written byb2utyfulshawol for Cold Hands, Warm Hearts [Writing Contest] with the prompt, “My kisses touch the ten billion snowflakes in hopes that one of them reaches you.”

Minho had a good stature. He was tall and godlike, standing at about 6 feet. With his back straight and head held up high, he could probably see ahead for miles. His height was definitely the talk of the town, but today, he hung his head low. His shoulders were hunched over, his large hands fitted inside the pockets of his black trousers. His statuesque appearance was replaced and dismissed by a sorrowful demeanor that could only make you want to know what was happening.

A funeral was happening.

The grass was greener than ever before in that cold, late November morning, dew still apparent on its blades and catching itself idly on the soles and leather of Minho’s shoes. Wednesday mornings were usually reserved for sleeping in after a late night at the office, but today was different. Minho had dawdled himself out of bed, got dressed slowly in the darkest, blackest suit he owned, and skipped breakfast. Two days ago, one of his best friends and favorite Chemistry study buddy during high school had lost the battle he had been fighting for three long, painful years.

Minho looked around. He stood nearest the front of the mourning crowd, his eyes attached to the ground. Somehow, it felt like just taking a single glance at the black coffin in front of him would induce his reputable indifference to tears. All around him, the women were crying. He had recognized a few of them from high school. Some girls he had even dated and long forgotten after high school. The men, just like him, remained solemn and quiet. Except a few, like the deceased’s first and only love. Kibum was always known to be quite an emotional man. Minho watched from the corner of his eye as Kibum buried his porcelain face into the sweater vest of another one of Jinki’s best friends, Jonghyun, as he shook uncontrollably in sobs. In the background, someone was speaking lowly and somberly. The words were not registering in Minho’s mind as he tried to fight off the memories of Jinki-hyung trying to help him understand certain molecular and ionic bonding in chemistry or of him trying to help Jinki-hyung make a flawless 3-point shot. He wondered if Kibum was also thinking of his time spent with Jinki and if that was the cause of all that crying.

It was funny how the saddest things in life were only the shadows that brought forth the light. Minho looked up once more, and a warm flush of sandy blonde caught his eyes. At a farther end of the crowd, he could see him. His soft, pale skin was softer and paler now, the cool breeze dulling his tear-stained cheeks. His big eyes did not twinkle like it always did, but it was red and Minho knew that he had been crying. Of course he had, it’s his brother who had died, Minho thought. His hair was no longer the glossy shade of dark auburn that he wore all through junior high and high school. It was a lot lighter now, and Minho concluded to himself that the boy’s eccentric eye for style and fashion was still ahead from others. His lips, full and pink, had a habit of always forming into a pout and Minho fidgeted. Five years later, and he was still beautiful.

Minho felt awful. Here he was, attending a best friend’s funeral, and yet, all he could do was fall in love all over again.

***

When Lee Jinki was returned to the soil he came from, they all gathered at his and Kibum’s home, an investment Jinki managed to give to Kibum right before he knew he was going to die. Their living room was tidy and warm. Minho sat on one of the plush, gold ornamented couch chairs, observing how the both the interior and exterior were a stark contrast to Kibum’s usual taste for urban and metropolitan living. A crackling fire was made in the white marble fireplace where several framed photos of Jinki and Kibum sat on its mantle. There were a few of them from their adventures abroad and some that dated all the way back in high school when they first started dating. And one or two also included their families. Minho could also see his favorite photo on that mantle.

The frame was rustic and red, and the photo included Jinki-hyung throwing an arm around his little brother. Their smiles were infectious and the background told a story of them fishing out in the countryside. He took that photo. He remembered that day when Jinki called him up to ask if he wanted to go fishing. Minho said he had never, but he wanted to try. So the Saturday after that inquisition, Jinki pulled up in front of Minho’s home back then with an unknown boy sitting shotgun.

“This is my brother, Taemin,” Jinki said as soon as Minho jumped into the back after accidentally opening the door of the front passenger seat only to find it already occupied. Taemin turned around in his seat and waved brightly at their school’s star athlete. His eyes turned into crescents when he smiled, and Minho couldn’t help but smile back.

The whole ride to the countryside was an estimated 3 hours, but Taemin’s vivid personality and intriguing sense of conversation had reduced that to what felt like minutes. By the time they had reached the lake where codfish were definitely in season, Minho had learned that Taemin was younger than him by 2 years, was an avid dancer, and loved video games. The three boys decided to fish until sundown and then drive back, but secretly Minho thought that a whole day wasn’t enough. Taemin’s smile was growing in on him, and it only made each beat of his heart amplify through his chest.

***

“He was asking for you,” Jonghyun said.

Minho broke his gaze suddenly to look at Jonghyun who had just joined him on the couch. His sudden intrusion had made him realize that he had been staring at that photo for far too long to remember where he was.

“Who?” Minho asked.

The other man tilted his towards the photo that was burned with Minho’s gaze. “Taemin. He was asking for you. Actually, he was asking about you, asked how you were doing.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing too revealing,” Jonghyun shrugged. “I didn’t know what to say, to be honest. It’s been awhile since you two were together, right? And the way it ended…”

Jonghyun’s voice trailed away purposely. He knew that “the way it ended” was a subject still touchy to Minho’s heart.

“Right. Yeah.” Minho mumbled, his fingers rolling the silver Rolex around his wrist. The face timed in at 12:10 am, but the sky outside was coincidental for what was happening that day. It was dark and the wind was blowing harder now, several of the brown and orange leaves from the trees in the yard detaching itself from their branches and falling mercilessly to the ground.

“If you want to talk to him,” Jonghyun said after a pregnant pause evaded their conversation. “He’s in the kitchen.”

Minho threw a quick glance at the hallway in which the kitchen was at the very end. “Okay,” was all he said and continued to just sit there.

***

Minho liked girls. He liked the way their hair smelled and the way their skin looked so flawless and clean. They were a good diversion from all that running around with a bunch of sweaty, grimy guys in soccer practice. However, Taemin was different.

He looked a lot like a girl, sometimes dressed like one, too. But he was all too different. He read books because he wanted to and not because he had to. He played video games and was actually good at it. He loved to eat and not once would ever complain about his weight. He loved music and art and all sorts of crazy things, and despite the fact that his peculiarities didn’t garner the best attention, Minho liked him. In the darkest room, or even in the darkest hour, Taemin could shine. He was a light, and Minho reveled in the boy’s brilliance.

Time only played out how Minho had suddenly grown more and more close to Taemin, causing Jonghyun to once make a passing comment on how the Lee brothers definitely knew how to draw Minho in from either side. He brushed this off with a chuckle, but later on Minho would reevaluate that statement and truly wonder how in the world had Taemin drew him in.

He later concludes that it is because he’s different.

***

“What happened again?”

The living room where they sat in was quiet, albeit there were other people holding hushed conversations around them. From time to time, Minho would relapse into the back of his memories, causing Jonghyun to only feel a tinge of awkwardness of the passing silence between them.

“What happened with what?” Minho returned.

“What happened,” Jonghyun reiterated, a little slowly this time. “Between you and Taemin.”

Minho could only scoff at that. “You know the story.” And I have no intentions on repeating it.

***

“What happened” between him and Taemin didn’t end brutally, but it was in fact brutally honest. Taemin’s last words to Minho before the older boy left him standing on the pavement five years ago was clear cut and precise, but like a double-edged sword, it still pierced Minho with quite the viciousness one couldn’t possibly endear.

“I don’t ever want to see you again,” Taemin spat out. Minho’s eyes rinsed out with dry tears, his emotions being held back with such intensity. Even then, he always knew to never cry in front of others. Taemin on the other hand, was a mess. His eyes were now bloodshot and his face had been matted with his dried up tears. “You mean nothing to me. You’re just a joke. You and all of them are. Do you think you’re going to make it big someday with that ed up ‘charisma’ of yours? Do you think people actually like you because of that? no! They don’t, Choi Minho. They only like you because they want to take advantage of you and I. I liked you because I thought you weren’t as much of a prick as you looked to be. I liked you because you meant a whole lot more to me than just the guy with looks and money. I liked you because I thought you knew how much I cared about you. I really did. I cared about you so much that I didn’t even know I was harming myself by being around you. But for what? Just so you could take me, make me feel like I was the whole ing world to you and then hurt me like that? Well you did it. I hope you’re happy now; I hope that kiss with Yoona was worth it all for you because for me it meant nothing. Just like us, it means nothing anymore.”

And Minho watched as Taemin clenched his fist one last time – his body standing ready if ever the younger boy was going to throw a punch at him. But Taemin just stood there, refusing to make eye contact with Minho, looking over his shoulder at his car that was left running, headlights and all still on.

It was definitely an odd place to break up. Taemin didn’t know where he was and Minho felt like the juxtaposition of such a quiet suburban neighborhood mocked the crackling fire of their situation. It was quiet, let alone the soft crowing of night sparrows and the chirps of crickets, but Minho still couldn’t find it in him to speak up and explain himself. Never had he encountered such vile words – or the truth, actually – from someone and coming from Taemin of all people, his heart felt like it was going to stop beating.

There was moment of silence and Minho couldn’t think. He couldn’t think properly and to this day, he’ll always regret what he did. Because all he did was leave Taemin alone on the pavement – tearstained and esteem shattered – as he drove away. Five years later, he’ll regret everything he’s ever done and didn’t do that night. Like not even sparing just one last glance at the beautiful boy from his rearview mirror.

***

When they were all high school seniors, excluding Taemin, Kibum had decided to throw an end of the year graduation party. Minho was invited of course, and him being in quite an eccentric and still very established relationship with Taemin, he felt entitled to bring his boyfriend along. The night was young and despite the fact that Taemin was a wallflower sans Minho throughout the party, he still enjoyed himself.

It was so, until a group of Minho’s friends had quite too much to drink and quite too much to say.

“Taemin’s cute and all… but, but you’re gay,” One of them slurred out to Minho. Taemin heard this from afar, his existence obviously not quite recognized (and this was never too unusual). “Do you want to be gay all your life? Are you going to marry that boy?”

Minho wasn’t as drunk as his friends to feel numb to their words, but he managed to keep his cool. Taemin, on the other hand, blushed intensely and silently prayed that he could just blend in with the wallpaper.

“What about your parents? I doubt your mom and dad will want to be at your wedding when you marry a boy!” They all laughed, and Minho chuckled in spite of their jeers. Taemin watched and listened and his heart. His poor heart began to ache.

They kept saying boy like it was vomit; like it was poison in their throats. You’re not going to marry that boyare you? You like that boymore than you like ? What does that boyoffer that these girls can’t?

It was a miraculous feat still unknown to anyone that wasn’t Choi Minho, but Minho managed to still remain quite apathetic to all their taunts and teasing. It was like that way extensively, though. However, beneath that indifferent demeanor, a storm was brewing.

And that storm finally struck the minute Yoona joined the group, overhearing how Minho couldn’t possibly find a girl to which resulted in him dating Lee Taemin. She pulled him away, a slick smile on her face, and Minho was too enraged and too caught up with trying to prove that he liked girls too.

When all the while, he suddenly forgot about Taemin who sat in the corner of the room.

Yoona led him to a bedroom, and Minho snapped back to reality. He quickly realized that he was in a room. Alone with Yoona. In circumstances before he met Taemin, he would certainly not mind it at all. But now, he was with the most beautiful boy he’s ever set his eyes on and he couldn’t and shouldn’t do anything to things up. Not even after what his friends said.

Minho ends up explaining his story to Jonghyun anyway. And for the first time in five years, he’s finally explaining the things that he should have explained to Taemin long ago when they broke up.

“Yoona, she… Well, you know how she is when she gets drunk. I mean, some bastard had to spike the punch and she somehow got so wasted and. Well, and.” Minho closed his eyes slightly, as if the memory of that night’s party was traumatizing. “And she grabbed me and told me to make love to her. I told her I couldn’t and that I had Taemin, but she kept insisting and before I knew it, she had her arms around me and she was kissing me and Taemin walked in. He was already crying when he walked in on us, like. Like he knew that I was going to do something.”

“Well, did you?” Jonghyun asked.

“Hell no!” Minho cried out immediately. “But he ran away before I could catch him. He was running away so quickly, I had to get into my car to chase him down. And. That’s how we broke up. I just. Well, I just never had the chance to tell him that nothing happened that night.”

Jonghyun looked up and then looked back at Minho. “Then I think you should right now.”

He looked back over Minho’s shoulder, and Minho turned around to face whatever it was that Jonghyun was addressing. And there – just like it was five years ago – was the most beautiful boy in the room.

Taemin stood by the threshold of the kitchen connecting the living area where Jonghyun and Minho were conversing, and the kitchen where he and Kibum were busy trying to prepare and rearrange the refreshments. He leaned on the frame of the entryway, his hands fidgeted slightly with the ends of his collar. Minho – unable to control himself – smiled at him. There was something about him that was so endearing and it made Minho smile, no matter what was happening right then.

Jonghyun got up slowly and nodded at Taemin once before walking past him to join Kibum in the kitchen. The younger boy stared at Jonghyun’s now vacated seat before languidly – and seemingly cautiously – making his way to reoccupy it. Minho’s heart raced innocuously this being the first time he had ever been in such a very close distance with Taemin. He looked at him, his eyes widening in awe at the boy.

Till this day, not one of Taemin’s features was left with flaws. He was still – and it seemed that he forever will be – quite amazing.

Taemin dared not to make eye contact with Minho as the former continued to stare at him. It was like this as well when they were still together. There would be moments when Taemin would just sit next to Minho – maybe reading a book, watching a show, or simply just thinking – and he’d say nothing, only letting the older boy continue to gaze at him with perplexity and figurative awe.

“I heard what you said to Jonghyun,” Taemin said after a long while of silence. He kept his eyes down at his hands that he folded over his lap. “About what happened with you and Yoona.”

Minho broke his transfixed gaze with Taemin, hearing him speak. “Look I – ” He tried to say, but Taemin cut him off.

“I know you tried to push her away, but you still followed her. You still followed her to the room even when you knew that I was right there. It’s like you did that on purpose to hurt me. You did it right in front of me.”

“Taemin, please you don’t understand,” Minho pleaded as he placed a hand on the other boy’s fingers. Electricity shot through Taemin quickly at the touch of Minho’s calloused hands on his own. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wasn’t even thinking straight; the guys were being such and I was so sick of hearing them and I don’t know what came over me.  But it’s different now, because I’ve grown up, you see? I’m not just a high school boy with hopes and dreams and the audacity to be a jerk because it attracts attention. And I don’t know if it will ever make any difference now because it’s been five years, but I love you, Lee Taemin. I’ve never gotten around to saying that because I felt it was too cliché and too cheap if I said it back then. But now I don’t care about when I say it or how I say it. And I know it’s your brother’s funeral right now and I know you’re not in your right mind, but I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Taemin remained quiet again, looking away to regain his thoughts. When he felt like his mentality was coherent enough he looked back at Minho. His brown eyes met Minho’s instantly.

“But do you even know what you’re saying? ‘I love you’ is not an easy way out of anything, Minho, and if you’re only using that to reconcile with me then I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

There was that familiar fire in Taemin’s eyes and Minho pulled himself back, trying to find the right words to say. He did mean it and there was no way in hell he was using it to lure Taemin back into his life. Of all the things he didn’t do five years ago, this was one of them and he couldn’t waste any moments now.

“Jinki’s gone, Taemin,” Minho spoke solemnly. The look on Taemin’s eyes diverted drastically as he felt a bit taken aback at how unpredictable Minho’s words were. “And while you lost your brother, I lost a great friend. When I first heard that he died two days ago, I spent all night and day thinking of things that I never got to tell him or do with him. Doing things like actually playing a real basketball game together or saying things like, ‘Thank you for being such a genuine friend’. And it eats me up inside that I sometimes can’t sleep or eat or think straight. And he’s gone, Taemin-ah. He’s gone and he’s one of the very special people in my life and I hate that feeling. That feeling of regret and ‘what-if’s’ and I don’t want to take any chances anymore. Especially not with you.”

What Taemin couldn’t find anymore are words. He couldn’t find the right words or right comprehension to even realize that all this time, he wasn’t mad at Minho. He wasn’t upset with him for such a stupid mistake. All this time, he was bitter with himself. He blamed himself for losing Minho so quickly like that, and now that Minho – the love of his life, the one boy that made him feel special in spite of all it was worth – was here, confessing his true love to him, he, too, didn’t want to take any chances.

“Do you think it’s ever too late to go back where we left off?” Taemin questioned.

His voice was so soft and so delicate; it flowed through Minho’s ears like heaven’s harps. And, finally, for the first time, a tear had begun to well up in the ducts of Minho’s eyes. What beauty had to partake for him finally break down like that, one may never know. His best friend’s funeral couldn’t even procure the tears like that. And all it took was Taemin’s subtle question of approval, beckoning for one more chance.

And Minho willingly took it, because he knew that it was good chance for all it was worth. 

Author’s Notes: How the prompt is incorporated with this oneshot:

I didn’t want to be too practical and write a sappy romance about Minho and Taemin in a long distance relationship or whatever story that implies that they miss each other and they end up saying the said prompt. Like many writers, the prompt spoke to me in a different way, and when I read that prompt, immediately I think of regrets. I think of the regrets the Minho has for leaving Taemin and the regrets that he might have had if he wouldn’t ever see him again. So yeah, the prompt usage is quite subtle in a practical sense, but figuratively, it seems apparent to me.