"So you really can't come?" 

Taemin shakes his head and remembers a split second later that it's a phone call. He drags out a sigh instead, too upset to elaborate, and Jongin stays silent on the line, letting the finality of the decision sinks in. His elbows are propped on the railing, the night sky staring back at him, and thoughts of how much he doesn't want to stay home like his parents has asked before leaving for an overnight business flight consumed his mind. Half of him wants to be rebellious, going to a pointless party for the excuse of seeing his boyfriend, and neglecting the responsibility of watching the house for the night. But the other half—the obedient son, someone who doesn't want to abuse his parents' trust—knows he isn't like that. 

Jongin understands, of course he does. He has seen the closeness of Taemin's relationship with his parents, and he knows that the last thing Taemin wants is to feel guilty about lying to them. 

"It's fine," Taemin convinces, an attempt of brushing off his low spirit, also not really wanting to burden Jongin. But Jongin hears the underlying loneliness in his reply and believes otherwise. 

Taemin mindlessly glides his fingers along the soft feathers on his dreamcatcher. It takes away your bad dreams, Jongin once claimed as he stood on a stool, looping the object on a nail outside Taemin's bedroom. He isn't sure if it works, but it's certainly pretty to look at. 

He reminds himself to hang up then, since Jongin isn't saying anything and he isn't either. Not that he minds the silence—he always finds it has calming effect—but because he decides to prevent holding Jongin back from enjoying the party. Though before he gets the chance to wrap the conversation up, Jongin speaks, "What are you wearing right now?"

The sudden randomness was so unexpected, he almost laughs. "That's such a weird question." He switches his phone to the other hand, body turning so his back is leaned against the railing. "Sweatpants and a light crew neck, what else would I wear to sleep? Jeans?"

"Okay, stay awake, yeah?"

Taemin has no clue to what he is up to. Nonetheless, he replies back an affirmative and the phone call ended at that. He wraps his arms around himself as the chill of the summer breeze starts to kick in. Stars are clustered everywhere tonight. It reminds him to the tales of constellations that his dad used to tell him as bedtime stories. He recalls then that those were his favorite moments growing up. A faint smile works his lips, remembering weekends where his dad snuck him out to the backyard without mom's knowledge, soft whispers of which constellation is which. 

He wishes he hasn't grown up so quickly.

Just about the weight of his eyelids becomes heavier, Jongin's request for him to stay awake alerts his senses again. He draws his palms up to discard the sleepiness away. And it's unexpectedly difficult, because all he desires to do right then is to hit the bed, just so it will drain out the loneliness in him. 

Some time later, sounds of car wheels roll into his street, and he cranes his neck to get a better peek of the vehicle. As he recognizes that it's Jongin's, his heart jumps to his throat and he's pacing down the stairs with no second thoughts. The door is unlocked in time for Taemin to witness Jongin's headlights and engined are turned off, and his boyfriend is stationed at the open trunk. It comes to Taemin's surprise that his boyfriend isn't wearing casual attire for the party like he expected, instead, he sports similar looking to his own dark sweats which gradually hangs tighter at the bottom, and a nice white v-neck tops with a cardigan. He looks stunning nonetheless, with the street lamp illuminating his complexion and everything. 

"What are you doing here?" asks Taemin, not caring that he is currently barefoot.

Jongin grins. And to think how unfair it is, that all of his troubles are washed away by a single smile. "You can't go out to a party. So I'm bringing the party to you."

"What kind of party only consists of two people?" he grins back.

"A very good one," Jongin replies. "Help me carry these things please?"

There's a lump in Taemin's throat because that's literally the nicest thing anybody has ever done for him. But he doesn't admit that, since he's never good with expressing his feelings. So then he promptly mutters a silent "of course," and makes around two trips to carry everything inside. 

Jongin is the last one in. The door is shut close and carefully locked by him. When the plastic bags make a rustling sound as Taemin sets them on the kitchen island like he was told, Jongin notices something. "Is that my crew neck?"

It is no need for Taemin to look down to confirm it, he feels heat creeping up his cheeks. "Yeah, it's really comfortable so . . . And I couldn't find anything else to wear. I'll return it as soon as it's been cleaned in the laundry."

Jongin shakes his head firmly, beginning to empty the items out of the bags. "No, keep it. I like the way it looks on you."

His cheeks grow redder then, but the effect is short-lived because he spots a Nutella container in one of the bags. "Oh my god."

Jongin's eyes follow to what he's staring at. "I bought strawberries too, knowing how much you love the combination of both." 

"I really want to kiss you right now." Jongin chuckles softly at the declaration, and Taemin hides his disappointment because he's actually super serious about that. However, his eyes trail on something else, and he's gaping at the bottle. "How did you manage to buy wine?" 

"I didn't. Stole one from my mom's cabinet."

If it was any other day, Taemin would point out how both of them are underage and shouldn't be bending the law. But with all the spontaneous turn of events, he doesn't find it in himself to feel so uptight about it. It's probably one time thing for them, anyway. Yet a little concerned, he suggests, "If you drink, you shouldn't drive home later."

Jongin doesn't look up from his cutting board, concentrating on cutting the leaves off the strawberries in order for them to dip in Nutella later. Taemin takes the advantage to glimpse at him, then admiring the way his dark lashes flutter when he averts his attention at Taemin. "Then I'll stay the night. Is it alright with you?" 

It's all he ever wanted, he doesn't confess. 

He nods gently. "It's alright with me."

When snacks are finished prepping, (which is no easy task according to how frequently Taemin would sneak a bite despite being advised not to), they set the chips and candies into bowls (also not an easy task) and enter the living room.  

The living room is the nicest place in his house, he believes, beating his backyard by a mere centimeter. The chandelier acts as a center piece, accompany by the stark, black wood furnitures in the room and cream colored lace curtains. Underneath the white leather sofa is a full size rug that has a nice shade of gray, and he internally notes to not spill red wine on top. He helps pushing the furnitures beside the wall to widen the space. At one point, both laugh at noise being produced by dragging the table across the room. Taemin doesn't know if they're laughing because it's funny or are giddy on the freedom of spending time alone together. He settles that it's a bit of both. 

Jongin whips out a boom box then, who uses boom boxes anymore? People own higher technology like bluetooth speakers, but no, there's an actual boom box on the table. It's quite adorable. Jongin's face contorts as he takes the first sip of the wine. "This is lukewarm," he comments, then proceeds to go to the kitchen and pops ice in both wine glasses. 

"Jongin this isn't beer, you're supposed to chill the wine in the fridge before drinking. Who puts ice into wine?" A laugh escapes him.

"Me, apparently. I would've taken the bottle in my fridge, but it's half empty so mom would put two and two together."

Taemin rolls his eyes although finds that it's completely endearing. He keeps that thought to himself.

Jongin drinks the wine, seemingly more satisfied with the cold taste, and fiddles with a cd case in one hand. Taemin pops the lid of the boom box open, absentmindedly reading Jongin's handwriting on the silver disc. It says, playlist for just the right dance party.

"I didn't know you make mixed CDs." 

Even in the car, Jongin turns on his radio if they need music, or sometimes music from albums. Never has Taemin seen Jongin's own personal playlists.

"It's not something interesting to mention."

He ignores Jongin's statement, promptly fixing his eyes on the small collection CD cases inside his backpack. "Can I see them?"

"Sure."

The stack is a handful, and Taemin skims through them with interest. Some of them are straightforward as "when happy," "rainy days playlist," and "music for better focus." While the other titles are more specific like "sleepless nights and my mind keeps running," "I'm so upset and only music can make me feel a bit better," and "some things I can't seem to out into words but these songs did an awesome job." He pauses on the one that titles, "songs Taemin might like."

His heart is swelling up and the only sensible thing running through his head is why is it so nice knowing someone is thinking of you? He's staring for so long that Jongin grows worried and tilts the boy's chin with his fingers. "You okay?"

"Yeah just..." Taemin's mouth feels dry all of the sudden, therefore he lifts the CD up. 

Jongin flushed. Hand dropping in his lap, questioning his forgetfulness. 

"Can I keep it?"

"Yeah," Jongin might be stammering, "it's supposed to be yours to begin with."

Taemin walks over to a drawer, carefully placing it on top of everything else. How foolish of him, really, to get so happy over such simple things.

The music in Jongin's playlist consists of alternative bands or indie pop that Taemin believes the cool kids would typically listen to during a spring break beach party. Well, it has that kind of vibe to it. 

At first, their movements are forced and shy, hands clapping and swiveling their bodies to the beat. However, after the adrenaline and tipsiness start to kick in, dancing comes naturally effortless to them. Both can't stop wiping the grins of their face for some reason, and their eyes are glued on one another. With cheeks flushing a hint rosy pink from the wine, Jongin pauses to pull Taemin to him. 

"Let's slow dance," he suggests, hands curling around the shorter boy's waist.

And Taemin is full of laughter. "It's an upbeat song, and you want to slow dance," he muses. The rhythm is fast, pounding against their eardrums, though not too loud for the neighbors to complain, and Taemin doesn't know if that's the cause of his beating heart or it's just Jongin's presence so close to him. 

"There are no universal rules to slow dancing," Jongin argues, and Taemin feels obligated to go along, enough to pretend that he's convinced. So he drapes his arms around Jongin's neck, only because he's the shorter one, and that's part of his own universal rule for slow dancing. 

They reduce to a moderate speed, swaying around the same spot, causing Taemin's insides to boil up. He's suddenly so nervous. All he can focus on is the steady melody Jongin is humming in his throat. He may not just lower Jongin's lips on him, and since when did he get so bold?

It's the wine, he blames. It's probably that, or is he dreaming that they're kissing? Because its beginning to look like that, that he's in a dream. And it's possible that he has been dreaming everything from tonight up until now, but if that's the case please please please he's wishing with all his skins and bones and every fiber of his body don't let him wake up from this.

They part when a new song switches on. He recognizes the slow beat, he realizes. He also realizes that he's feverish all over, and Jongin's plush lips match the color of their cheeks.

"This song makes me want to dance under the stars," Taemin confesses, and it's most likely the wine talking that makes him so vulnerably honest. Jongin simply smiles in that soft, beautiful manner of his. With the next thing leads to another, both of them are standing in Taemin's backyard and boom box perching on the ground near the door. Regardless of the music playing idly, Taemin says, "The neighbors might hate us for this."

"Hate us? You mean they will knock on the door and tell us we have good taste in music, then grudgingly demand to have a copy of my playlist?" 

"Sure." He laughs. 

"Hey I wanna try something." Jongin strolls to him again, but this time he grabs Taemin's hand to place it on his shoulder. His own hand lingering upon Taemin's back, and their hands clasping tightly together. "Ballroom dancing." 

"When did this party turn into a dance room?" 

"It's one of a kind party, I'm telling you." Jongin's eyes are small slits when he smiles a toothy grin. Taemin fakes a defeated sigh and lets Jongin spins him in circle, making him even more lightheaded. It's abrupt when Jongin dips him downward and a startled gasp instinctly comes out of his throat. Taemin can make out the moon behind Jongin's head from this view. "Don't worry, I got you, dance partner."

"Don't do that again," says Taemin once he is return into a normal position. 

They may have underestimated this type of dancing, because their toes keep making contact and laughter erupts every time it happens.

("We're quite terrible," Jongin comments. 

"Maybe we're too drunk for this," Taemin responds.

Though both of them know that it isn't true.)

They start to get the hang of it, somewhat, by the time the third track comes on, or at least the toe stepping is brought down to a minimal. The green grass is damp under their bare feet, and if someone were to witness this, they would think that the sight is quite odd. Two kids dancing in a backyard with their sleeping clothes on, underneath the starry sky during the middle of the night.

Neither of them seem to care.

Because it's the essence of living in the moment that leads them to simply go with the flow, despite the outrageousness of it all. 

Taemin thinks he's lucky.

There are people in this world who are currently awake because they're out of love; everybody deserves to feel how like this . . . this unending happiness that's overflowing to the point that he can't contain it all in. 

Jongin's eyes glisten from to the moon casting in light and there's no doubt his own are shimmering, too. There are so much they don't say and so much they do say. Their hushed love declarations get lost somewhere amidst the summer breeze. Both of them keep cracking up too, not understanding why, and the wind has ruined the look of Jongin's hair, but that isn't why they're laughing. 

Honestly, nothing is exceptionally funny, but together like this is the epitome of perfection. And despite these truths spilling out of his tongue tonight, there's one secret he remains hidden.

It's something runs that through his head whenever the boy is around. Something he's constantly thinking about. A truth that exists too far long ago for him to recall the first moment it has started to overtake his mind.

It's as obvious as how the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. It makes him forget about the constellations, because Jongin is his favorite star.

idk why i like this one so dearly...it's different and by far my favorite out of all that i have written
i guess its because i am in love with the idea of love and wanted to capture that in words and yeah
i've been listening to a lot of rad songs and they inspired the mood of this LOL I ACTUALLY MADE A MIXED CD TOO
here are some if u wanna listen (click on the flowers)

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LAST BUT NOT LEAST I GOT IDEA FROM THIS SONG AND TY FOR READING