Dreaming

Taemin felt like he was having the best dream ever. He felt safe; cushioned against a solid softness that was slowly enveloping his entire body in a sweat-inducing heat.

A large masculine hand cupped the back of his limp neck in a protective almost urgent kind of way as gentle fingers slid those tickling little hairs softly away from his face. They trailed lightly as if slightly cautious, yet lazily enough that the rough pads of overused fingertips seem to transform into the sensual of a tongue. Dragging, tasting, and savoring. 

And surprisingly, Taemin wasn't alarmed at the foreign touches on his body. In fact, he almost wished he could beg for more. But he was afraid. If he moved or spoke, this most amazing dream might vanish, and then he would be left empty and alone, without this feeling of being in the arms of a lover.

And much to Taemin's surprise, someone else spoke instead, "Should we call his family? He's got his phone on him, right?

"Um. . .yeah. I think I can feel it against my leg. It's in his back right pocket."

Taemin felt the blood drain from his face, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water. He went rigid. This wasn't a dream. In stomach-churning clarity, it was coming back to him now. Taemin had passed out after coming to the realization that Jongin wasn't an . In fact, he was the furthest thing from it. Taemin was the for even thinking such thoughts. And now here he lay, pretending to still be unconscious on the floor of the coffee shop, which happened to be his new part-time job.

Then, without warning, Jongin's hands moved to wrap firmly across the expanse of Taemin's shirt-covered back, tilting the smaller body towards himself and slightly pressing Taemin into a hug. And then there was a hand sliding into the back pocket of Taemin's black pants . . . right against his .

Taemin's eyes flashed open. He came face to face with Jongin's hoodie, the neck of it loose and hanging low. He couldn't help sneaking a peek at Jongin's tanned pronounced collarbones and slight hint of a well defined chest. Taemin blinked and swallowed and then clutched onto Jongin's arms.

"Oh!" Jongin cried in alarm as he felt tiny fingers dig into his bicep. 

Suho paused, hand still grasping the phone in Taemin's back pocket. "Taemin-ah, are you ok?"

Jongin looked down. Taemin was wide-eyed and flushed. He quickly loosened his grip and moved the smaller boy off his lap and onto the floor.

Suho frowned. He laid a gentle hand against Taemin's forehead. "You feel hot."

Taemin his dry lips. This couldn't go on much longer, he didn't think he could handle any further embarrassment. He tried to sit up.

"Hey, be careful," Jongin said, about to lay a steadying hand on Taemin's shoulder but then retracted it mid-way.

Taemin put a hand against his head, more so to cover his increasingly blushing face, and faked a groan. "I uh, . . . got hit with a soccer ball a couple days ago. Guess I haven't fully recovered," He said with a meek laugh and tried to shake off his nervous jitters. 

Suho sighed with relief, realizing the Taemin from years before was probably not the same Taemin now. "Playing too hard with your friends, huh?" He said and ruffled the younger's head.

Taemin laughed as he stood up, because Suho's words were comical, really. 

"Hey, you want me to give you a ride home?" Suho offered.

Taemin smiled. "No, no that's ok. I'm fine. . .really," He urged.

"Mmm . . . I don't know hyung, he looks a little shaky to me," Sehun chimed in, a little too urgently. 

Suho glared at the younger with disappointment, reading right through him. "I will take Taemin home. But!" He pointed. "Don't think this clears you from our meeting. I will be catching up with you both before bedtime," he warned.

Sehun let out an irritated huff as he crossed his arms and pouted.

Jongin, however, had remained silent. He hadn't even stood up yet, but Taemin refused for there to be any more missed opportunities. He met Jongin's eyes expectantly. "Um, tommorow, I can give you a call . . . when I'm done here, and then we could-"

"Oh, yeah that." Jongin cut in, his deep voice making Taemin pause.

Taemin smiled and waited for him to continue, that fluttery feeling rising in his tummy.

"No, wait!" Jongin suddenly shouted and jumped to his feet.

Taemin's eyes widened.  Jongin's expression was unreadable as he held out his hand.

"Give me your phone." 

Taemin blinked rapidly, still confused. He quickly took the phone out of his pocket and laid it in Jongin's waiting hand.  He tried to think of something to say as Jongin's fingers quickly got to his contact list. Would Jongin laugh when he saw that there were basically no contacts?

"Um . . ." Taemin started, embarrassed, but Jongin let out a snort a second later as he pressed the edit button. Taemin blanched when he saw Jongin deleting his number from his phone. He reacted instantly, hand darting out and covering Jongin's hand with his own. "But, why? I don't understand?" He practically pleaded.  

"What?" Jongin looked up confused, his lazy smirk slowly fading at the sight of Taemin's stricken face. He shook his head and removed Taemin's hand. "No, look. See?"

Taemin looked down. The contact was still there, just the number had been changed . . . by a single digit.

Jongin smirked again. "You put my number in wrong too."

Taemin's eyes flashed wide open as they flickered up to Jongin's face and the taller male swears he could count almost every one of the shorter's eyelashes. As Taemin let out a sigh of relief, he smiled; wide and gorgeous and so sincerely, that Jongin was thankful for that breath of air he could feel wafting in through his parted lips, because he momentarily forgot how to breathe.

And probably wouldn't have, had Suho not interrupted about getting Taemin home at a decent time. So with a plan to meet tomorrow, Jongin and Taemin parted ways.

During the ride home, however, Suho felt compelled to query the younger on the scene he had witnessed earlier. "So, Taemin-ah, you and Jongin are friends, eh? Cause I have to tell you, it's not a partnership I would have expected," He said lightly.

Taemin shrugged and smiled as he laid his head against the glass of the car window. "Well . . . I don't know about friends just yet, but . . . I hope so."

Suho smiled and nodded. "I think it's nice. Jongin needs someone like you."

That made Taemin's brow crease as he watched the street lights pass one by one in a blur. Needs someone like him? What did that even mean? Like . . . to help Jongin with his dancing? Or . . . was he struggling with his grades? Taemin was puzzled, but he didn't want to think too much on it. If he was needed, then that was a good thing, right? 

The next day at around noon, the hallways were empty and quiet. The white tile floor shined, not a speck of dirt on it. Beautiful God-rays filtered in through the numerous giant bay windows and glass cases lined the walls filled with trophy upon magnificent trophy, only displaying 1st place winners. And then with the chime of a bell, quiet became chaos and the hallways overflowed with students. In particular, one very tall student with multi-colored hair who was currently sprinting through the crowd. Scowl on his face and arms shoving random peers out of his way. He was dead-set on making it to his dorm. He took the steps two at a time, leaving him huffing and puffing, but he finally made it. Room 109, his shared bedroom with Jongin. He flung the door open and immediately rolled his eyes. The tanned dancer was , flung carelessly on his bed. One arm and one leg dangling over the edge, sheets and blankets a wrinkled mess on the floor. Sehun grabbed a pillow off his own bed and started hitting the other boy with it.

At first thrash, Jongin cursed and brought a lazy hand to cover his face. And then on the second, he finally sprang up, like a cat, limbs primed and eyes dead-set on his attacker. "You better start talking," He ground out.

Jongin's voice was low and hoarse from sleep but Sehun had good reason for his interruption. "Just thought I'd warn you before you heard about it from someone else." Jongin's expression didn't change, so Sehun continued, "They cancelled the showcase."

Jongin reacted to that. "What!" He bellowed, standing up from his bed, unabashedly staring at the other male, even though he was still .

Sehun looked away. "Dude, seriously."

Jongin cursed again before bending down and hastily sliding on a pair of low slung jeans. He zipped, but didn't button them and stomped over to the corner of the room. Snatching his grey hoodie off the floor, he turned and stalked towards the door; shirtless, sockless and shoeless. 

"Hey, wait! I didn't even tell you why!"

"Why!" Jongin yelled back, already in the hallway.

They were out the door and down the stairs before Sehun finally caught up to Jongin and pulled him to a stop by crooking a finger in the belt loops of the other's jeans. "Hyung said we're doing Spring Workshops instead."

This did not pacify Jongin. He jerked his body out of Sehun's grasp and kept stalking through the crowded hallway. 

Meanwhile, the voices around them started to grow. From a squeal here, to frenzied whispers there, it seemed slowly but surely, everyone was starting to take notice of a very ily bed-headed and shirtless Jongin moving through the crowd like a wild beast. The light trail of hair peeking out from his ed jeans was like a blinking runway leading down to the jumbo jet that was set to take-off in his pants, because of course Jongin had a case of morning wood. After all, he's been having some interesting dreams lately. But aside from that, it's all jutting, deep v, hip bones that makes toes curl and tongues salivate, and a long tanned torso with lightly muscled abs-

"Oh, Jesus! Why'd you even bring the hoodie if you're not even gonna wear it!" Sehun shouted.

Jongin blinked and finally took notice of his state of undress, since clearly the burning eyes and not-so-discreet cat calls were not enough of a giveaway. He roughly pulled the hoodie over his head and continued walking until he got to the main office building.

Aside from his role as Dorm leader, Suho's family was also one of the biggest boosters, which means he knew things that others didn't and he could also pull strings where others couldn't. 

Jongin stalked up to the door to Suho's office and knocked hard. "Hyung, it's me, Jongin."

Sehun leaned against the door and crossed his arms. He raised his hand casually and examined his fingernails before letting out a haughty chuckle.

Jongin glared. "Why are you so annoying."

"Hyung's not here. He took the day off to go shopping," He replied smugly. "Of course you would know that if you just chill out and let me talk! But no, the mighty Kim Jongin does whatever he wants." Sehun huffed.

Jongin felt like he was going to pull his hair out. Or choke the boy standing in front of him. "," He muttered. 

"Yah, watch your mouth."

Sehun's eyes went wide as saucers as he looked over Jongin's shoulder and immediately side-stepped away from the door. "Oh, Sorry Seonsaengnim!" 

Jongin's eyebrows soared as he heard the name. He turned around when he heard a snicker, eyes landing on a smiling Lee Jinki, head of General Admissions and also in charge of transfers, scholarships, and attendees. The newly blonde elder was wide cheeks and a big smile as he was flanked by two also blonde yet towering males. Taller than Jongin and Sehun, which said a lot. 

Sehun was quicker to judge than Jongin, just because Jongin was too into his own head to bother with others. But the two unfamiliar males were dressed head to toe in designer labels probably totaling the cost of one semester's tuition, and they were clearly trying to flaunt it. The taller of the two, held no expression as his eyes sized them up, but the other, with the dark panda-like under eye circles . . . the one snickering behind his hand, Sehun already didn't like him.

"Tao-ssi, Kris-ssi . . . these are some of our best students," Jinki said as he ushered them forward and made both sets of boys greet each other. "This is Kim Jongin, one of our best dancers." 

"Oh, really? I'd like to think of myself as an aspiring dancer," Kris said, his voice such a low baritone it made Sehun swallow. 

"Oh, well that's fantastic. You'll be able to see him perform in the Spring Workshops. He'll represent our Ballet department."

"Pfft!" Tao snickered again, covering his mouth with his hand. "Ballet?"

Sehun narrowed his eyes.

"Well, we'll be showcasing all of our best students in every field of study we have to offer," Jinki explained.

"But it's not a showcase," Jongin countered in a way that was polite yet b with an undertone of irritation.

"Any performance is a chance to spread our voice," Jinki smiled patiently, understandingly, yet pointedly, leaving no room for further discussion. 

"Actually, on second thought," Kris interrupted, "I'd like to see your Art Department." 

"Well then, let me show you," Jinki replied kindly as he ushered Kris and Tao out.

"Psh, Chinese again . . . what is this an invasion?" Sehun murmured, trying to lighten the mood.

Jongin just frowned. 

Sehun sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I expected you to be shocked, just because I know you've been driving yourself crazy with new routines and all, but it's not like you're going to get a part in the background," He laughed lightly, just picturing it. You'll be the male lead in like Swan Lake or something."

Jongin slammed his fist into the closed door of Suho's office, the sound jarring and painfully aggressive.

"Dude, what the-"

"I don't want to dance Swan ing Lake," Jongin seethed. He glared at Sehun, eyes like daggers. "You know how many times I've dan