greetings, before you proceed to read this oneshot, I wanted to thank everybody for subscribing, voting and commenting even before I post a chapter. I hope you enjoy this weird post!

Taemin was the kind of guy who would calculate every move he made, would think excessively about everything until he stressed himself. Nobody seemed to understand why he had all the insecurities and why he couldn’t overcome it.

Maybe because he was young to begin with, trying to catch and run for his dream of becoming a dancer while going through identity crisis of one complete normal teenager. He grew into one visionary man, an aspiring man at that, yet he had this doubtful side of him that he couldn’t fathom.

As much as he loved living his dream, he was afraid about things that might come in exchange of it. And when his brain created the trains of thoughts, he became one muted man with big concern written all over his face.

Times like that pushed him to find comfort. Yet, not everyone could ease his messy head. Not everyone had the magic touch.

One day, his young self, had tried to talk to Onew (or Jinki he preferred to call) and told him that his head was crammed with concerns; of the training days, of his possibility of debuting, and the school. Also he said that his concerns often came out as nightmares. Jinki had tried to ease him, assuring the said boy that he would become one of the shining stars in the future, but Taemin wasn’t buying that. He thanked the chosen leader of their current training group and said that it helped even though, honestly, Jinki wasn’t really helping.

Before the company fixated the group he was going to debut with, he searched for a comfort from a friend. Jongin, was a boy he met and got close pretty fast. With the same dream and hobby, he thought that Jongin might help him. But Jongin had this ordinary way of overcoming his concern; he would listen to calming classic jazz, walk near the river or dance his body out in the studio. Taemin tried it, he swore on that. However, it was only temporary; he forgot almost everything when he danced, but when the music ended, his concerns showed up again.

When he debuted under the name of SHINee, he found one particular member that was close to bring him comfort, Key, who was bold in everything he did and he knew very well what he was good at. Taemin wondered if he ever had a concern, for he always looked hyped. Key told him that he would feel better and forgot his concerns when he ate good food. It did help a lot in daylight, but not the nightmare. Therefore, he searched for another solution.

At some point, he came up with the most basic idea: a mother would understand you the most, just like what people said. Thus he tried to call his mother, talked to her about his current self and problems too. At first it worked. For the first few months it helped, but then it wasn’t enough, so he started to meet her late at night to hear her voice, or sleep within her arms. Yet again, he couldn’t always call her without a notice or wake his mother at night. He knew his mother was busy with her work and knew that he only became his mother’s concern at night until she lacked of sleep.

And in the end, he concluded that not everyone had the magic touch.

Not before he came to Minho.

The maknae was sitting at the corner of his bed. The five of them shared one room with two bunker beds in it and one bed in the between the bunkers. Taemin’s share was on the bottom left of their crumpled bunks. He curled himself under the blanket, whispering all the questions he got in his head while his eyes glistened over his insecurities as he heard footsteps approaching him.

“You need to feed yourself.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“That’s so rare of you.”

He felt the dip on his bed, turning to where the weight settled down. Peeking through his blanket was his tired eyes and messy hair.

“Want to talk about your concern?”

“I don’t think it will help.”

“You haven’t tried me.”

Taemin contemplating the offer, eyes flickering from thinking and after a few seconds of thinking, he accepted the helping hands. Minho sat next to Taemin at the corner, he just sat there quietly, arm met arm and thigh met thigh.

“I may not be able to solve problem, but I will be a good listener.”

Since then, Minho became Taemin’s harbour whenever he stressed out. Minho would always sat next to him, close, his eyes would stare deeply into him while he listened to every words he uttered. Never once he drifted his eyes away, his gesture was always welcoming, which was shown from the way he gave a gentle pat on his knee or his back. He gave his own opinion about Taemin’s concern, and he was only one that always warned the younger about his bad habit which was over-calculating things.

Taemin found that Minho was really helping with his words, he wondered if they were really two years apart since Minho’s head seemed to be filled with wisdom a teenager wouldn’t have. He was jealous that Minho seemed to pick the best solution to his problem while he couldn’t put himself in such logical idea.

“It’s not that I am a wise person, it’s a matter of experiences.” That was what Minho said. “A person doesn’t stand tall because he’s strong from the first time, it’s because he’s been crawling, crushed down only to try to crawl again until he gets himself onto his feet and stand.”

He knew Minho had his own struggle before choosing this path, he knew how hard he was trying to be a soccer player while his father prohibited him to be an athlete. Having to face hard decision made Minho became one mature boy, hence, he trusted him.

After all the wonder, it was Minho who gave him good sleep at night and he couldn’t be more thankful about it.

Minho was someone who would put other first; Taemin noticed that. He listened to his grouses even late at night. Didn’t he mind Taemin sitting next to him just to sigh and not telling anything– and he sigh a lot when he sat down, might as well blew the whole city with his train of thoughts. When he thought that Minho would get bored listening to him, he didn’t. The elder would sometimes scold him for being too grouchy about this, yet he came to Taemin and pat his back until the younger fell asleep.

And somewhat, it wasn’t about talking and listening anymore. It was more like companionship. Taemin had to worry about nothing since that, for Minho was a hand away. Minho’s presence could calm his messy head and the pat on his back would be his sleeping charm, also his useless thoughts getting lesser than before.

Minho had that magic touch.

However, it didn’t make Taemin stop thinking things. He thought that he was only burdening the elder, so he tried to find another one who would ease him out; nobody had that magic touch.

Only Minho.

Taemin stepped into Minho’s room and found himself a place on the bed, next to his hyung who was reading his drama script. Years had passed, their age added in number, SHINee became one of the top groups, their dorm got bigger, and their relationship got stronger; one thing that had not changed, Minho’s ears for Taemin’s concern.

The grown up maknae was no longer the mushroom haired boy, no longer tiny or stumble upon his word, he became a great soloist who knew what was best of him, yet still a guy who count his every move and grew insecurities in his brain. He still was a boy who would snuggle next to his hyung and moped over things.

“I’m listening.”

Minho put down his script as soon as Taemin invaded his privacy, didn’t he mind it, and even he ran his one hand along the dip of the maknae’s back as a form of comfort. Taemin wrapped his arms tighter around Minho’s torso, face planted on the chest deeply; he said nothing but let out a content sigh. Minho wasn’t complaining the silence, because at times like this meant that Taemin needed nothing but a pat.

He patted the back gently like always, claiming the steady breathing of Taemin as a compliment of being a successful caretaker. And that was enough for Minho. Making someone – or (always) Taemin – feels better made him happy. That it also made him feel giddy at how easy to soothe Taemin, unlike his other members who would nag at how serious his advices were. It was always Taemin who would fall asleep and become brighter when he gave him his thought.

Although, maybe, Minho would never know the entire truth.

Beside his wise words, there was this one thing that amazed Taemin after years being close to Minho, his scent; the gentle scent Minho emitted made Taemin’s heart at ease. Like how he loved smelling his mother’s scent, but a bit more than a maternal love because, of course, Minho wasn’t his mom.

And maybe (probably around 87%) the reason he came lately not because he had concerns, or asking an advice, or about searching for solace anymore. Maybe it was about the excitement he felt whenever Minho was near, feeling the weird flips in his chest when he held the elder, or about the tantalizing covet to just be with Minho.

Hadn’t Minho being a family, he would cuddle him in a different way and maybe ask if it’s okay to have him to himself. He knew he should not love the way Minho ran his fingers on his hair too much, he should not smile too wide at how Minho caressed his cheek, or he should not sunk himself deeper into Minho’s hugs. But he did all.

“Not telling?” Minho asked.

Taemin shook his head, he honestly had no worry– or he had few, but they were so simple, he didn’t want to be a petty maknae who nags over trivial stuffs, because Minho would only scold him and asked him to go to his own bed. He wouldn’t want that. He wanted to fall asleep within his hyung’s arms.

“What time is your schedule tomorrow, hyung?”

“Why?”

“I want to wake up to you,” Taemin looked up to Minho’s eyes.

“Is the concern weighing you too much?”

Taemin only shrugged his shoulders.

“I have time until 08.15, schedule at 9.”

He nodded, “I have 7 o’clock schedule.”

“Okay.”

He took one lungful of his hyung’s scent and smiled in secret. Closing his eyes was what he did next. Minho’s chest was rising up and down, his breathing was loud in Taemin’s ear and his heartbeat was thrumming on his cheek; nothing could ever make him happier than this.

“You want to sleep already?” Minho shifted to more comfortable position, knowing that he and Taemin wouldn’t move until he woke up tomorrow. He wouldn’t want a cramp in the morning.

“Maybe?”

“Really not telling me?”

“Ssshhh,” he snuggled closer to Minho as if he was his bolster, head sunk on the hard chest while his arms firmly secured around Minho’s torso like he was going to lose him if he let go, and legs s one of the elder’s legs so that he wouldn’t push him away. Because all that he needed was Minho.

“I’m going to continue my reading then,” Minho glanced at the buried face and smiled after a short sigh of understanding. He snickered a little before pulling the smaller figure into his embrace, one arm holding the script book while the other draped around Taemin’s lower back, giving a gentle pat.

“I feel like a baby,” Taemin whispered.

“You are to me,” he chuckled as he placed his chin on the crown of Taemin’s head.

“Tch, I really hate it when you said that.”

“You claimed it yourself though.”

“I just feel like one, not that I admit that I am a baby, don’t you say that again because I’m not.”

Minho chuckled at how serious Taemin’s rumble. He knew the maknae hates it when people coo him like a baby, yet seeing his expression whenever someone did that was precious.

“Now now,” he Taemin’s hair and ran his fingers through the silky hair, massaging it with his fingertips until he perceived a pleased sigh out of Taemin’s lips.

“You really know how to spoil me,” he paused, only to continue hesitantly, “Like I’m your baby.”

Minho nodded, and then chuckled, his book was on the pillow already, he was engrossed on how Taemin react to his every touch, and it made him delighted.

“Aigoo.. What would you do if I’m not here for you? Can you live on your own?”

“Probably not.”

And that was true, Taemin muttered inside his head.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Taemin laughed at this before he looked up to Minho, eyes crinkled into a shape of a crescent. Minho collided his forehead against the younger not knowing how Taemin was struggling to breathe properly, because his heart and lungs had constricted. Taemin was hoping that Minho would draw back from doing it, but no, Minho seemed to not going to do that.

If he could curse the elder for being a weirdo who loved to stick their foreheads when they’re on bed, he would, yet he was so flustered every time he couldn’t do anything but looked at those big eyes once in a while.

“Why?” Minho asked, breath smelled like mint toothpaste.

“Nothing,” it was a whisper that he let out.

“You sure?” Minho leaned back to examined Taemin’s face, his smile dissipated gradually when he saw the younger’s expression stoic. “Tae?”

“I-”

He shouldn’t think that Minho was cute when he tilted his head in confusion, and he really shouldn’t glance at those lips, yet he did it nevertheless. And what he really shouldn’t do was imagining how it tasted like kissing them. Taemin shoved Minho when he realised how wrong his thoughts were, causing Minho to frown because he didn’t like how Taemin slipped out of his grip.

“Yah,” Minho tightened his hugs by pulling Taemin closer up towards him, face aligned, so close; Taemin had gasped a little too weirdly and it made Minho wonder why Taemin’s heart beat as fast as his.

“Uh– that...” He swore he didn’t mean to softly whimper to the elder’s face. Please, don’t think of it a moan, Taemin prayed to God.

Minho narrowed his eyes at how weird Taemin acted around him, not only now, but recently too. And he didn’t miss hearing the loud gulp.

“Why are you so anxious?”

“That, I don’t know...”

Taemin decided that he no longer able to look at Minho’s eyes and buried his face on the junction of Minho’s neck, hitting Minho’s jaws in process. He let out a faint embarrassed hiss, followed by a tight hug. The elder of the two beamed warmly, one of his hands had automatically found its place on Taemin’s scalp, massaging it gently while chuckling at how cute the maknae was.

“What a fluff ball,” Minho whispered inaudibly before he enveloped the younger’s body lovingly. One thing he loved when they cuddled like this was nosing Taemin’s hair, it smelled like mulberry, and he loved how meek the younger was whenever he took him in his embrace; he just had to make sure Taemin didn’t melt in his arm. He chortled at the thought of Taemin melted like cheese on a pan of pizza– which would be very endearing.

Yet again, Taemin had breathed in Minho’s scent, held it in for a while before he exhaled slowly. He didn’t think it would make Minho’s hair stood up, he barely noticed it because he was focusing himself to the gentle pat on his back. He couldn’t deny how appeasing it was for him, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Let me ask you something,” Minho started again.

“No.”

Minho smiled at the answer and at the slight pout he felt on his crook, “Why not?”

“I don’t want a question.”

“So, no serious conversation?”

“No, because I have none.”

“But you seem in deep thought.”

“It’s just my face,” Taemin unattached himself from the hug, squinted his eyes as he gave a little space to observe his hyung’s face, “Do I only come to you when I’m having a concern?”

“You not?” He teased.

“I talk rubbish and stuff too. You don’t actually listen to me, do you?” Taemin judged Minho hard. “All these times– no, I bet you don’t even remember what I talked about two days ago.”

Minho scrutinised the reddening tip of Taemin’s ears, a sign that the younger was either pissed or shy, but the latter was obviously not the reason here. It was adorable, too adorable for a man who screamed iness whenever he stood on stage. He couldn’t handle it, therefore he sunk himself into the crook of Taemin’s shoulder, rubbing his face on the soft skin there.

“Urgh, don’t hug me...” Taemin squirmed, hair already stood up because of the warm breath Minho blew on his neck. “Is this your way of apologising?”

“No, I’m not apologising,” the elder smiled, “I just like hugging you.”

Taemin shook his head, trying so hard not to show how he easily gave up just for Minho. “Really hyung, I’m not impressed by this.”

“I’m only teasing you the entire time...”

Taemin cupped Minho’s face and glared, “Yes, but I feel like it’s the truth, that I’m only a burden you have to carry around and because of that you don’t give a about my rumbles.”

“Wrong. You know I remember all those things you said. Point one clue and I’ll recite your story.”

“If you could, then you’re a freaking genius.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“Not one bit.”

A knowing smile decorated Minho’s face when he felt the hands on his cheeks softened, he knew Taemin was lying; Taemin believed him the most, that was the reason why he came to his chamber almost every night. He let out a breathy laugh as he stared deeply into Taemin’s brown eyes.

“I know you have nothing on your head when you barge into my room.”

“Tch, don’t joke me.”

Minho whose hands draped around Taemin’s waist started to place gentle pats on the lower back of the spine. He slightly kissed the palm of the younger, causing Taemin a mini heart attack.

“Tell me how long has it been?”

“What?”

“It’s been weighing you for quite some times, huh? Thinking that you’re a burden to me.”

Taemin shrugged.

“I don’t think of you that way, Tae,” Minho pulled Taemin closer and snuggled to his crook, placing a gentle kiss on the dip of his collarbone, “I love hearing you all night if it enlighten your head, and I am proud to be able to give a gentle, calming pat on your back just as much as you love receiving it. Come on, you don’t want me to rant cheesy stuffs...”

A sigh escaped from Taemin lips, his awkward arm slipped under Minho’s head as a pillow and encircled it around the elder’s head, drawing him into a tighter hug. Taemin loved being hugged by Minho, loved giving him a hug too. He liked the gentle pat that could drift him to sleep. Minho’s hand had that magic touch.

“Good to hear that,” Taemin kissed the elder’s crown and yawned.

There was an innocent kiss on his neck that tickled him, and Taemin couldn’t help but chuckled at that. He knew that he would sleep soundly tonight.

hello again! you might not want to hear the grumble of an old lady, but if you're kind enough to hear me out, please help me, encourage me, anything... I am now having a great slump as a human being (as an author too. my drafts are dusty from being abandoned for a long time). I am a bit concern if I couldn't make another or finish my incomplete stories. I also feel guilty towards everyone who requested a story but I haven't given you an update. I am so sorry, trust me I have the draft of your requested fic, but unable to develop it into one good story. Things isn't going well in real life, I'm doubting myself a lot and even though I ty to be positive, I always end up thinking bad things. I'm considering going into hiatus, but I don't know. My heart still want me to write. /sigh/

URGH

I wish you have a better day than I am,

best regards,

aqcelnicorus :D