Kim Jongin is one of those irresponsible people who blows their pile of money on unnecessary crap.

Taemin has been friends with the troublesome male since middle school, when Jongin had dorky metal-braces smiles and not ignorant smirks that makes Taemin want to knock it off the male's face with his fist. The blame of Jongin's messed up image is possibly from the cause of overwhelming stress his father has forced him to take over the company. Somewhere along the way, Jongin is known as "Kai" everyone talks about after a wild party.

The clock on Taemin's pale wall echoes a ticking noise. It is five minutes until two in the morning but Jongin's presence is absent in the silent dorm that they share. The dorms have an incredibly strict curfew rule of midnight. If Jongin is caught sneaking in later than twelve, both of them will be in serious trouble. Somehow with his clever ways, its plausible how Jongin always manage to sneak in successfully. Or Jongin has some unending luck.

A creak of the opened door knocks Taemin out of his worried thoughts, which soon is replaced with pure annoyance when Jongin enters, who is completely wasted and skin bathed with alcohol.

"Where have you been?" Taemin asks, but he doesn't expect any replies because it is obvious to both of them where Jongin has been. The question is an attempt to make Jongin feel guilty, which never seems to work because the only thing Jongin ever replies is "I love you, Hyung," with a drunken, sheepish grin that Taemin wants to punch off his face if they weren't friends for seven, tortuous years. Jongin never apologizes for his recklessness, ever. And Taemin isn't sure whether because of his enormous ego that was bigger than his brain or Jongin is incapable to feel apologetic about the stupid things he gets into. Whatever it is, Taemin still drags him to their coffee table that barely fits their small dorm, and give him water so he doesn't suffer from dehydration and a hangover tomorrow.

"Hyung, I love you, do you love me?" Jongin looks up at Taemin with crescents and a foolish grin, and Taemin cringes at the musky smell of alcohol that emitted from the younger.

"Not when you're like this," he replies mindlessly, but Jongin takes him seriously and a pout starts to form on his lips. What a five year old, Taemin thinks and stifles a smile. He drags Jongin to the washroom and helps him change out of his clothes since Jongin acts fifteen years younger than his age when he's completely drunk, and Taemin is accustomed to taking care of his friend's difficult . After Taemin has removed ninety-eight percent of Jongin's drunken scent from changing to brushing his teeth, Taemin lays the younger on the couch. He can't afford to have Jongin sleep in the same room because his snores are incredibly loud whenever he's gotten a bunch of drinks down his system. Jongin dozes off quickly, like usual, and all the worry on Taemin shoulders lifts off as soon as he hears his best friend’s first series of snores.

Taemin falls on his side of the bed and sleep finds him eventually.

Taemin opened eyes adjust to his dark room when a pattern of loud snores goes through his ears and a weight being pressed behind his back. His body turns to face Jongin, who somehow has stumbled back to their bedroom without knocking anything over and now sound asleep. Which is not surprising because Jongin could easily find his way to their dorm even when he is drunk.

Taemin doesn't dare to disrupt his sleep despite all the noise he's producing from his snores. Without knowing, Taemin stares at Jongin’s face. He looks like any average teenage boy without any broken dreams, strict parent, and a bad addiction when he's sleeping. Taemin misses Jongin, before he became Kai – before he was like this – before both of them encountered with the harsh, real world. He presses his lips on Jongin's nose, quick and simple but the action speaks louder than anything he can ever say to Jongin. After some time, Taemin decides that he's tired and his heavy eyes shut close again, returning to dream land.

Taemin dreamt a funny dream. So funny that he thought it was real. It starts with him waking up to the empty side of the bed. Typical for a Saturday because Jongin is always up early so he can dash off to another party.

This dream is weird, though. He hears noises from his kitchen and that sent chills at the back of his spine. Who would be intruding at this ungodly hour? But Taemin is smart and Taemin is strong and Taemin is not a wimp and Taemin is clever, so he grabbs the first helpful thing within his reach as a weapon: a goddamn Furby. It's Jongin's (don't ask why his best friend owes one in the first place). He crouches down and silently crawls to the kitchen, making himself less obvious as possible. Just as he makes it to the kitchen, the figure turns around, leaving Taemin almost chokes on his own saliva.

"G'morning Hyung." chirps the intruder, who turns out to be Jongin. "Why do you have my Furby in your hand?"

Taemin looks back to his raised arm that was about to throw the creepy stuffed animal at the "intruder." He admits that he looks pretty stupid. "Um, huh? Nothing? Haha." Then Taemin stands up and places the Furby on the counter like he did not just do something ridiculous. He stares back at the younger, who's holding a pan over the stove with one hand and cracked egg shells in the other. Jongin is making breakfast, ha! A hilarious dream this is.

He can actually smell the eggs.

Jongin just bumps into him and he feels his skin being brushed by Jongin’s.

One darn realistic dream.

"Jongin, pinch me," he tells his roommate urgently.

"Why? Are you okay, Taemin?" asks Jongin with his brows etching into a confused look.

Taemin pinches himself instead and he yelps out in a manly manner (Jongin thinks it sounded more like a girl shriek) as he almost drew blood from that painful squeeze. The realization hits him that this is real and definitely not a dream.

Jongin is awake, on a Saturday, making breakfast, and they're having a sober conversation. It's still too good to be true.

"Yeah! But are you?!" he shouts, knowing well that he’s freaking out about everything. He doesn't care that he's overreacting because this is rare.

"I'm fine. Better than ever, actually," replies Jongin enthusiastically. "Why?"

"I should be asking you that! Did you hit your head on the way back or something? What's with this?" He points frantically at Jongin's face and then the sizzling pan.

"No, just sit down, Hyung. Have some breakfast."

"Did you break something?"

"No."

"Did you get into big trouble?"

"Of course not."

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing, Hyung, do I need a reason for being normal for once?" Jongin asks, running out of his patience and Taemin senses it. That causes him to stop prying more into it. A few minutes later, Jongin struts to their dining table with two plates of eggs, hash brown, French toasts and three strips of bacon for Taemin – just a reminder that Jongin knows Taemin’s taste by heart, and same goes for Taemin.

Okay, just what is going on. Jongin is nudging him to eat and looking at him with puppy eyes, acting normal as if he hasn't messing around and getting his drunk off for the past two years. Taemin picks up his forks and eats it anyway, Jongin isn't that insane to poison him or anything, well, he assumes.

"It's good," he compliments honestly. That plasters a wide grin on Jongin's face, then he picks up his forks and digs into his food. They finish their breakfast in utter silence with a hint of awkwardness, because they haven't had a real conversation in what, months? Years? What would be appropriate to say to each other? ("Why are you acting like uh... you're sober?" "Oh, did you have fun drinking?" "Oh, also, Jongin, can you stop messing around because I am so very in love with you?") Ha-ing-ha, yeah right. None of that sounds like a casual conversation. Definitely not the last one. Taemin will never confess his feelings for Jongin, to save awkward friendships and some cliché of unrequited love.

Just as when Taemin stands up to put away his plate in the sink, Jongin beats him to it. "I'll wash it."

Jongin doesn't do chores. He never touches a single flick of dust. It's odd. Strange. Bizarre. Any word found in the dictionary does not fit how Taemin uneasy feels at the moment. But as long as he is free from touching those dirty dishes, he's good.

Taemin scatters his body lazily on the couch and runs through the channel randomly, hoping to catch something decent to watch. The rerun of the drama Heirs is on. It's not so bad and his thumb is sore from pressing the "next" button on the remote so he leaves it at that. After some time, Jongin has finished with washing, and unexpectedly, all of the dinnerware are still intact.

Because of Taemin's position and the couch small length in size, Jongin nicely asks him to scoot over, in which Taemin replies back with a mean "there's no room left." That earned Taemin a kick to the stomach with a side mutter of “You ,” from Jongin. Although it doesn't hurt and purely playfulness, Taemin still sits up and glares at his best friend. Jongin plops down in triumphant and shoves Taemin's head right onto his lap, something they used to do when they watched television together back then. The gesture results Taemin to get flustered by himself, in hopes that Jongin won't notice his reddened face or at least won't point it out.

Jongin plays with Taemin's soft, chestnut hair here and there with eyes still focus on the screen, a habit that he never gets rid of. Taemin hates it usually, but he's extra quiet today. He's going to play along with whatever act Jongin is putting up – or whatever he tries to hide – and makes the most out of it. Jongin's probably going to his messed up self tomorrow again, and Taemin is not going to like it as much as he likes Jongin's normal self now.

"Wait, so this whole drama is about how that Lee Minho, Kim Tan or whatever, is in 'love'–" Jongin quotes the air with the word "love" "– with a girl he is obviously infatuated over? They just met like a few days ago. What the ?"

There's one thing Taemin knows best: Jongin doesn't understand drama. He never did and surely never will. The elder cracks up at his friend’s genuine confusion and Jongin laughs along too; it feels like old times again.

Taemin filters out the sound of everything after their laughter has died down. He lets his thoughts takes him away. He thinks too much and he knows it well. His worries consist of his future and Jongin, Jongin’s future, and their future. What's their relationship, anyway? Best friends? But friends don't go asking if they love them or steal nose kisses when the other is sleeping or let them lay on your lap to watch television or stay up until morning hours just to wait for them to be home safely.

Their relationship is utmost complicated. Even more complicated than calculus, and calculus is pretty damn difficult. But at least calculus had answers, and ways to solve them. How do you solve a relationship that's along the lines of friendship and a bit more than that? Both never spoke about their feelings. Or relationships, even when Jongin fooled around, Taemin says nothing or when Taemin gets a girlfriend occasionally, Jongin never share an opinion. Girls are nice, Taemin thinks, he goes on a couple dates to distract his mind about Jongin. They have colorful manicured nails and long hair and glossy lips. But are they nearly six feet, tanned skin, soft plump lips, and knows that he weeps after watching a marathon of sad animes? No.

In conclusion, no one compares to Jongin and that's the flaw. Jongin and he are much like strangers, distant friends that are tied by a long strings of memories and commitment to stay together. Sometimes he has the urges to ditch his drunk, helpless but seven years is too much of memories, too painful, too a-hell-lot-of deep and Taemin regrets even offering him his banana milk that started their friendship.

"Does that thing really work?" Jongin's voices over his thoughts.

Taemin is about to ask “what” but Jongin's eyes are still on the episode of Heirs, where Kim Tan takes Cha Eunsang to Hollywood in a theater and uses his famous line of "Do I like you?" Jongin probably implies that if the line works on girls.

"Yeah, probably. If they're into delusional, emotional ."

"You're into delusional, emotional ."

"Animes are different." Taemin defensively glares upward from his position.

"Yeah, that makes it whole lot better." Jongin snorts.

Taemin disregards Jongin’s contrasting opinions. It’s not like he can understand anime as much as Taemin does anyway, so might as well save his breath.

When he closes his eyes as the commercials came on, Jongin calls out to him again. "Taemin."

"What?" he answers with much annoyance but Jongin’s face remains unfazed. Staring down at Taemin with tender eyes – and Taemin wants to scream for him to stop those tender eyes. His heart beats at the sudden change of mood. "I said what?" He tries to sound impatient.

"Do I... like you?"

Five seconds of wide eyes and there's a playful tug at Jongin's lips, he notices. Little bastard, he must like seeing Taemin so off guard. Taemin stands up with great force and knocks his head purposely on Jongin's face.

"Hell yeah you do, you ing love me." Taemin replies bashfully and struts to the kitchen to hide his red face and racing heart before Jongin could ever witness.

Jongin believes that God sent him Taemin as an angel above. He has always been thankful Taemin barges in his life suddenly, and stays there for the longest time. One day in middle school, Jongin sobbed at the back of the school, something about his father (everything bad in his life was the cause of his father). A bowl-cut hair kid tapped him on the shoulder with the brightest smile he had ever seen. Was he making fun of Jongin because he was a boy and he was crying? Unexpectedly, he dug his hand into his backpack and soon a banana milk was given to him. Jongin drank the milk in complete silence. Taemin accompanied him the whole time until his tears began to dry up. They decided to devote all of their time together since then. Taemin childishly suggested that Jongin should call him “Hyung,” although he’s only a few months older than the latter. (Jongin only calls him that most of the time to satisfy the youngest of his other relationships.)

Truthfully, Jongin is never fully drunk, but only drunk enough to remember vaguely what happened the night before.

He admits he does stupid things that pleases the people at the party, but not too much that it considers illegal. Everything comes down to his favorite part of the day, when Taemin is worried, sitting and waiting for Jongin at home. It’s the affection he lacks from his family and he is so blessed that Taemin is the one who doesn’t give up on Jongin like everyone else in his life. Despite how he takes advantages of the situation, Jongin wishes there were other ways to gain Taemin’s attention.

“Hyung, I love you.” He means it in the deepest of his heart every time he has said it, whether drunk or close-to-sober. It’s better than an apology, because he’ll repeat the same mistake even after he tells Taemin he’s sorry. Unfortunately, Taemin never acknowledges that and replies with anything else except the four words that implies he also loves Jongin back.

Jongin only knows it himself that he was a disappointment to his best friend.

Taemin takes a nap. He sleeps a lot when he gets the chance, cut him some slack, he stays up until 2 to 6 in the morning just to wait for Jongin to drag his back – then wakes up about five in the afternoon. The house falls silence and he has assumed Jongin probably whips himself up to another party by now. He drags himself to the bathroom and splashes his face, then takes a trip to the kitchen. He frowns at the empty fridge in front of him, if only Jongin doesn’t spend his money on clubbing and parties then his stomach wouldn’t be growling right now.

“Taemin, are you hungry?”

Taemin jumps at the voice. “JESUS CHRIST DON’T SCARE ME.” Taemin puts his hand over his racing heart. “Why are you home?” he says after he’s calm.

“Do you not want me to be?” Jongin says disappointedly.

“No, I’m just asking. It’s not typical for you to be here all day.” He doesn’t intend to sound so unpleasant to Jongin but it comes out harsh.

Thankfully, it has no affect Jongin. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Eat.”

Ten minutes and a half later, Jongin and Taemin ends up at McDonalds ordering fries, two Big Macs, chicken sandwich for Jongin, twenty chicken nuggets, a McFlurry, and Coke for Jongin. Their taste hasn’t change. Taemin reminisces on the memories of when they just move into the dorm. Too lazy to cook anything, Taemin finds the closest fast food place to their house. Memories like that makes him nostalgic of the past.

“Taemin,” Jongin is cracking up, bits and pieces of chicken flew out of his mouth. Taemin threw his fries at him with a scowl.

“Gross, don’t laugh with food in your mouth. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“No but Hyung,” Jongin’s laugh rings louder. “Remember when you thought the McFlurry’s spoon was a straw? So you kept on it and you even asked the employee that there’s something wrong with the straw? But it’s actually a spoon?”

He wants to face palm at his embarrassing self. “Shut up, you didn’t know either, okay?”

“Yeah but you looked incredibly dumb,” Jongin jesters.

Taemin scoffs. "Dumb enough to stay in the friendship with you."

What is meant to be a light joke for Taemin takes a different toll on Jongin. His grin no longer visible as he puts his attention on studying the uninteresting hamburger bun. Taemin feels five thousand swords stab through his interior. Guilt swallows him whole and he wishes he can take back words or go back in time. Only thirty seconds ago is enough.

Taemin parts his lips to explain, "Jongin, no, I don't mean that. I'm sorry—"

Jongin shakes his head, still avoiding eye contact. "No, I understand where you're coming from. I am a hassle and sometimes I know you feel like you're babysitting me. I'm all types of screwed up, right?"

 Taemin remains unmoving on the spot. A chillness coursing around him. This is the talk he expects will happen sooner or later, but he never expects it would take place in public. He glances around, scanning heads that were too busy to even bother sparing their attention at them. He is relieved at that, but not so much when he turns back on Jongin, who still waits for the answer Taemin isn't sure how to answer.

"Can we at least discuss this later?" Taemin replies in a hush manner.

Jongin does not show any disappoint, only nods in comprehension.

What started as a memory lane only goes downhill to a lunch of awkward stillness. It gets worse in the car, when no one dares to say a single word or simply make movement. Taemin wonders if this is how the calm before the storm feels like. An eerie peace that leaves you sense all sorts of uneasiness.

They enter the dorm with the same demeanors as before. Taemin stays standing, anxious and not really knowing how to deal with Jongin like this. Maybe it’s easier if Jongin was intoxicated, or he was, or both of them were. Because when alcohol touches your lips, things that are unspoken will spill out in ease.

Their eyes meet for a millisecond, until Jongin breaks it and stares at his clenching palms. He voices his thoughts, “I know I’m a disappointment. I’ve always been.”

Taemin is about to interject to that statement but Jongin cuts him in.

“My mom divorced my dad because I was a troublesome kid, and she thought I was unbearable to raise. And you already know that. How my dad doesn’t even see me as his son. Nothing I ever do pleases him. And to you, I’m just a burden. A kid who gets himself into things and you try to drag me out of this and . . . I don’t know where I’m leading this conversation to. I’m rambling.” Jongin exhales sharply. “Please say something, Hyung, say you agree or something. Otherwise it’s just a pathetic reflection of self-pity.”

When Taemin does not say anything for a beat too long, Jongin looks up desperately, only to see the older male biting down on his lips. It’s true Jongin can be a pain sometimes. It’s true that Jongin makes Taemin want to reconsider their friendship. But—“What your parents think of you doen’t define you. Nor does your addiction, or your behaviors when you’re not in the right state of mind.”

Jongin blinks, stunned for a moment, then swallows a shaky breath. “Y-yeah. Thanks I…” he pauses, running a hand over his hair. His trembling hands go unnoticed by Taemin. “I’m going to try to quit drinking.”

Taemin’s ears perk up at that. “You are?”

Jongin forms a shy, but terrified smile. “Yeah, I’m going to meet a specialist to help me. Baby steps.”

Taemin nods gently, catching himself speechless at the sparks of determination radiating from Jongin. “Baby steps is good.” A joyful warmth originates from Taemin’s chest to every nerve ending. “Jongin, can I hug you?”

 But Taemin is impatient, so he dives in before Jongin can mutter a reply. They bump each other with a soft, “Oof!” and almost head-banging each other’s’ skulls. Jongin does something unexpected where he plants a kiss on Taemin’s temple. And Taemin wants to grip on Jongin’s shirt collar in frustration and demands an explanation whether that was completely platonic or something deeper behind it. But he likes Jongin like this—fresh of soap and cologne minus the unpleasant smell of whiskey—too much to say anything.

Maybe he will save the question for later.

Maybe Jongin is as dense as he is.

Maybe their undefined relationship reaches a little over the line of just friends.

It gets tiring to analyze everything Jongin does. His head swims in a wavering pool of maybe’s, but the loving glim behind Jongin’s eyes assures him otherwise.

*honestly thinks this is so ehh because my different writing styles but doesn't want to hide this away in my files, and also is thankful you guys read it to the end of this icky lil thing*