The front door slams shut with a bang after Jongin stumbles across the threshold and kicks his shoes off. The entire house is dead silent, save for the faint rumbling of pipes in the kitchen, which Jongin barely registers when he tosses his backpack on the welcome mat. He doesn't even need to check to know that Taemin is most definitely asleep after a whole day's worth of practicing before tomorrow's show, but Jongin doesn't bother keeping quiet as he zooms past Taemin's room and up the stairs.

Jongin wholeheartedly hopes that Taemin won't come barging into his room for making too much sound as he dives beneath the duvets. His brain has seemingly been reduced to a puddle of goop in his head, which becomes apparent when Jongin attempts to string his thoughts together, only to emit a low groan of agony when his cranium feels like it's splitting down the middle. Jongin finds himself aimlessly walking back and forth in an attempt at halting the spinning in his head, which grows so strong that he has to lean against his desk in worry of toppling over.

A part of Jongin knows that he should probably keep it down, since he doesn't even want to know what Taemin might do to him if he were to wake him up with his internal screaming. In his dazed state, Jongin barely registering his phone buzzing with an email, and the dread that fills him upon seeing his math teacher's name on the screen does nothing to calm the racing of his heart.

Now, Jongin isn't sure what irritates him the most, the fact that he did, indeed, flunk the exam, or that he did so by one point, but he doesn't bother sparing it another thought as he tosses his phone on the mattress. Except it misses, and Jongin prays that his screen isn't cracked beyond belief after it slips off the edge and hits the floor with a thud. Jongin figures that he's lucky, because even though the mere thought of being stuck in detention on a Friday afternoon haunts him, at least he figures that he's got a reason to avoid the show tomorrow. While the idea of talking to Chanyeol during the after party doesn't sound all too bad, it's the only thing that actually excites Jongin about attending the show in the first place, and he knows that there's no way he's paying ten dollars just to talk to Chanyeol for an hour. Probably.

Despite every single ticket probably being sold out at this point, given Chanyeol and Taemin's abnormally large friendship circles, Jongin figures that if his math teacher does end up releasing him for whatever reason, he might crash the after party if he finds himself withering away at home. However, Jongin mentally slaps himself when he remembers that Baekhyun and Sehun will most definitely be tagging along afterwards. On the off chance that he does end up going home early, Jongin figures that he would rather wither away in bed all by himself than drag himself to Jongdae's house, only to be verbally massacred by Sehun and or Baekhyun.

In an attempt at distracting himself from the static filling his head, Jongin throws his pajamas on before diving head first beneath the duvets. On any normal occasion, the pitch black sky outside would lull him to sleep in an instant, and Jongin hates the way he ends up practically tangling himself in the sheets after he closes his eyes, only for every single thought inside his head to wash over him like a tidal wave. Jongin sort of misses the sound of cars speeding by outside his window (as well as Taemin's loud strumming), because the dead silence of the house only amplifies the deafening pounding in his ears to the point that he has to cover his face with a pillow. Jongin has no idea how long he ends up lying motionless, but the next thing he knows, he's tossing it clear across the room before he can die of heatstroke.

It's not until Jongin figures that he's turned the entire duvet upside down from tossing and turning that he audibly sighs, and he almost cries in frustration when a certain dullness surges through his waist when he tries moving his legs. To Jongin's dismay, it's not enough to distract him from the buzzing in his veins, which has him wanting to scream out loud. For once, Jongin regrets not bringing his homework upstairs, because he would honestly jump at the chance to torture himself with algebra than spend another minute on the stone cold mattress. With his head heart to explode, Jongin is in the midst of contemplating screaming into his pillow when a sudden noise nearly makes him fall off his bed in surprise.

Even though Jongin isn't entirely sure, he's at least a hundred percent sure that he just heard the front door swing open, and he doesn't even register the fog in his head fading when he feels his pulse quicken. Tumbling out of bed, Jongin clearly picks up on the faint sound of hinges creaking downstairs, and it's not until he remembers just what a heavy sleeper Taemin is that he nearly screams. Jongin gives up contemplating escaping through the window, hoping Taemin will give him the credit he deserves for taking one for the team as he quietly tip toes towards the staircase. The spinning in his head nearly makes Jongin topple down the stairs, but he manages to keep himself upright as he descends the stairs one at a time, all while he makes sure to make as little noise as possible.

The smell of fresh air fills Jongin's head when he reaches the kitchen and, despite the darkness, he can clearly make out the front door sitting open a crack twenty feet away. Jongin doesn't know if he's got the fog in his head to blame for making him freak out perhaps a little less than he should over the thought of somebody having broken into his house, but he finds himself not so quietly flying over to Taemin's bedroom door before knocking ever so slightly (while knowing that Taemin will be the first to murder him for interrupting his pre-concert beauty sleep). 

Inevitably, he gets no response, and Jongin is in the middle of contemplating either saving himself or carrying Taemin out of the house on his back when he catches a whiff of tobacco. At first, Jongin considers arming himself with Taemin's baseball bat, but he decides against it when he quietly creeps over to the hallway. After half a second's worth of thinking, Jongin finds himself picking up one of Taemin's boots (given that its heel looks sharp enough to classify it as a weapon). Jongin doesn't even register rushing out the front door until he feels himself stumble over something solid a second later. It takes Jongin a minute to assure himself that he isn't being murdered, but he sort of wishes he was when he looks up from his spot on the lawn, only to be greeted with the sight of Taemin gawking at him like he's grown a second head.

At first, Taemin doesn't say anything, and he simply takes a long drag of his cigarette while he watches Jongin scramble to his feet. The gray cloud that leaves his lips briefly conceals his face, but it disappears as soon as he nods at Jongin. It doesn't take Jongin long to realize that Taemin is clad in his baby pink pajamas, but he bites back his snicker (mainly in fear of being murdered for real) as he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. Now that Jongin thinks about it, he barely even recognizes Taemin without his hair adding two inches to his height, as well as his red leather jacket and eyeliner, and he's so caught up with staring that he doesn't notice Taemin sending him a look.

"Please tell me you're sleepwalking," Taemin mutters from his spot on the patio step, legs crossed and sleeves covering his hands as he takes another drag. It's not until he averts his gaze and notices his boot dangling from Jongin's fingers that he emits a series of ugly guffaws, all while Jongin fights the urge to shove him off the patio. "I mean--" Taemin wipes his eyes after he calms down. "I've been told that those things could cut someone's throat." He takes another drag before he chucks his still lit cigarette across the lawn. They fall into silence until Taemin clears his throat while fiddling with his sleeves. "Y'should try a knife next time, I've heard it's much more effective." He looks up with a sly smirk, to which Jongin responds with a look of exhaustion.

Well, then. Jongin runs a hand through his messy hair as he tries not shiver from the cold. With the adrenaline escaping his system, he finds himself unable to choke out the sarcastic remark on the tip of his tongue, and it's not until Taemin stretches his legs that Jongin throws his hands in the air. "The hell are you doing--" He fights an impulse to scream when Taemin raises an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be in...never mind." Jongin misses Taemin's head by an inch when he tosses the boot in the door, to which Taemin responds with a horrified squawk.

Taemin huffs before he goes silent. "Couldn't sleep for the goddamn life of me," he grumbles, seemingly not minding his hair falling in his eyes after he cards his fingers through it. He goes on to inspect his scarred fingertips before exhaling. "I could ask you the same thing."

Jongin chews on his bottom lip, all while he tries to ignore the ice cold ground beneath his bare feet. "I mean, me too, I guess," he mumbles to the sound of the neighbor's dog howling. Despite wanting nothing more than to scramble back inside the house, especially when a gust of wind passes, Jongin finds himself inching towards the patio after Taemin goes on to pat the empty space next to him. The next thing Jongin knows, he's trying to avoid dying of hypothermia as he plops himself down on the concrete step. The smell of secondhand smoke is overwhelming, but Jongin can't bring himself to get back up when he brings his knees close to his chest. It's not until Jongin eyes Taemin's blindingly white socks that he realizes that he and Taemin haven't sat this close since they moved in a year ago, but he dismisses the thought, when he clears his throat. "I mean, I also couldn't...yeah."

Shifting, Taemin nods ever so slightly. "So that's why you nearly killed me with my own shoe," he chuckles but Jongin easily picks up on the distance in his voice when he gestures behind them. "You should head back inside," he mutters when Jongin shivers. It's not until Jongin makes it clear that he's not going anywhere that Taemin curses to himself. "Goddamn this ing week, Christ--"

Jongin fixates his gaze on a few pebbles on the lawn when Taemin goes on to mutter a string of incoherencies under his breath. Even though he knows that he should probably close the front door, before the entire house becomes ice cold, Jongin remains glued to the patio step as he watches a handful of cars drive by. A large, black car quietly slides by, and Jongin feels his entire chest grow hot when he recalls seeing Sehun's car parked a few feet away when he returned his duffel bag. Come to think of it, Jongin doesn't think he's even unpacked his and Krystal's trophy yet, but he dismisses it when he swallows the shameful lump in his throat. A part of Jongin is thankful for the fact that his mouth is pretty much frozen shut, because it's all that's keeping him from screaming into the night sky when a whiff of Sehun's strong perfume fills his head. ing .

However, the burning in his chest isn't not enough to overpower the biting cold, and Jongin doesn't even realize that he's shaking like a leaf until Taemin extracts his hand. Blinking, Jongin stares at the white stick between Taemin's fingers for an embarrassingly long time, but he doesn't get a chance to say anything before Taemin speaks.

"It'll keep you warm, that's for sure," Taemin chuckles. He's silent for a moment before a -eating grin spreads across his face. "I mean, I've got another option that'll keep you even warmer, but that's up to you."

Jongin simply sends Taemin a dry look, figuring that if it wasn't for the fact that his entire body is frozen solid, Taemin would be begging for mercy on the ground right this second. Even though he wants nothing more than to tell Taemin to go die, Jongin finds himself taking an abrupt drag after he accepts Taemin's lighter. Surely enough, Jongin immediately feels the ice inside his body melt when he leans back against the patio steps, and it's not until he feels his head clearing up that he nearly cries in relief. A part of Jongin wants to slap himself for breaking his four month streak, which begun ever since their principal caught him and Baekhyun behind the school building at the start of June (which had Jongin cursing Baekhyun's bright idea of sneaking cigarettes to school). Despite solemnly swearing that he'd never engage in anything of the sort ever again, and being able to restrain himself even while living with Taemin, Jongin finds himself shoving the thought aside when he feels his body filling up with heat once again.

"How do you do that?" Taemin chuckles, nearly making Jongin jump five feet in the air. "Believe me when I say that most people don't look drop dead adorable while they're having a smoke," he adds, mostly to himself, before he swipes the cigarette. Jongin doesn't even bother protesting when Taemin goes on to take a much needed drag of his own. "You don't need to be here, you know."

Tearing his eyes off the dim streetlights down the road, Jongin blinks. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Like, out here," Taemin says, gesturing all around them with his free hand. A lock of hair blows in his eyes when a cold gust of wind passes. "Just say I woke you and go back to bed, it's not difficult," he adds with the cigarette between his lips. "I mean, on account of false sympathy and all-"

"Don't talk to me that way," Jongin sighs with a pointed look at Taemin. Even in the darkness, Jongin can easily make out the flickering in Taemin's eyes, and he finds himself unable to get to his feet when he runs a hand down his face. The sound of one of their neighbors throwing out the garbage masks the exhausted pitter-pattering of Jongin's heart while he chews the inside of his cheek. It's not until they've sat in absolute silence, save for Taemin occasionally exhaling, for what feels like forever that Jongin clears his throat. "You'll do great, I promise."

Taemin nearly chokes on his cigarette when he flinches like he's been burned. "What-"

"Tomorrow," Jongin blurts out, not even bothering to smack a hand over his mouth when Taemin continues to stare at him. "I mean, I know you said this wasn't about--" He cuts himself off with a sigh, gaze following a passing motorcycle a few feet away. The soft rumbling gradually dies down as it disappears down the road, and Jongin barely pays any attention to the fact that they're bathing in gasoline fumes when he swallows. "I've heard you for a while now, y'know, in your room and all for the past-- I mean, you're like the best guitar player I know-- Hell, how many people can play perfectly while cooking?" Jongin chuckles to himself before he eyes the twinkling stars above. Well, then. "Point is, you're gonna be great and there's no need to be nervous like this."

Taking a drag, Taemin takes his sweet time to reply as he exhales a cloud of smoke. He opens his mouth, only to close it again with a sigh. "That's..." He clears his throat. "Thanks, I mean it." He sends Jongin a tired, yet sincere smile before he leans back ever so slightly. "But that's not why I'm...you know, out here." Taemin lets Jongin take another drag before he chucks the white stick across the lawn, only to curse when Jongin stares at him with an innocent, wide-eyed look. "Don't ing look at me like th-"

"But you are," Jongin blurts out, fighting the urge to whack Taemin upside the head for being so insanely stubborn all the time. "You're like, the best guitar player I know, and the smartest person I know, and I've always envied you for it, so use your brain and realize that you're gonna be great tomorrow, so stop worrying so much." He awkwardly clears his throat. "So yeah, good luck, I...I guess."

Taemin pulls his sleeves down before his eyes flash. "You envy me," he deadpans, genuine surprise lacing his voice as he looks at Jongin.

Mentally slapping himself, Jongin blames his buzzing head for making his tongue tie itself into knots when he opens his mouth, all while Taemin continues to stare at him. "Yeah," he sighs, clenching his jaw as he watches a few cars silently slide by. "I do--" He's silent for a minute before he audibly exhales. "I mean, I think-- I mean, it's just...the way you talk to people like it's just nothing, how you always get along so goddamn well with everyone you meet, and your perfect brain and intelligence, and I have none of--" Jongin has to force his mouth shut when he worries he might actually die of humiliation, not even realizing how fast he's breathing until he takes a much needed gasp of air. For a second, all he hears is the sound of trees swaying, and Jongin is seconds away from scrambling back inside the house when Taemin shifts.

Taemin is silent as he opens and closes his mouth, which does nothing to soothe the buzzing in Jongin's nerves. "Don't talk like that," he says after a minute, so quietly that Jongin barely catches it.

Jongin blinks, mouth hanging open like a confused goldfish as he watches Taemin light another cigarette. "Okay," he dumbly mutters. He sort of wishes that the ground would swallow him up as he runs a tired hand down his face. A brief wave of dread washes over for reasons he can't explain, and for a solid minute, Jongin regrets choosing to sit down, but he can't bring himself to think about it when he swallows. "And why...never mind, forget it."

Taking a drag, Taemin stares at the vehicles passing by before he taps his cigarette. "Because I might kiss you," he says, not even giving Jongin a chance to respond before he exhales.

Staring at his feet, Jongin brings his knees closer to his chest when another cold breeze passes. The entire neighborhood is dead silent at this point, and despite the thousands of words weighing down his tongue, Jongin finds himself unable to budge when he notices Taemin leaning in ever so slightly. The smell of tobacco is nearly overwhelming, but Jongin can't bring himself to turn away when he feels Taemin's lips softly pressing against his own. Amid the wild flickering in his head, the only thought that Jongin manages to string together is mewling Sehun's name to the rhythm of Taemin's loving s, which in turn makes something explode in his chest. In fact, it's not until Jongin fears he might scream from his much his heart is shrivelling up that he finds himself whipping his head aside. "Wait, sorry-- I don't--" Jongin has to stifle the sob traveling up his throat when Taemin looks at him. "I can't--"

Taemin stifles a sigh as he lights another cigarette. "I know," he lowly says, words muffled as he takes a drag. He watches it burn up between his fingers before he exhales in defeat. "Anyway, isn't your exam tomorrow?" A less than discreet smirk curls up his lips when Jongin curses. "Wish I could help, but...you know, priorities." He takes a drag. "Fine, let's skip to the happy talk, instead." Grasping the cigarette, he crosses his legs. "So, is Sehun the man of your dreams now or what?"

Jongin whips his head up like a bullet at the mention of Sehun's name. A part of him wants to sock Taemin in the jaw for daring to utter the words 'happy talk', but he restrains himself when he stretches his legs. The painful burning sensation in his chest makes Jongin want to gasp for air when Taemin sighs next to him. "I mean, we...it's weird, it's all just...weird, I guess, I don't even--" Jongin is thankful that the darkness masks the single tear rolling down his cheek, but his relief is short lived when he feels Taemin's soft hand brushing against his face. "Don't ing do that--"

"I thought you talked it out at his place, can you blame me?" Taemin huffs, tapping his cigarette. "Although I guess I should've figured, but still." He presses his lips together when Jongin visibly reddens next to him. "As in, most people don't let their roommates them unless-"

"I know what the you're talking about," Jongin hisses, shoving Taemin so forcefully that he tumbles off the patio with a squawk. Picking the burning cigarette up off the ground, Jongin tries ignoring the way his hip tingles when he takes a short drag. The blissful heat filling his head effectively masks the wave of shame that comes over him while he watches Taemin brush himself off a few feet away. "I'm glad my body could be of service," he grumbles and Jongin is about to say something along the lines of Taemin needing better methods of stress relief when the latter chuckles.

Taemin plucks the cigarette out of Jongin's hand before he takes a long drag. "I could say the same thing about you." A thick puff of smoke leaves his lips with the last word. The dust and dirt covering his back sticks out like a sore thumb against his pink shirt, but Jongin doesn't feel one bit apologetic about it. "Anyway, you're obviously still sticking around instead of freaking out over Romeo for a reason, so you better speak up before you bore me to death."

Jongin decides against punching Taemin's lights out as he leans back against the patio step, not even caring that the sharp edge is threatening to shatter his spine when he stares at the black sky above them. For some reason, the twinkling stars scattered everywhere all seem to have died out at once, and Jongin has to look away when a passing breeze nearly makes his wet cheeks freeze over. He blinks when he realizes that he literally has no idea what to say, but he forces himself to continue when Taemin pointedly exhales next to him. "It's just-- I mean, why do you even, I don't get--" Jongin cuts himself off when he worries his tongue might twist itself into knots in his mouth, and he's about to ask Taemin if the latter is testing him when he clears his throat. "Why do you still give a ? I mean, after all this?"

Taemin rolls his eyes. "I'm not braindead just 'cause we don't feel the same way about each other, moron," he grumbles, tapping his cigarette.

Jongin exhales a shaky breath as he he waits for the incoming cars to pass by. "I just don't get his deal," he mumbles, chewing on his bottom lip when he feels Taemin's gaze burning holes in his head. His chest swells up like a balloon about to pop when he clears his throat. "I mean, we sort of ran into each other in the park yesterday and I got to meet his puppy and he took me out for breakfast, and then he like, told me that he'd ended things with Baekhyun, and then he invited me to spend the night at his house." Jongin fights urge to cry when Taemin looks at him. "Y'know, after you kicked me out of-"

"I know, I'm sorry," Taemin mutters, lips locked around the filter. It's not until he processes Jongin's words that he nearly chokes on his cigarette. "Wait--" He coughs into his fist before he sends Jongin a look. "He invited you to-"

"Yeah," Jongin blurts out as he brings his legs closer to his chest. "I mean, I kind of...left early, I guess, and afterwards, he like, texted me asking if it was something he said, but-"

"Did you reply?" Taemin asks, words muffled as he takes a long drag.

Jongin blinks, eyes fixated on the dust dancing in the glowing streetlights in the distance. "Then he just-"

"Did you reply?" Taemin repeats, hair falling in his eyes when he shifts into a more comfortable position.

Swallowing, Jongin considers getting up and scrambling upstairs to his room, but he remains glued to the patio (despite both his legs having fallen asleep) as he sees a neighbor's window light up. "I mean, I was going-"

"Hey, lunkhead, did you reply to his goddamn text or not?" Taemin crosses his legs, the familiar, sharp aura returning to his eyes when he sends Jongin a look. A part of Jongin wonders if bluntness and straightforwardness are directly linked to having an above average IQ, but he doesn't question it as Taemin cracks his knuckles against the edge of the step.

Heart racing, Jongin finds himself unable to squash the fluttering in his gut when he suddenly feels exceptionally tiny under Taemin's gaze, and he suddenly hates his roommate a little more. Jongin sort of hopes that the harsh winds will make Taemin change the subject completely, but luck doesn't seem to be on his side when he notices Taemin gawking at him in his peripheral. "I didn't, but it's not-- I didn't know if-- , it's not that simple--" Jongin bites back a loud yell as he exhales. "I mean, it's just so complicated, you wouldn't understand."

"So in other words, it was something he said," Taemin knowingly sing-songs with a look at Jongin, who nearly cowers under his gaze. It's not until the latter goes silent that Taemin lights another cigarette with a long, drawn out sigh. "Okay, so-"

"He just started talking," Jongin blurts out before he can stop himself. The stone cold patio is starting to make his thighs go numb, but he pays it no mind as he tugs on his hair in exasperation. "Like, he just started saying stuff, all this stuff about Baek, it was just--" The burning in his gut has Jongin wanting to rip his shirt off when Taemin hums. "I mean, I don't get why he felt the need to insult Baek just to make me feel better about this whole goddamn ing thing-"

"Wait--" Taemin scratches the back of his head, cigarette burning up between his fingers as he furrows his eyebrows. "...So he insulted Baekhyun?" he asks, almost as if he's trying to convince himself, before he blinks. "Okay, and how do you-"

"He said it," Jongin sighs in exasperation. "I mean, like, he just came up to me and said that Baek wasn't innocent and whatnot since-- I don't know what his deal is all of a sudden, like, he he can't just come up to me like that and insult my friends just to make me feel less guilty, it's so stupid--" It's not until Taemin goes silent that Jongin wants to scream, and he wonders why he even bothers telling Taemin anything when the latter goes on to comment on how dark the sky is. 

Taemin brushes dirt off his back before he hums under his breath. He takes his sweet time lighting another cigarette, all while Jongin watches with an (embarrassing amount of) desperation in his eyes. "Kim Jongin," he chuckles, making Jongin flinch like he's been burned. "Lemme get this straight--" He takes a drag. "He breaks up with his ex, goes out of his way to tell you, buys you breakfast, invites you to his bloody house, you leave for seemingly no reason at all, and yet you're the one crying to me about it?" He blinks, genuine bewilderment flashing in his eyes as he lets his neglected cigarette burn up between his fingers. "I mean, I get trying to protect Baekhyun and all, but this is ludacris-"

"You don't know anything about that," Jongin squawks, crossing his arms over his chest. "And-"

"And you do?" Taemin interrupts, his pointed glare making Jongin want to turn his face away in discomfort. "I mean-"

"Well, he's wrong," Jongin chuckles, feeling his gut churn as he follows a passing cyclist with his eyes. Even though he knows that Taemin is going to yell right in his face, like usual, Jongin can't bring himself to care as he lets out a shaky breath. The entire house is probably ice cold at this point, but Jongin opts to keep his eyes glued on Taemin's piercing when Taemin runs his tongue across his bottom lip in contemplation.

Taemin is silent for nearly a full minute. "Okay," he lowly says, voice surprisingly calm as he looks up at Jongin through thick, messy bangs. "And why is that?"

Shaking his head, Jongin contemplates simply going back to bed when a sudden wave of fatigue comes over him. He figures that if his legs weren't both numb beyond belief, he would be halfway up the stairs by now. A part of him wishes that something would break the godforsaken silence, because he knows that Taemin can hear the frantic pounding in his chest. "I know Baek," he chokes out, wanting to slap Taemin silly for daring to lecture him about his own best friend.

"I mean, it seemed to me like he told you why," Taemin hums, retrieving a scratched plectrum from his pocket. He goes on to remark its surprisingly good condition, all while Jongin tries to get his heart to stop beating out of his chest. "What Baekhyun did, that is."

Jongin swallows. "He did--" He clears his throat, knowing that he's already lost the argument when he sees Taemin's expression shift. "I mean, he was...about to, I guess," he blurts out before he can process what he's doing. "But-"

"But you didn't let him finish," Taemin hums, inspecting his black socks as he wiggles his toes to keep them warm. Flicking his cigarette aside, he brushes his hands together with a pointed look at Jongin, who looks like he's on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Peddling back and forth between slapping Taemin silly and running back inside the house, Jongin finds himself shaking his head ever so slightly. "That's not what I was gonna-"

"But you didn't let him finish," Taemin calmly echoes, emitting an inhuman noise when he leans back and stretches.

Jongin buries his face in his hands, both of which are so cold that his cheeks immediately go numb. "He's still wrong," he says, mainly to himself, before he swallows the ever lump in his throat. With his legs feeling like they're about to break off, Jongin contemplates spending the night on top of the porch steps. Even though Taemin's voice is enough to make Jongin want to curse the high heavens, there's something about the lack of Taemin's voice, when they fall into silence, that has Jongin wanting to burst into tears.

Taemin sighs. "But, you didn't let him finish, so now there's no way of knowing for sure," he says, which does nothing to calm the buzzing in Jongin's nerves. "Unless you ask Baekhyun, that is--" Taemin nearly jumps out of his own skin when Jongin emits a loud laugh. "Or not, whatever."

"Yeah, that's not happening," Jongin quickly says and flinches when the porch light turns on when Taemin stands up and stretches. If Jongin is going to be honest, he wouldn't be surprised if Baekhyun has moved to the other side of the planet just to avoid seeing his face ever again, and the mere thought is enough to make Jongin clench his jaw in irritation. "I don't ing get it-"

"Neither do I," Taemin says, cracking his back. He walks over to the front door and blows hot air in his hands. "As in, I legit don't get why you're bending over backwards just to accommodate Baekhyun," he adds for clarification before his eyebrows furrow. "I mean, when was the last time you two even talked? Like, had a flat out, proper discussion?" He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, a knowing look spreading across his face when Jongin remains silent from his spot a few feet away. Taemin goes on to mention something about heading back inside, only to walk back towards the patio steps when he sees Jongin's shoulders quivering. "Look, I'm not forcing you to take my guru advice to heart or whatever, but--" He swiftly plops back down on the top step before he ruffles Jongin's hair. "Life isn't always about choosing sides, y'know."

Staring at his feet, Jongin barely even registers Taemin's words over the way his brain is splitting straight down the middle, and he has to take a deep breath when a sudden head rush hits him like a bag of bricks. The smell of tobacco makes Jongin want to cough when he feels Taemin draping an arm around his shoulders, but he can't bring himself to complain when Taemin goes on to pull him closer. A part of Jongin sort of wants to cry with relief, because he feels every last trace of ice melt into a warm puddle in his chest as soon as he rests his head against Taemin's shoulder. Jongin figures that if it wasn't for the fact that his head is swimming around in a pool of mush, he would have fallen asleep right this second, and he's seconds away from jabbing Taemin in the ribs for being so incredibly warm when a loud sob escapes his throat. Oh, .

"Just talk to Sehun tomorrow," Taemin hums, eyeing the handful of neglected cigarette butts scattered all across the lawn. He blinks when the faint sound of a cell phone ringing somewhere inside the house breaks the silence. "Is it yours or mine?" he sighs, running a hand through his hair. 

Barely able to keep his eyes open, Jongin manages a half-assed shrug as he feels Taemin's hair tickle his forehead. Even though Jongin knows that it's Taemin's phone, given that none of his own friends want to see his face anymore, he finds himself unable to open his mouth as Taemin goes on to complain about how much he isn't in the mood to talk to Chanyeol or Jongdae right now. Jongin feels the familiar dullness settle in his chest, because he has no clue how to tell Taemin that Sehun is probably in the midst of packing to move halfway across the world to avoid him forever. The mere thought has Jongin wanting to burst into a fit of ugly sobs, but he figures that he would rather die than cry in front of Taemin again, so he opts to listen to the trees swaying all around them.

It's not until Jongin worries that he might actually fall asleep that he lifts his head, and he briefly doesn't recognize the calm glint in Taemin's eyes when he looks up. "You should really get some sleep," Jongin mutters, because he already isn't in the mood to get yelled at by Taemin's sleep deprived self first thing tomorrow morning.

Taemin blinks. "Are you talking to yourself right now or just me?" he chuckles, flicking Jongin's forehead. The sound of him frantically scrambling to his feet, before Jongin has a chance to jab him in the ribs, masks the sound of tires crawling to a halt a few feet away. Taemin doesn't bother stifling his snicker when Jongin goes on to complain about his legs being numb. "You'd think an aspiring dancer would be a little more flexible than that-"

"Shut the up," Jongin grumbles, nearly stumbling and falling flat on his face after Taemin grabs his hand and pulls him to his feet. A wave of fatigue washes over him and Jongin make sure to ignore Taemin's questioning gaze when he scrambles for the railing. For once, Jongin is thankful for the biting cold, because it does wonders for his clouding head as he absently scans his darkening surroundings. With the patio light dimming by the minute, Jongin has to squint to make out anything at all, and even in the total blackness, he's at least 99% sure that he makes out the outline of a vehicle when his eyes adjust. Taemin's voice has him snapping out of his trance, and Jongin is thankful that he doesn't give himself whiplash when he turns his head.

"Stop thinking so bloody much," Taemin sighs. "You know, you may be adorable, but you sure as hell are a godawful listener, just saying." His hands fly up in defense when Jongin sends him a murderous glare. "You're lucky you're so goddamn cute, you know that?" he hums, picking his lighter and cigarettes up off the step.

Jongin runs a hand down his face in exasperation. "Yeah, well your face is scary, so there's that," he grumbles, gaze fixated on the large silhouette, which blends in with the darkness almost perfectly from its spot sixty feet away. With the wind howling in his ears, Jongin wonders if he should be questioning his sanity, and he barely registers Taemin playfully pinching his cheek as he swallows the lump in his throat. Jongin inwardly panics when the same feeling of dread creeps up his spine, and no matter how hard he tries, he can't shake it off as he stares ahead of him.   

The longer Jongin finds himself staring into the darkness, the stronger the dread inside his chest grows, which makes him oblivious to Taemin placing a finger under his chin and gently turning his head until they're facing each other. It's not until Taemin goes on to reconnect their lips that Jongin recoils like he's been burned, but he doesn't get a chance to tell Taemin to  off when the loud sound of tires screeching into motion makes both of them jumping five feet in the air.

At first, Jongin has no idea what's going on, but it's not until his eyes land on the large, black car speeding down the road that he worries his knees might cave in. It's not until Jongin catches a whiff of Sehun's perfume that he makes a mental note to check his sanity, which seems to be deteriorating in the cold. Behind him, Jongin hears Taemin saying something about going back to bed, but Jongin finds himself unable to move from his spot by the railing, despite his chest burning.

It's not until his heart threatens to explode that Jongin turns on his heel, making sure to ignore Taemin's existence as he stumbles back inside the house and flies up the stairs.