For thedarkestalley, furthersouth (AFF) and taeminhyunho (AO3)

Taehyun walks briskly through the streets of Sydney. Fall here is a little bit hotter than Korea’s and it makes cloth choices a bit harder but he doesn’t really mind. Like he doesn’t mind being miles away from everything. Taehyun is wearing a simple pale grey shirt under a black cardigan as he waits for the stop light to turn green. He overhears a couple of ladies nearby talking about how attractive he is and he subconsciously looks over his shoulder to see them smiling at him. Taehyun returns their smile politely and strides away as soon as the light changes.

He had been living in Australia for nine months now. Unlike what Taehyun initially anticipated, the program does not only cover one semester and instead covers almost a year and it is too late to back out when he learned about it.

Also, staying longer in Australia means having more time to spend away from Minho.

Means more time to forget.

AUTUMN

3:

time of change, maturity, beauty, sadness and end

He rummages for his phone and touches the key attached to it through a chain. It’s the key to Minho’s flat – one that he never wants to visit again. So his brows meet as he thought of why he’s still keeping it if he intends to never be there again.

He looks at his phone wearily, remembering that night.

“Yes hello?”

“Nam Taehyun?”

“Mister Lee?” Their university dean. “Sir, why did you call?”

A few static lines. “Are you busy at the moment?” Yes he is, but he isn’t given the chance to answer. “Your home-stay accommodators are in my office. They would like to see you.”

Taehyun held back a sigh, “Actually I’m – ”

“Oh I can see you by the hall,” And at its worst time, their dean emerges from the hallway. Taehyun fakes a smile and closes his phone.

He didn’t get to leave the university until seven.

It’s already nine by the time Taehyun reaches Minho’s apartment, the key fumbling in his hands as he tries to hold onto the bag of groceries he bought on his way there.

When he finally opens the door, he’s greeted by the smell of rotten trash and dirty laundry. Taehyun covers his nose and places the bags atop the table. He scans the room again and sure enough, the whole place is a mess.

He takes another step and sees Minho on the living room floor, staring silently into a documentary about the existence of aliens, sprawled flat on his stomach.

Taehyun sighs, didn’t say a word as he starts to clean up, moving the half-full mugs of coffee from the countertop into the sink.

He twists the faucet, tap water running and starting to fill the sink.

“You finally went to see me.”

Taehyun sighs again, is glad that he’s looking at the plates rather than Minho. “Jinna asked me to come and check on you. She’s worried about you and –”

“When are you going to tell me?” There’s irritation in Minho’s tone, accusal in his voice. “Do you even plan to tell me?”

Taehyun turns around, an annoyed crease between his forehead. The tap water is still running, gushing continuously against the brief stillness of the flat.

Unbelievable. Is the only thing Taehyun thinks of, “It’s not like I needed to tell you –”

Minho clicks his tongue, stands up and strides over the kitchen where Taehyun is. “Why not?” He hissed, breath touching Taehyun’s cheeks. “I am your best friend.”

Taehyun felt something inside him breaking, the words echoing inside his head over and over and over.

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend.

Of course. He’s looking straight into Minho’s eyes, tough but hurt.  “Exactly.” He’s glad it came out steady, “You’re just my friend.”

Minho’s eyes narrows as he closes the distance between them. Taehyun subconsciously takes a step back until he felt the edge of the counter hitting his hip. Minho didn’t stop until there’s no more space between them, both of his arms falling on either side of Taehyun, caging him.

Taehyun musters his remaining strength, tries to ignore the enticing heat from Minho’s body. “I don’t need to tell you everything.” He added, his eyes falling to Minho’s pursed lips then back to his eyes to appear strong. “I have my own life outside of this friendship.”

He spat the last word bitterly, against his better judgment.

Something in Minho’s eyes wavers, “I don’t get what you’re say–”

“Of course you wouldn’t. You don’t know anything.” Taehyun tries to wiggle away from Minho’s grasp, but Minho only closes in further.

“What do you mean by that? That you regret meeting me? That you regret getting involved in my pathetic life?!”

Taehyun’s eyes begin to water. He’s crumbling.

But he can’t let Minho see him so weak.

Does he regret meeting Minho? No.

Does he regret getting involved in his life? No.

Minho is his calmness. His peace.

“…Yes, I regret meeting you.”

*

“Good morning Taehyun,” Bobby, also a Korean but is originally from Sydney, greeted him and Taehyun returns with a smile. Bobby falls in step beside Taehyun, starts to talk about the bands they both liked and that one DJ Bobby has a crush on.

Taehyun’s enjoying the conversation. Bobby is a chatterbox, not to mention he’s fluent in Korean, so it is easy to be with him, a break away from the daily English Taehyun is now very adept of.

 They pass by the corridors overlooking the university oval. There’s a lone man by the school statue, black shirt and pants, reading what seems like a map. Taehyun’s heart jumps at the idea of how the man looks uncannily like Minho, but he convinces himself that it’s just his imagination.

Almost a year and still, Taehyun couldn’t get Minho out of his mind.

Sydney is a distraction for sure.

But not enough of a diversion.

Taehyun goes home without any incident that day, except for a chat request from someone he clearly knows.

Jinna.

It’s not like he’s a social butterfly that he has to even think about maintaining necessary connections in Korea. That’s one of the up sides of being a w