Taemin hated traveling. Foreign voices in crowded airports spiked his anxiety and the smallest bout of turbulence on the planes had him gripping his seat arms until his fingers hurt. Altogether, he prefered to stay home in bed with some gentle anime playing on his television.

Yet, SM had told him that he needed to do this. That We Got Married would not only be a great opportunity for him to grow as a person, but also as a way for him to gain fans and for SM to be more profitable. Somehow, he had assumed, that money would come to him, but so far, he hadn't seen a penny.

He had agreed, though, after a lot of groaning, so he knew he had to stick it out. Meeting Son Naeun for the first time was an experience that he would never forget. She was easily one of the most beautiful people he had ever layed his eyes upon. Just thinking about her let his heart calm from its frantic pace. She was a goddess, clearly. Her eyes held galaxies and her smile was stronger than a bonfire. Her body was slim but developed, just the amount that he craved. He wished sometimes that he could envelop her with his strong arms and whisper into her ears that she was perfect. Yet, in her charm, there was also resilience. A flame burned inside her and when the director ended scene after scene, he would see the stars fade from her eyes and a blurry sheen overtake them. She would become stiff and turn herself away from him, as if she were disgusted by his existence.

He never knew which side of her was the real one. She seemed happy enough when she was with him, linking arms, laying her head on his shoulder, but he wondered if she too was doing it for her company.

She slept beside him now, undisturbed by the turbulence, head on his shoulder, a perfect actress even in her dreams. He knew that the camera crew was recording--rarely did they stop--but he knew too that the footage would be unusable.

Taemin was supposed to be the strong one, Naeun's rock, and here he was, white knuckles, clenched teeth, in fear of being out of control and tumbling to the ground below.

Hesitantly, Taemin put his arm around Naeun. She didn't stir, and her touch sent a warmth through him that spread throughout his core. He nuzzled his head on top of hers and closed his eyes. He would try to get some sleep. Maybe she had the right idea.

He awoke to the all-too nervewracking sound of plane wheels on rough tarmac. Rubbing his eyes, Taemin looked to Naeun.

"Hey," he sighed. "Welcome home."

Her eyes were cold, but she responded warmly. "Thank you. I hope you rested well."

"I did," he responded, but with no conviction. She only tolerated him. She, more beautiful than the lapping of the ocean, thought him a bug. He could see it in her eyes.

"I'll see you next week," she said, bowing. Then, painstakingly slow, awkward almost, she bent and kissed him on the forehead. The touch sent an inferno through him that he desperately grasped at, willing it not to leave. Yet, as she sauntered away, long legs and short skirt, he felt the warmth leave with her. The spot of her lips felt turned to ice.

"I'll miss you," he whispered.

Depressed, Taemin walked out of the plane and to baggage check, ignoring the ever-present camera crew. She didn't like him. How was he supposed to act with her for five more weeks, if it was just that--acting?

And what if it was him? He had never had a girlfriend, and now, when one was practically given to her, he couldn't even get her to like him. What was wrong with him? What if he never found someone? What if he was forty and alone, with only his anime?

"Ugh, I need to fix this," he mumbled to himself. Like a robot, he found his bag and left baggage claim.

And then suddenly: "Taemin-ah!"

Taemin flew backwards in total shock. He recognized the voice immediately, no matter how distorted it was from some ungodly amount of drink.

"Hyung?" He gasped.

Jonghyun stood in front of him, totally disheveled. His blond hair was awry, sticking up in tuffs like a dysfunctional lion. His button-up shirt was ripped open and a large stain of dark alcohol disfigured the front. Its pungent smell pierced the air and forced a cough from Taemin.

"What happened?" Taemin asked, terrified.

"I...missed you," Jonghyun slurred, pulling Taemin in for a sloppy hug.

Taemin fought against his elder and extricated himself from the powerful grasp. The paparazzi was here for him, and he knew they would have a field day with Jonghyun like this.

"Hyung, let's go."

"No, Taemin, I need to talk with you."

"We can talk later."

Despite his protestations, Taemin led Jonghyun out of the airport and to his car, where he shoved his elder into the passenger seat.

"Do you know what you just did?" Taemin demanded, anger rising.

"Taemin...I."

"You just ruined your reputation, Kim Jonghyun. You've been in the business for years, but no one will ing hire you after this. You've not only ruined your name, but you've ruined SHINee's."

"What?" Jonghyun looked confused. "I just wanted to say...I love you."

"You what?" Taemin studied Jonghyun's face, but noted its sincerity. While he blinked his eyes like a drunkard and nervously folded his fingers, Taemin could see his sincerity.

"I love you, Lee Taemin. I tried to drink...and....forget about it, but I can't. And," he added, throwing a fist in the air, "I ing hate that Son Naeun. No one is gonna steal you from me."

"Hyung..." Taemin's voice was regretful. "You know how much you mean to me. I'm sorry...for what...I said."

"I want..." Jonghyun closed his eyes and brought his fists to his temples. "to kiss you so ing bad."

"Jonghyun...don't...you're drunk."

"I'm not!"

"I'm going to bring you home."

"Hold my hand."

"What?"

"I love you, Taeminnie."

Taemin grasped his hand and felt the same rush of warmth into his body. He clenched his teeth. Jonghyun loved him. He'd never thought that he felt the same way, but this feeling was so...familiar.

"Do you love me, Taeminnie?" Jonghyun slurred, almost incomprehensible. He turned to face Taemin, and Taemin could make out the watery sparkle of adoration in his eyes through the thick darkness.

"Are you...do you...you like men?"

"I like you."

Taemin's heart swelled at the words, despite their cornyness. Jonghyun was drunk. He could be saying anything right now. Yet, what if it was true? What if...he didn't need Naeun to be happy? What if the answer was just in front of him?

"Hyung..." Taemin groaned, "I'm bringing you home with me."

He couldn't leave Jonghyun alone in his apartment to wake up in confusion, hung over, an unresolved question lingering behind his eyebrows.

Taemin drove home as slow as he could, both to let Jonghyun sleep and to allow himself to work through his thoughts. Could he ever see himself with Jonghyun? He was hot, sure, but he was also...male.

Once home, Taemin let Jonghyun see himself to bed and slept on the couch, as far away as possible. They could talk tomorrow morning.

He deliberated over the idea of Jonghyun for half of the night. He loved him, but only as a friend. But what if he gave him a shot? What was there to lose? Taemin's heart pounded like a restless drum, waiting for the resolution that he couldn't figure out himself. Anxiously, he fell asleep.

Before the bright rays of sunlight pierced his eyes, Taemin awoke to Jonghyun opening the fridge.

"Water..." he murmered. "And what the hell am I doing here?"

Taemin sat up and felt Jonghyun turn his attention to him.

"Why am I here?" He repeated. "I'm damn hungover."

"There's water on your bedstand," Taemin informed him. "And you're here because you met me in the airport. Drunk."

Jonghyun replied with a single .

"Did I make a scene?

"Ignore that. You told me that you loved me."

Jonghyun covered his face with his eyes and began to shake his head, almost vigorously. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I...told you...the truth."

"The truth?" A feeling of hopeful terror ran the length of Taemin's body.

"I like you, Lee Taemin. I..."

Wordless, Taemin moved across the kitchen. He moved his face close to Jonghyun's, so that their noses stood centimeters apart. "I thought about it, Kim Jonghyun. All night. I thought about you. You, and my reputation, and Naeun."

Jonghyun's lips were parted, eyes darting back and forth, in pure desperation. "And?"

"I decided you're worth it. Every word, every second. You're Kim Jonghyun, and I want to try and love you."

Taemin kissed him rough, arms wandering, legs entwining, bliss shifting back and forth.

And when they parted, and Jonghyun grinned his cheesy smile, the warmth didn't leave Taemin. Even when, a week later, when he went to meet the cold Naeun, he felt the everlasting fire burn hot in his chest.