Searching for Meaning

The funny thing about time, is that while some things can change drastically, other things seems to stay painfully the same. Case in point being when lunchtime rolls around and Taemin walks up to his locker, there's yet again, a piece of paper stuck to the front.

Not this time, instead simply . . . . 

Which is comical, really, and Taemin sees the irony in it, to the point that he smiles and walks up to his locker with an unusual amount of aloofness. He ignores the words and the paper, opens his locker and puts his books inside.

"Agh, again?" comes a deep voice. Taemin peeks from behind his open locker door and spots Minho a few feet away, soccer ball in hand and cleats adorning his feet, but his expression is one of surprised disgust. Taemin frowns for a second as he shuts the door to his locker slowly, but then suddenly realizes. "Oh! I forgot!"

"Forgot what?" Minho asks absently as he walks up to the other boy, his eyes focused on the degrading text currently on display. Taemin notices the other boy's distracted gaze and he too turns his head to look back at the note. "That . . . we were gonna play today," Taemin says slowly as he watches Minho's hand reach up to snatch the paper off his locker.

"No wait!" Taemin shouts, his hand shooting out and catching Minho's hand.

Minho turns, eyes wide and lips jutting out, completely baffled by the younger.  "You want this on your locker?!"

Taemin's a little surprised at how mad the other boy is. I mean it's not like the word is directed at him, so why should he care so much? He gives the taller boy a look as he brings their hands back down. "Of course I don't want it there, but it doesn't matter. If you take it down, another one will just replace it."

Minho frowns. "So you just ignore it?"

Taemin shrugs as he reads the word again.

   S L U T

It has no meaning to him. He knows it's suppose to hurt him and embarrass him, but he's been there and done that by now. 

However, as he feels the eyes of his classmates and hears the snickers and whispers under their breaths, he supposes it's not really just about him anymore.

And he suddenly begins to feel sorry for Minho. Who, regardless of how far his status may be boggled down by his association with the "weird, awkward, , , pretty boy that doesn't talk a lot" he still keeps coming back, asking him to play soccer for their forty-five minute lunch hour day after day.

He doesn't want the word to hurt or embarrass his new . . . friend? So he does the only thing he can think of.

Taemin takes out a black fine tip sharpie from his pocket. He writes an A in between the S and L, and an E after the T.

"There. Much better, right?" Taemin smiles and looks back at Minho.

Minho stares in amused amazement at the piece of paper taped to Taemin's locker. What was once a derogatory lie magically transformed into a gesture of pride. So simple, yet so different.

                     SAL U TE

"I didn't ignore it. I just changed it's meaning."

Minho smiles down at the younger and ruffles his hair, a warmhearted feeling overtaking him. He doesn't know when the need to protect him from whoever found it necessary to bring him down began, but he supposes the best way to do that is to show him what true friends are for. "Come on then, let's go play some soccer."

Taemin laughs and nods excitedly, but also feels a slight apprehension. Like he's cheating on dance with soccer or something, but he ends up shaking his head because that's just crazy.

Taemin follows Minho to the courtyard where they start passing the ball back and forth. Unfortunately, Taemin forgot his cleats, so he's stuck playing in sneakers and jeans, but that's no big deal. The sun is bright and the wind is slight, which makes the day absolutely perfect.

One thing's for sure, Taemin has been around guys his whole life. His brother, his cousin, Jonghyun from the club, Suho from church, and his boss, Xiumin, but he can tell you for a fact that none of them are like Kim Jongin.

And he only recently started to understand the difference, particularly when he talks with Minho. The boy whose tall, tan and baritone just like the dancer, but the two might as well be like fire and ice, for they feel entirely different.

Minho lets out a breath as he passes the ball to Taemin. "So, your crazy cousin, where does he go to school?"

Taemin smiles as he catches the ball with the side of his foot and starts moving towards the goal with it. "Oh, Key dropped out," he says, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Minho moves forward to try and steal the ball from Taemin. "Dropped out? Why?"

Taemin's quick on his feet and manages to evade Minho's long legs that try and come in between his. "Oh you know . . . family stuff. He needed to help out with the business. A certain club," he says shyly and looks up from the ball.

Minho seizes the chance of distraction and steals the ball away, kicking it up and bumping it with his knee in the opposite direction Taemin was taking it in.

"Hey, no fair!" Taemin whines as he turns and runs after the ball.

"Hahaha . . . you need to learn to talk and play at the same time."

"Well, you're supposed to go easy on me. I'm a beginner!" Taemin yells as he catches up to the other boy.

 Minho chuckles. "Please, if I did that, you'd never get any better."

Taemin rolls his eyes as he tries to steal the ball. Their legs tangle together before Taemin trips and falls back on his .

Taemin feels the grass under his hands and the slight pain in his rear as he sighs and takes in a refreshing breath. He lies all the way down.

Minho chuckles and joins him on the grass. After a moment or two of sky gazing, he suddenly speaks, "Man, I could never imagine having to quit school."

Taemin rolls on his side and plays with the grass. "Key seems ok with it actually. I mean, there's a lot of things you can do without school."

Minho nods and gazes at the younger. "Like you with your dancing?"

Taemin shrugs. "Sure if that's what I wanted to do," he says, not looking up.

Minho raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Is it not?"

Taemin pouts. "I thought I might try and become a professional soccer player."

At which, Minho snorts and looks cross eyed at the giggling boy. "That's only funny because that's exactly what I'm supposed to do."

Taemin stops laughing in surprise. "Really?"

"Really."

"You don't too sound excited?" Taemin questions.

Minho shrugs. "I guess it's fine. I mean I like soccer and I'm good at it, I just wish I had the choice though. You know, to just do whatever."
      
"Why, what do you want to do?"

Minho makes an L shape with his fingers and then brings both hands together like a square. He peers at Taemin through his imaginary camera. "When I was little I really wanted to be a photographer."

"I see." Taemin smiles.

"What about you?"

"Me? Oh, after high school, I'll hopefully be able to go full-time at the coffee shop."

"To save money?"

"Yeah."

"For what?"

"Minho-yah!" 

Both boys sit up at the girly shriek from across the field. Taemin sees a dark-haired rather tall girl running over to them and starts to get up. 

"Sulli, don't run, you'll fall!" Minho yells. "She's so clumsy." He chuckles.

As stated before, Taemin's been around guys his whole life and he knows what girls mean: trouble. So he avoids them at all costs and since Minho seems familiar with the pretty girl, it's probably his girlfriend so he hastily makes his exit.

"Hey I gotta pee really bad, I'll catch up with you later," he says and dashes away.

"Wait!" Minho calls as soon as Sulli reaches him, but Taemin's long gone. 

Sulli places her hands on her knees and takes a deep breath. "Isn't that, that weird guy?"

Minho frowns at the girl. "Don't say that! Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

She looks up through her lashes, a smile on her face. "I don't know, Oppa, did they?" She teases her brother.

Five hours later

Across town in the very familiar coffee shop, Jongin can't keep his knee still under the table as he waits for his companion to arrive. To say that he's on edge would be an understatement, but he'll do his best to remain calm. He's not sure what the boy knows or what he's willing to tell him, but he's going to try to pry for answers none-the-less.

Twenty minutes later the door opens and in walks the boy with big eyes. He spots Jongin easily. The boy's dark hair is half matted with sweat and half in a messy disarray that seems startlingly attractive. He can spot the differences though, in skin tone and facial structure . . . but the brooding countenance, the unwavering air, is exactly the same.

He takes a deep breath and makes his way into the booth across from the boy.

"Hey," D.O. starts.

Jongin stares straight ahead, suddenly unsure of how to begin.

"So, cute place, huh?" D.O offers, his eyes scanning the quaint shop, but he's really just trying to break the ice.

"Why are you here?" Jongin asks.  

D.O.'s a little startled, he looks around confused. "Weren't you the one who asked me to come?"

Jongin shakes his head. "Not here here. I mean why are you assisting Chanyeol?"

D.O. levels his gaze. "You mean, did I know you would be one of the dancers he was going to be working with?"

Jongin's eyes barely flinch, he's not going to give anything away. Not until he finds out whose side this D.O. is on.     

"I didn't know." 

Jongin can't tell if he's is lying or not. He crosses his arms over his chest. "So now that you know. Do you have something to tell me?"

"Yes, but not what you think."

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

"No, but you two are far more similar than I imagined. Both bossy and stubborn."

Jongin squints. This isn't going to be easy, so he tries a different approach. "So how well did you know my sister?"

D.O. lets out a breath as he brings his hands to rest on the table. "I met her when she first joined the company. I was working in the admissions office a