a/n: sorry for taking so long to post this! this was originally a long poem that developed into a 2.6K oneshot, so please forgive me if it’s oddly choppy ;A; anyway i hope you guys like it c:

They’re at an airport and although they’ve done this thousands of times, Taemin can’t help but to let his mind wander off.

They’re all waiting for their flight, stuck in the boarding area, discreetly trying not to catch anyone’s attention. 

Currently, they are alone, and them being shinee, makes moments like these hard to come by. These instances happen in small little seconds, but rarely does Taemin actually get the chance to let himself daydream hours away, filling the slow morning with wishful dreams.

This particular airport is filled with light grays and stark whites and although that’s to be expected, Taemin can’t help but to find himself feeling the taste of disappointment on his tongue. It’s the sliver of time before sunrise, before the clouds are dipped in red and orange, right now the world is a deep, inky blue. The only things that shine are the airport lights outside and the fluorescent lighting indoors. 

The overhead lights flicker on and off every now and then, and briefly Taemin wishes to be engulfed in complete darkness. Just so he could see the how the soft neon glow from outside creeps up their window, before scattering as it hits the floor.

The lights are the main reason why Taemin loves traveling at night. When it’s just one, maybe two in the morning and their flight is just taking off. Just as you climb upwards, you can see the entire city, just right underneath your fingertips, and Taemin thinks it’s nothing short of breathtaking.

And sometimes, when Taemin’s extra tired, he can pretend for a moment, that the city lights are just distant stars. And that the highway lines are left over trails of cosmic dust. And that Taemin isn’t really Taemin, he’s just a sentient being floating through space and time, flickering between dimensions and galaxies at his leisure.

But that’s not happening today. 

They’re flying at around six thirty-ish. Probably seven.

Much too early to think about rocket ships and the distant cosmos.

Currently, it’s around four in the morning, and almost no one is here.

There’s a girl sleeping in the corner, clutching her carry-on like a pillow. There’s two guys in the middle section, one of them is silently sipping his coffee while the other one is typing something up on his laptop.

A report maybe? An email?

Taemin can’t tell from his seat all the way in the back. It probably doesn’t matter.

The problem with this whole—thing, this set up, is that all five of them are sat right next to each other, close enough that they knock knees. And of course, Minho has to sit next to him.

It’s around four in the morning and Minho’s sleeping on Taemin’s left, his leg is pressed flush against Taemin’s, while his right elbow digs into Taemin’s side. There’s a soft temptation for Taemin, to just turn his head just a little, and unabashedly stare at Minho, to memorize all his little features, like that scar on his cheek. Or that cute little birthmark Minho has on his chin. 

Taemin doesn’t turn, obviously. He doesn’t allow himself the pure embarrassment of blatantly staring at Minho, because it’s not like he hasn’t done it before. And really, he should stop, because after a while Minho’s eyelashes start to look impossibly pretty, and Taemin can’t stop himself from thinking that Minho’s mouth looks soft and plump, and warm, and maybe just too perfect when it’s kissing Taemin’s cheek. 

And Taemin refuses to spend anymore time thinking over Minho, because soon he starts imagining Minho awake—and he imagines Minho holding his hand for a bit, maybe they watch a movie together. Minho would probably laugh in the middle of it, making Taemin laugh consequentially. They would spend the rest of the day in soft laughter and gentle chatter that twists itself into deep conversations about anything really, because Minho always allows himself to be pulled into Taemin’s fuzzy dreams.

It’s awfully sweet of him actually, how he never really stops Taemin. 

So Taemin tries not to think about Minho.

(he tries and obviously fails, but he won’t ever really admit it. not to himself anyway)

Taemin distracts himself by listening to Jinki tapping his foot against the carpeted floor. The rhythmic taps are followed by the sound of Kibum sorting through his book bag and Jonghyun discreetly chewing on some ships. Outside the airplane engines hum a certain melody that sounds like white noise, but it’s warmer and somehow comforting. Distantly, muffled through the window, there’s someone on the runway backing their truck up. Taemin sees the light flashing more than he hears it, but it adds to the general ambience anyway.

Taemin makes a mental note to ask for some of Jonghyun’s snack stash later, because Jonghyun always buys that chocolate-strawberry candy Taemin loves. And he doesn’t really say anything when Taemin eats more than half the box.

After a while of staring at a certain column in the middle of the room, Taemin finds there’s a certain rhythm to the air around them. It’s awfully normal, awfully mundane. It’s anxious and repetitive, like someone drumming their fingers against a desk while simultaneously holding their breath.

It’s like something that’s waiting to happen.

Minho shifts a bit in his seat, until his head lolls to one side and he doesn’t quite have his head on Taemin’s shoulder, but if Taemin were to scoot upwards a bit, it would be.

He can feel his skin sprout goosebumps whenever Minho exhales and it feels exhilarating and horrific at the same time. Taemin keeps his breath trapped in his lungs, unsure if he should let it go or make any movement at all. Because he’s acutely aware of Minho’s proximity, of just how close he really is. Taemin isn’t sure if he wants Minho closer, or if he wants to get up right now from his spot and gently persuade Jinki to switch with him. Because Taemin’s a bit spoiled but that’s alright.

On Kibum’s right, Jonghyun opens up another bag, Jinki yawns.

And Taemin stills just as Minho moves once again, this time away from him.

Taemin lets out a huff of disappointment, crossing his arms and focusing on the father that’s gently cradling his sleeping child. He’s been pacing up and down the terminal for the last thirty minutes and all Taemin wants is for him to just sit down.

A couple moments tick by and the sky starts getting just a tiny bit lighter. It starts at the very edges of the world, and it’s not enough to chase away the artificial lights just yet. Outside, people start waking up, drinking their morning coffees and standing in place as their minds are startled back into the upbeat pace of soft daylight.

And as Taemin wanders off into thoughts about breakfast, Minho’s hand creeps dangerously close to Taemin’s.

And It comes as a sudden epiphany when he realizes he wants Minho closer.

Taemin tries pushing the sensation down, moving his hand to his lap. It doesn’t work much, but it serves as a small little barrier. A precaution.

After a while, his stomach growls, startling Kibum. He asks Taemin if he want’s his last granola bar. It was strawberry flavored with yogurt coating the bottom. It was Minho’s favorite and Taemin wants to kick himself over how his mind always flutters back to Minho.

Taemin nods and as he chews roughly on the cereal bar, he starts remembering small fragments of multicolored memories. Memories that were a bit glazed over, a bit blurry.

He thinks back to late nights where Taemin would sneak into Minho’s room, when they were a bit older yet still incredibly young. Minho was always really warm, it was like he held a little sun inside himself, trapped in his ribcage. And Taemin remembers crawling underneath Minho’s covers, and just falling asleep, together. Because they were young and scared and very reckless. Still reckless. 

Taemin plays around with the thought of Minho grabbing his hand, right as they walk to their baggage claim. He wonders if Minho would want him back, if Minho would hold his hand as tightly as Taemin would.

His mind flitters back to the last couple of months. 

Maybe a couple of years or so Taemin would have actually done something, said something. But lately Minho’s just been busy. He’s suddenly everywhere at once, and Taemin doesn’t see how he can even begin to catch up. Because Minho is kind and earnest and sweet, in everything and with everyone. Suddenly Minho wasn’t shy and quiet, he was funny and outgoing, suddenly he had more friends than ever before and Taemin can’t help but to feel left behind.

Because Minho wasn’t ever really distant. He was just. Busy. With everyone else except him, apparently.

And it eats up at Taemin a bit inside, because while younger Minho would give Taemin a sort of off tilted smile that was a bit sheepish and way too authentic not to coo over, older Minho would smile like that to anyone.

Taemin doesn’t really know what he’s up against.

Doesn’t really know how all of this would play out.

If you could call their mostly one sided relationship a thing.

And even if something were to happen, nothing could really happen. It would be too complicated, too stretched out over a thin surface, too delicate. A flower can’t quite bloom if it’s smothered, and Taemin doesn’t want to let go of the friendship he has with Minho. He’s scared honestly, more scared than he’s ever really been. 

After a while of staring at the ceiling for a bit, letting his mind waltz around soft, nostalgia laced memories, Taemin decides it’s best to let things stay the way they are. It’s frustrating with a hint of something melancholy, but Taemin figures it’s for the best.

The best for shinee as a whole, really.

As another hour trickles away, Taemin starts chewing on his fingernails, trying to keep his mind buzzing while keeping thoughts about Minho at bay. He’s so immersed into himself that he doesn’t notice Minho opening his eyes. He doesn’t notice Minho squinting a bit before smiling at Taemin’s focused expression. As Taemin’s gaze falls to the gray specked design on the carpeted floor, he doesn’t notice Minho moving closer.

“I can hear you think.” Minho says, low and incredibly close to Taemin’s ear.

And Taemin nearly jumps from his seat, whipping his head to face Minho.

“God, don’t scare me like that.” Taemin scolds, awkwardly trying to shift away from Minho, because they were too close and Minho looked a little larger than life at this moment. When he was still a little tired and very uncaring of anyone else except them.

“Sorry.” Minho says, giving Taemin a sleepy but content smile.

“You’re not.” Taemin responds, leaning back in his seat and wondering how would Minho react if he just laid his head on Minho’s shoulder.

A couple more inches closer and it would be done.

“Alright, I’m not. You love me anyway though.” Minho says, and it’s too early in the morning for Minho to keep up appearances anymore. 

Taemin can feel his heart clench a little at Minho’s awfully noticeable sincerity and Taemin has no idea what to do with it. Nodding absentmindedly, Taemin directs his attention to the display board in the middle of the small waiting area. 

One hour and thirty minutes until they board.

Minho sighs then, it’s heavy, like it pressed forcefully against Minho’s lungs before gently letting go, escaping through his lips like a small whisper.

Taemin blinks, slowly. He blinks and the world gets a little fuzzy and distorted just as Minho pressed Taemin’s face into the crook of his shoulder. Because Minho’s always been a little audacious, a little too daring.

“Sleep.” Is what Minho says after Taemin tenses up, “I know you’re tired.”

And Taemin swallows thickly, feeling guilt rise up his throat when he finds himself enjoying Minho’s attention a little too much. The feeling only intensifies when Minho lays his head on top of Taemin’s. Like it’s supposed to be there.

Like it’s only supposed to be just them two, together. Like they’re the only ones in the whole airport, and Taemin feels like they are. He’s trying miserably to hide the shy pleasure that overcomes his face, but there’s just something about the way Minho always makes him feel like he’s home. Even in an unknown airport, a layover that lasts for a couple hours too long.

And then in the quiet of the morning, Taemin hears Minho softly hum. Well, he feels it more than anything. Minho’s neck vibrates with sweet and calming notes, they’re more gentle than Tuesday nights, when they both have to be at the dorm, and both their schedules finish after midnight. They would go out to eat then, alone. And Minho would joke around and Taemin would loosen up a bit, because in the soft ambiguity in the night they can be whoever they want to be.

They don’t have to be shinee’s Taemin and shinee’s Minho. They can just be.

They would come back to the dorm a dazed and a little too giddy for the late night hours. And for now Taemin’s alright with that.

He supposes things are okay.

As Taemin sighs into Minho’s neck, heavy and light at the same time, Minho’s soft little tune falters the slightest bit. It picks up when his hands find Taemin’s though. He gives Taemin’s fingers a reassuring squeeze, and he whispers,

“I’m here.” don’t leave me behind either.

And Taemin fights back a smile, hoping he doesn’t look like an idiot when soft rose colors the tips of his ears.

But then he feels Minho’s heartbeat pick up just the slightest bit when Taemin presses his lips onto Minho’s collarbone, and it is enough for Taemin to finally fall asleep.

—

When Taemin wakes up, the world is a lot brighter. Instead of the monochromatic, grayscale colors that the morning brought in, the world was a lemony yellow with flecks of dusty pink and streaks of lilac.

The sunrise is beautiful, Taemin thinks as he rubs the drowsiness from his eyes.

There’s something less, catastophe-like in the air now. Taemin feels somewhat invincible right now, like there’s a fire in his bones and something electric like running through his veins.

He feels like he can take on the whole world now.

There’s more people waiting to board their flight now, an entire airplane full. Hundreds of different faces, all with their own dazzling color melting in the the rush of daybreak. After a while, the sound of a bell filters through the airport speakers, crackly yet clear as their flight name is called.

Jinki stops texting, Jonghyun stands up while searching his book bag for his passport. Kibum stretches before grabbing his boarding pass, cracking his knuckles out of pure habit. Bags are ped, people start getting up, the chatter level rising up a bit, and everything becomes much more louder, much more alive.

Taemin’s still somewhat dazed when Minho stands in front of him. Minho’s staring right back at him, and Taemin can’t help but to think about how beautiful and brown Minho’s eyes are. The sunlight from the window outside hits them in such a way that they turn from a gorgeous sepia to a brilliant russet brown. They look like nature after it’s rained and Taemin thinks it’s absolutely beautiful.

“You ready?” Minho says, his voice hopeful as he holds out his hand.

And Taemin stares up at Minho, feeling a smile play on his lips, because yes, he is ready. He’s sure of it now.

“Yeah.”

He takes Minho’s hand.

edit: alright i’ve been thinking about making this into a series of “instances” rather than just a stand alone oneshot, should i do it? would you guys like that??? 

anyway thank you all for reading <3