Just reposting this thing, so I could continue writng. OTL.

Despite receiving extremely detailed directions, I still manage to get lost on my way to the front door, which gives me time to think. Or more like worry my off, now that my mind is only partially clogged by Yixing.

Why would Taemin be sitting alone – cause I assume he is alone, otherwise he’d just ignore me in favor of his boyfriend – on Suho’s porch, texting me, when he could be doing… anything but that?

Did Minho and him fight or something? Did they break up?

For some reason, the prospect is way less appealing to me than it would’ve been any other time in the past two weeks. I mean, there’s my usual, cheerful brother, and then there’s the one who’s apparently been to a nuclear power plant and back, because he’s practically glowing when he’s next to Minho. So who gives a flying squirrel if this glow is highly radioactive and probably contagious? I sure as hell don’t.

I do appreciate the irony, what’s with me visiting Taemin to try and separate him from his love interest, but right now I’d much rather rename my futile plan a into b - ‘get umma to accept Choi Minho’.

Of course plan b is bound to fail if there’s no Minho to begin with.

As soon as my eyes adjust to the bright daylight, I spot my brother squatting on the stairs that connect the house to the fenced front yard. Taemin is leaning on a dying potted plant – I don’t wanna know, head hung low, shoulders shaking, and he doesn’t even budge until I collapse on the next stair beneath him.

“Tae hyung, what’s up? Where’s Minho?”

He cranes his neck to look down at me, and although I’d been expecting to see tears, his face is a big fat blank. At this rate, I’m not even sure which one I’d have preferred.

“Hey Jongin, nothing’s up.” he says, voice raspy and devoid of any possible emotion, which suggests he might’ve been crying, though he no longer is. “Minho went home to sleep before a nightshift, so I was sitting here with Joonmyun hyung’s latest one night stand… lovely girl, by the way, too bad I didn’t catch her name.”

What is this place, a brothel? Where do all these random people keep popping up from?

“Okay, and then..?” I urge him on.

“We had an awesome conversation about my hair extensions, but then she also went home – to her own home, obviously – and now I’m bored. Entertain me.” he sniffs.

Is he kidding me? I’m donating my ity to Kyungsoo if that’s the reason he’d asked me to come out here. Although… it’s probably too soon to laugh about that.

“Look hyung, I know I’m just your little brother,” I take a deep breath, bracing myself, “– but it’s still kinda offending that you take me for a moron. So now tell me what happened, did you fight with Minho?”

“Not yet.” is what he answers, then sighs and begins gnawing on his chapped nail polish. How gross.

…and I suppose I’m to figure the rest out myself? Nope, not gonna happen.

I shift so I could lay my cheek onto his thigh, and sure enough, his hand soon finds its way behind my ear so he could scratch me. Guess he misses the dogs more than it shows.

 “Well… the girl did go home,” he continues, fingers still working magic on my scalp, probably messing up my hair in the process. I could fall asleep like this if I wasn’t so damn worried… “And then I got a call from mom because, apparently, you aren’t answering your phone.”

He pauses again, meaning it’s my turn to speak up. “Neh, I forgot to check my missed calls after your text so… what’d she say?”

“Demanded you get off your lazy and call her? Oh and, that I’m not going to college next year.” 

Taemin then cringes, cause I may have stabbed him with my chin in my haste to look into his eyes at hearing such nonsense. “What do you mean you aren’t going to college? Where else would you go?”

“Hell if I know, to work three jobs at once so I could save up money? Mom said they’ll withdraw all of my college fees unless I come back home and cut all ties with Minho, and there’s no way I could afford it myself. Maybe in a year or three, if Minho helps me.”

His last few words are mixed with tiny sniffles, but of course my hyung is too damn proud to break down in front of me, so he gulps the sobs away and clutches at my shoulder… which hurts, though I’m too shocked to mind the irritation.

“I… don’t know what to say.” I offer dumbly. “Does Minho know?”

“No, but when I do enlighten him we’re gonna have another argument, you’ve no idea how often we’ve been through this. One moment he claims he loves me, the next he’s all… I don’t wanna mess up your future, so it might be best for us to take a break and blah, blah in’ blah.” Tae spits out, fighting his tears with rage so that what mostly takes the blow is – that’s right – my shoulder. And possibly Taemin’s lip, because his teeth are tugging at his lip-ring like he intends to pull it out.

But… they’d seemed so happy. Don’t tell me it was all a perfectly fabricated front, and that’s simply how much I at reading people, or I might start crying instead of Taemin. Not that I want him to cry, obviously, but he was screaming so loud just now some old, wrinkly ajumma is already shooting us dirty looks from the other side of Suho’s fence. However, Taemin is currently way too distracted to notice the sweet pensioner and/or give her the time of day.

Having realized how much I probably fail as a brother, what’s with not being able to come up with even one piece of useful advice, I lie there on Taemin’s thigh and suffer in silence, until something other than his unyielding grip strikes me.

“Hyung, it’s only a week till dad returns to Seoul. What if he talks mom out of it?”

“Are you in’ messing with me, when did dad ever care about anything besides his firm? And he’s still got a perfect little successor to keep the genes flowing, he should be happy there’s suddenly one son less.”

Ouch, that hurt. I almost bite Tae on his jean-clad leg, then realize it’s not his fault he’s unaware of the colossal epiphany I’ve had only minutes ago – at the kitchen, and think better of it.

“That’s funny,” I mumble, switching to the other cheek because Taemin’s pants are making my face itch, “the guy I plan on dating, not only is he… well, male – he’s also a foreigner. Mom’s gonna backflip to China when she finds out.”

Cue another awkward silence.

Taemin’s breath hitches, and he kind of just sags against the huge ceramic pot that supports him, until it quakes in fear. “You wanna date Yixing hyung? Since when?!” he asks after approximately a year, and his voice holds so much accusation I feel the sudden need to defend myself.

“Since… since he’s hot?” I try, then figure that’s not enough of a reason for my picky brother and try again. “Since I suddenly find everything about him y? From his accent to his hands, smile and that stupid dimple, and the fact he tries to save me all the time? It’s like I’ve realized how nice it felt to have him just hold me, and now I wanna do so much more and…woah, I sound like a woman.”

“You’re screwed, Jongin. Just like me.” concludes Taemin.

“But he likes me too, right? That’s what you told me when—”

Taemin cuts off my ode-to-Yixing, “I know that’s what I told you. It was Minho’s idea, actually.” he prompts me to remove my head off his lap, then draws a leg behind himself, as if preparing for story time.

“You see, Yixing used to be involved in some long-distance relationship with a guy he met while still in China, then guy decides to break it off with him cause hey, there’s only so much you can do by Skype, and Yixing is being a sarcastic to everyone. That was a bit less than a year ago, and then you turn up and suddenly he’s all smiles again. Minho nearly his pants in shock.”

He stops, giving me time to process. “So yesterday…