(the prompt xx / xx)

Last winter was the one Taemin suggested they give in to their spark.

They had lived together for so long, lived as bandmates, as friends, grown closer than that, grown confused, grown determined later, only to have come to a mutual understanding to not further whatever they felt, in fear of affecting the future and solidarity of the group.

Minho remembered vividly, Taemin’s eyes, beautiful, moist, yet laced with ache, when he asked if they could further their spark. He remembered vividly, how their spark brightened his eyes, how the whirls of agony dissipated when he had voiced his agreement.

He couldn’t be any thankful for that day, because then on, he could free his heart of some restraints. Yet, the more he acted on his love, the more he wished for it to further. It was his greed, to want to love Taemin more than he could, more than he should.

Their relationship was discreet, only they both were aware of the beautiful world they shared. It was special, away from the harsh reality and Minho didn’t want to ruin it. Yet, they were times when their world suffered a setback when reality was too harsh…and these times, Minho longed for their world to be stronger so they wouldn’t be forced to pretend to be less of what they were, forced to utter harsh words, forced to act against their love. Minho longed for their world to be known, to be acknowledged, at least by the people who mattered, the people he cared about, who were unintentionally hurting them both in their oblivion.

But Taemin seemed satisfied and Minho thought he should be too. They had risked their entire existence, their efforts of so many years, the dream lives that they were living now, for the little love they could share without ruining it all. Nothing else needed to be risked. A little love should be enough. It was better than never loving at all.
 

Minho didn’t like it. Not one bit. Having to display affections elsewhere, having to see Taemin do it as well. He hated hearing words in Taemin’s voice, words of the love he wanted, the love Minho couldn’t give. Words, that he had to say because it was his job…but words that had been repeated so many times that now they slipped Taemin’s tongue effortlessly, confidently…and like the entire world, Minho found himself fooled.

Minho feared that Taemin might fool himself as well, lost in these forceful lies, no longer believing in their spark.

Maybe their spark was dying and it was a lost cause. Minho was tied down, unable to speak or act against those harsh winds to save it. Taemin was too.

It was destiny, perhaps…to have loved a winter and to part the next.

At least in the seasons that had come in between…they had tried to love enough.
 

Taemin snuggled his cold feet deeper into the blanket spread messily on his lap, his hands warming on the cup of hot chocolate as he casually looked to his side, his eyes on Minho, sitting at the breakfast table, talking to Jinki. Minho had grown distant and it made Taemin restless. Their life spared them no more than a few moments every now and then, mostly that came as fan service. 

Taemin couldn’t recall when he had last leaned against him without having a reason to except that he wanted to; Taemin couldn’t recall when he had last seen that gentle smile, that fond gaze; Taemin couldn’t recall when he had last