Taemin felt an insufferable pain in his chest the more he held back. He had wanted to ask Jongin badly if he picked a copy of his book or not since that book was everything to him. His work, in general, was everything to him and even if his earliest titles had been horrendous, they were all precious memories to Taemin and he’d be devastated if Jongin hadn’t taken a peek into the way his mind works through writing. At the same time, he wished he had forgotten because he’d have to explain certain things or to hear from Jongin how some of his many surreal scenes would never happen to ordinary men.

However, Taemin didn’t care if Jongin really had said that. Fiction was all about the unusual. No one would read a novel about ordinary things. Even if one declared the plot and characters ordinary, something extraordinary would still happen for the sake of said plot and characters – unless they wanted career suicide. At least, that was how Taemin perceived the literary world. No life created through word could be ordinary.

The same philosophy sometimes seeped into everyday life, when he’d meet someone extraordinary that shared their story with him. From time to time, the most interesting person might be the one that seemed lackluster compared to the majority. It confused Taemin. He tried not to judge those he met, but an initial impression would still happen, regardless whether he wanted or not.

The pain returned when he noticed he finished his hot chocolate. He couldn’t help himself anymore. He had to ask him. Taemin opened his mouth, only for Jongin to lift his eyes from his cup and cut in.

“So, about your novel.” Taemin’s heart almost penetrated his ribcage and shot to Saturn. He nodded fast. “I haven’t read it yet.”

“Yet?”

“I plan to.”

“You’re not saying this to seduce me, are you, Mr. Kim?”

Jongin smiled and shook his head.

“No, Mr. Lee. I’m genuinely curious but, as you know, I lack the necessary time to succumb to the wonders of reading.”

“I still don’t believe you. I bet you’ve scribbled the title on an old piece of paper and put it away in one of the many dusty drawers in the back of your head.”

“On the contrary, my back-drawers are just as active as the front ones. The title was intriguing enough to catch my utmost attention.”

Taemin bit his lips. It wasn’t because he wanted to tell him to go buy it at that moment and read it on the plane or something. Or because he felt a deep disappointment with his date, which often surfaced when he’d be alone and drown in a beer or two (then he’d feel worse because drinking alone was sad, even for someone who preferred solitude like himself).

“Not your eyes, I see.” He painfully remarked.

“Not yet,” Jongin finished his hot chocolate in a gulp, “After Singapore, for sure.”

He sank his teeth in his lower lip mostly because he had this ridiculous joke bouncing in his mind and he knew that letting it loose like a fart would bring some nose crunching and disapproval, from not only Jongin but anyone in the vicinity who had the bad luck of witnessing the incident.  

“So your back-drawers are active, is that so? I wouldn’t take you for the type.”

There it was. Taemin successfully farted from his mouth – and no, it wasn’t a burp. He downright spewed through his mouth. What made it worse was Jongin’s dumbfounded expression, as he had no idea what Taemin was talking about. The cogs and wheels in his brain turned slowly until his cheeks erupted in flames and he had to pull at his collar to release some of that heat off his skin.

“I didn’t mean it like that, but it seems I cannot win against someone with experience in the field.”

They looked down at the same time, compared their mugs and then shared muffled laughter that melted with the background music.

“I have a habit of embarrassing myself if you hadn’t noticed yet,” Taemin muttered as he got up and took his coat on. He threw the scarf around his neck and followed Jongin to the counter. The other glanced in his direction with the wallet already in his hand.

“Embarrassing? When?”

Taemin looked up from his boots and watched Jongin’s back while he was paying for their consumption. “Always.”

His back was familiar.

Taemin felt like he was staring at his first lover. He stood just as tall, slightly slouched, with black hair and the same type of coat. During a similar evening, he took Taemin to the nearest place where they could warm up for a moment or two. It was then that their affair commenced and Taemin always associated cafés with romantic beginnings. They begged you to tell a story of love within their walls. He wondered if maybe it was too late to cancel everything and return to his life before Jongin. On the other hand, he finally had company and something to look forward to every day. As terrible as it sounded, he leaned on Jongin a lot more than he probably knew. Taemin didn’t want to make it obvious.

People run away when they sense someone’s coming too close to them.

However, when Jongin faced him and asked if they could leave, there was no trace of his ex on his face. The only other feature they had in common were the eyes. Taemin always fell for deep eyes. His brother joked that he should buy a dog and stare at it all day long to avoid any unnecessary drama. He thought that maybe he was right. Puppy-like guys were his thing and he wasn’t sure if it was considered some kind of he should be ashamed of or embrace fully. He guessed it was another of his many faults.

“Taemin?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

“Need a ride home?”

Taemin hadn’t refused the offer a second time. He didn’t feel like walking again and the night became too gloomy for him. He was afraid of taking the bus and descending into his thoughts. They’d chase him in nightmares again and he had no desire to further ruin his mood. Once in the car, he hadn’t opened his mouth right away. He stared at the city and the lights as they were passing by, losing himself within another phantasm.

It was snowing.

He sometimes caught a glimpse of his reflection on the window’s glass and he suddenly was in a submarine, maybe even aboard the Nautilus. Outside the vehicle was water, which abnormal creatures filled, all living in harmony in a coral reef built from the diversity of the city. He leaned back against the chair and enjoyed the spectacle, gone again in his imagination. If only he had the strength to focus on reality and see the world the way it truly was, not through the lenses of his hyperactive mind.

His submarine morphed again in a car when he saw the man of his sorrows in the shape of nostalgia, blending with the crowd. Jongin slowed down and waited in the queue for the light to change. Taemin blinked once, he blinked twice, and the man disintegrated in white ash.

“Isn’t it funny?” He spoke softly as people crossed the road and left their shadows over the hood filling with white dots.

“What is?” Jongin turned to Taemin. One hand was still on the wheel. Wipers powerfully whipped from one side to the other, chasing away the crystalline flakes.

“When someone hurts you, there’s this craving to hurt them back. I’ve always wondered why that’s our first impulse when provoked in such manner.”

“Isn’t it out of instinct? Wild animals too tend to strike if provoked.” Jongin mused before he realized that might not have been the main subject. “Someone hurt you?”

“Badly,” Taemin adjusted in his seat and faced Jongin. “But I got them back.”

“How?”

“I wrote a novel. Got rich.”

“The one you’ve told me about?”

“No,” Taemin stretched his arms and looked out the window. “My first novel.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Taemin admitted and shifted in his seat. “Just that,” he trailed off when he noticed the way snow melted over the glass, “all the bad towards good, right?” Taemin whispered the end of his sentence, still mesmerized with the process.

“Yeah.”

The car advanced.

Jongin gripped on the wheel. Taemin might not have known back then, but his voice echoed in his head louder than anything else did that night. Was Taemin solely referring to his past or had it been his way of saying that Jongin courting him was a dreadful experience he’d use in future works? It gnawed at him like a hungry beast, a creature formed out of his usual pessimistic output of the entire conversation, until he’d be nothing but a pile of shredded meat; unrecognizable, unwanted.

He kept that frown on his face and serious composure throughout the ride. Taemin became silent too and checked his phone more than he checked on Jongin.

It wasn’t until he parked in front of Taemin’s place that they finally linked looks again.

“I guess it’s goodbye, Mr. Kim.”

“It’s goodbye, Mr. Lee. But not forever.”

“Godspeed, Jongin.”

Taemin smiled and unhooked his belt. He leaned over, tilted his head, closed his eyes and kissed Jongin. It wasn’t the shy, let’s-get-over-with-it, touch they shared on the rooftop. Jongin had to catch Taemin by the waist because his body became numb in an instant and he really wanted him to get closer and closer until he’d breathe down his lips and their hearts would beat together, chest against chest. Unfortunately, for Jongin, Taemin didn’t learn to hold that kiss longer and left him slightly pouting. The warmth of his mouth made him in his lips as Taemin left the car and waved goodbye.

Hah.

Maybe, just maybe, Jongin had been exaggerating. Taemin meant exactly what he said, without hinting at something else. It was refreshing and Jongin was as bubbly as a cold soda in the summer, effervescent in the middle of the blizzard looming around the corner.

His eyes fell on where Taemin had sat. Something colorful rested on the seat. Jongin grabbed the scarf and was ready to call him. He would have to come down and take it. Jongin could get a third kiss as a reward. Instead, he folded nicely the scarf, put it in his briefcase and made a mental note to return it later.

He didn’t want to bother Taemin, not when he was probably comfortable under layers of blankets, away from the freezing wrath of winter.

---

The only reason Taemin abused his phone more than usual in the car was Heechul. He sent him a message regarding a package that must have arrived at Taemin’s doorstep somewhere that week, as he made sure it wouldn’t take too long until it reached him. Taemin had no idea what package he was talking about or what he meant with ‘it totally fits you, I know it’ until he recalled the box he got after the first date with Jongin.

He rushed inside the building, tossed a greeting to the door attendant and hurried upstairs. Once in the apartment, he grabbed the first knife from the kitchen, moved the package in the living room and, like a maniac, slashed through the tape holding the box together. It would have been picture perfect if he had also laughed like an evil mastermind. Instead, he groaned and grunted, only to shut up because he could hear Wonshik teasing him. He really made lewd sounds, excessively, in a way that’d drive anyone to sin in his presence. Taemin shrugged that off – not, it was just Wonshik’s influence talking, not what he really believed.

Taemin put the knife on the table and got out a colorful paper bag. Heechul had a thing with pranking him. And sending him weird gifts. From the congratulatory card in the bag, it was really from his brother, signed and all.

He furiously texted him, all caps, ‘WHY’. A second later, the phone rang.

“Are you ing serious?”

“I presume you got it.”

“What am I supposed to do with a dress?”

Taemin roared in the phone while he waved the said dress like an anti-propaganda flag. It was red with black lace at the hem. Heechul’s package included a thick choker to ‘hide the obvious’ and a bra with silicone inserts to ‘spice it up’.

“Didn’t you say you’re writing about a guy that dresses like a girl at night?”

“Since when do you listen to what I say?”

”That you couldn’t get the feeling right because you never wore a dress?”

“So what?”

“Now you can. Go out, brother, and write it down. You can sell it as an autobiography, you’ll do great.”

Taemin hung up. He tossed everything on the floor and stomped to the bathroom. He cursed Heechul repeatedly and wished he’d sneeze all night long and then some more. Back in the living room, in only his robe and with hair still wet, he took a second look at the mess on the floor.

Taemin would regret it later.

He put on the bra, the choker, the dress, no underwear and snapped several photos before he stripped and went to bed.

One hour later, Taemin snapped his eyes open. He couldn’t believe he actually half gave in to Heechul’s suggestion.

He kicked the blanket and whined.

A/N

Hello. If it hadn’t been obvious, we switched around ages and such to fit with the story. Just thought I’d mention it. Also, sorry if the pace is too slow. Koemi and I are working on another story called (what a surprise lol) Red Moon on the Shore. We’ll update that one before we update Sun and update Sun before Moon (wow, such creative names), though, nothing’s ever sure. Check it out if any of you are curious, the first chapter should come soon ;D

Thank you for reading!