny twinge of satisfaction. He was wondering if Hyunseok would ever start pleading. Most guys are the same, in the end.

‘Don’t try to call me, hyung, please, it’s over.’

Taemin turns back to Jonghyun, and finally, they can go.

Of course, Hyunseok’s voice follows them out.

‘Sure! Fine! Run away from me, Taeminnie, the way you always do.’ Jonghyun squeezes Taemin’s hand, doesn’t look back, focuses on putting one foot in front of the other. His heart is still pounding.

‘Good luck finding someone new when all you care about is fucking work! Maybe you should just fuck Jonghyun hyung instead, that’s basically the same thing.’

Taemin doesn’t even flinch.

Fuck, Hyunseok is such a loser, he’s shouting so loud that anyone could hear. Does he even know how dangerous that is, that he could bring Taemin’s whole life crashing down with just a few words? He must. He just doesn’t care. He never did.

‘Lee Taemin!’

That one had barely any heart in it, more of a last-ditch effort.

‘Just ignore him, Taeminnie,’ Jonghyun whispers, like Taemin wasn’t doing that already. Jonghyun steals a glance and finds Taemin’s face blank, his eyes firmly fixed on the street ahead of them. They don’t waver.

They turn into the lane that leads to the street, and Jonghyun has a crazy idea.

‘Run with me?’ he asks, before he can think twice.

Taemin doesn’t even answer, he just goes, and leaves Jonghyun to cling on to his hand as he tries to keep up.