Where are my pants? / part 3

Other kids buying chocolate, chips, jellies or sodas annoyed Taemin. Teachers should have known better than to give them a free pass for half an hour while visiting the city near the campgrounds. He had money on him, but he didn’t want to spend it all, on the first day, on snacks. Unlike everyone else, his budget had a limit he could easily reach with one or two purchases.

To top it off, Jongin disappeared again.

The idiot fell asleep like a log last night. Taemin thought that they were going to spend time together in the morning, but was barely awake while chewing on his food. Eventually, half of Jongin’s breakfast ended up in Taemin’s stomach – no complaints, but he wished Jongin wouldn’t drool on his shoulder while riding the bus. While sightseeing, he looked more like a zombie in the making than a human being, zoning out often and using Taemin as his crutch when he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Then he disappeared God knows where. Soojung too.

Taemin was all alone in the middle of a square, hugging himself to keep warm, with part of his face hidden behind his knitted scarf.  

Those damn kids were laughing and sharing warm drinks or pepero. Taemin distracted himself with the cracks beneath his feet when he noticed a second pair of shoes stopping before him. He looked up from the ground and found Wonshik smiling while holding two cans of coke. He showed him one.

“All alone?” Taemin stayed silent, staring at him like a hermit in contact with civilization after freshly getting out of his cave. “This is yours if you want.”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t need it and someone needs to drink it.”

“Keep it for later?”

“They’ll confiscate it. You like coke, right?”

“Sometimes,” Taemin reluctantly accepted the can and thought about how much it would cost him. “I can’t pay for it.”

“Who said anything about paying?” Wonshik opened his can of coke and took a quick sip, regretting seconds later from the burst of bubbles in his mouth. “It’s a gift,” he quickly added and took a second sip.

Taemin followed suit, holding the can with both hands while they gazed together at the curves of the mountains outlining the horizon. Mist shrouded the peaks and clouds rushed across the sky, sun too weak that day to warm them.

Taemin exhaled, breath rolling out in white wisps.

He suddenly felt like he didn’t belong there. Home is where he had grey buildings and the ruckus of traffic, a serpentine river and a dark vastness above. Sometimes, when he looked long enough, he could spot one or two stars blinking at him, the sisters of the moon that told him stories every night, of the people they watched over and their fears and desires and he didn’t feel as though the world was so bad after all.

Taemin had no idea that Wonshik turned and was staring at him instead.

“So, what’s your favorite band?”

And Taemin turned to stare at him too, unaware that Jongin saw them standing close to one another. He bit down on his lip and stuffed the choco pies he bought for the two of them in his bag. They could eat them later.

---

“I didn’t know you like that guy,” Wonshik gave Taemin thumbs up. He bobbed his head to the rhythm in his ear. “I hadn’t heard this song in ages.”

Taemin had the other earpiece, listening to the same song and tapping his knee with the drums while they were sitting on Taemin’s bed.

“His last album’s kind of weak.”

“Agreed,” Wonshik took the iPod from Taemin and browsed through his list. “But you have to admit that it’d be boring if he wouldn’t change his style.”

“Experimenting is awesome but you gotta do it right.” Taemin leaned over to see what Wonshik would pick next, his cheek almost brushing against Wonshik’s.

“Like, like how he did with---”

Jongin didn’t catch the rest of their conversation.

He left for the showers, clothes and towels in hand, bitter they took his choco pies away.

Ever since they came back from the field trip, Taemin and Wonshik had been constantly talking about this or that, finding out they had a lot more in common than they thought. Two sides of the coin made out of the same alloy, different cravings, different pictures, different numbers, but fundamentally the same.

And he thought he’d be happy about it. Taemin was nice with someone other than him or his sister. He was actually having a conversation and not flipping the bird. Yet, it troubled him that the two got close so quickly. He didn’t know Wonshik as well as he knew Taemin and he was afraid Wonshik might break Taemin’s heart if he turned out to be an of a buddy. Jongin might have made the wrong decision when he introduced the two of them.

Someone who rarely made friends must be harder to conquer and easier to crush.

But when he got back in their room and wanted to pull Taemin by his side and talk about these things, he couldn’t. Not when he saw from the door how brightly he smiled and laughed at whatever Wonshik told him. Not when he saw Taemin playfully pushing Wonshik like he’d do it with him, not when he’d see him loosened up from the way he sat, shields gradually dropping around the other guy. It’d be wrong to plant doubt in him. He should include Wonshik in their tiny group, encourage Taemin to do the same if he hadn’t already thought of it too – the three Musketeers of South Korea.

Jongin couldn’t.

Something else brewed in the back of his head. Something wicked, an opportunity to remind Taemin who was his best friend.

When morning came, an evil shadow loomed over Taemin. Jongin popped open the cap of the black marker he strategically hid away from the teachers. With extreme precaution and quick , he drew the hairiest pair of balls on the corners of Taemin’s mouth and flanked his nose with two thin lines. When he was about to complete his masterpiece and connect the lines between Taemin’s closed eyes, Jongin thought Taemin’s eyelashes were pretty.

And his skin felt nice under his touch as he tried to smudge away any wrong dot or line with his thumb. His lips had the most endearing shape ever, almost like a heart someone bit onto, and plump, and just as soft under his fingertips.

He stiffened when Taemin simpered and his cheeks puffed, holding back laughter.

“Motherer,” came Taemin’s voice from the depth of his throat, “you feeling artsy?” One eye fluttered open, his smile widening.

Jongin thought his face was too close to Taemin’s. The other eye opened too and Jongin froze at the sight of the dark orbs pinning him in place. He snapped out of it after Taemin snatched his marker, rolled him on his back and straddled