“I’m sorry,” Taemin began as soon as Minho closed the door behind him. Minho’s back was turned to him, but, when the man’s shoulders slumped down, it gave Taemin a sense that he misspoke. Even without looking at Minho’s face, a sense of anguish took over him.

Minho turned around, his eyes tired and his posture slouched. The man looked torn, defeated, as if someone had torn his chest out and handed him his still beating heart. He has tried so hard to be optimistic, to think of the glass half full, but it was difficult to tell if the water kept getting poured out. Minho felt as if every time he got the glass back in the water, it would jump out, as if to say that there was no positive light to this situation.

The elder turned towards the black haired man, “Obviously, we have some problems in our relationship, and if we want to continue it, we have to talk it out, or I’m going to need that ring back.”

Taemin flinched, pulling his hand up to his chest as if the very idea had burnt him. It had though, internally. Minho was such a sweet person, always making sure that everyone else was okay, that everyone was happy and comfortable. But what about him? Who was taking care of Minho’s well being? As his lover it was his job, but look at the mess that he had made of it. Taemin made a mistake, but it was on the same level as a surgeon making one.

He looked down at the ring on his hand, glinting in the light as if to mock him. He couldn’t take it off now, not when he wasn’t ready for the relationship to end, not ready for the love to turn bitter and awkward (in this room, it already had). The ring was supposed to be happy, and Taemin was going to make it so.

With a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and looked Minho dead in the eye with conviction, “I’m not taking the ring off, hyung. I don’t want to.”

He walked over to the bed and sat down, back straight, before turning towards the other male, his eyes misty with tears. Minho looked straight ahead, unable to face the younger.

Taemin made to grab his hand, but it was stiff and uncomfortable, not warm and stable like how it always was.

“I should’ve talked about my issues with you, like how a normal couple should.”

“We’re not a normal couple, Taemin,” Minho whispered, looking down at his hands. He pursed his lips looking over to his lover. Taemin didn’t understand his sentiment at times, well most of the time. Minho wanted a sweet relationship, and had tried his hardest to make the best of the situation that the both of them were forced into. In the process, he had fallen in love with Taemin, and had hoped that the same could be said for the younger. He understood now that he believed wrong; he was the only one burned by his traitor of a heart.

“I’m sorry! What more do you want to hear from me?” Taemin yelled, jumping off the bed in a hurry, his voice going hoarse at the end. He looked desperate, hysterical even. In a sense he was desperate, Minho had shown him a kindness that was unprecedented in their industry. He could have ignored him, painted a smile for the camera like most idols in their situation had and then iron it down the moment the cameras left. Minho didn’t do that though. He smiled at Taemin like they were actually in love, like they weren’t victims of an ongoing system. Taemin didn’t didn’t know if he loved him or not, but he knew that he didn’t want to lose this man.

“What you said isn’t something I can forget easily Taemin! I’m not a piece of paper where you can erase your mistakes! I am a living person, and apparently not the one you want to be eventually married to.”

Minho had understood what Taemin had said; he couldn’t relate to his situation, but he understood. He shouldn’t have assumed his affections and he shouldn’t have gotten the ring in the first place. This was one of his mistakes that he was willing to accept.

“I do want to marry you!”

Minho looked at him, his expression weary. He had to ask him, had to know how he felt.

“Do you even love me, Taemin? Like how a lover would?”

Taemin stilled, his expression frozen like a deer caught in headlights. He took a shaky breath and looked away, unable to meet Minho’s eyes. He knew he couldn’t answer that because he himself didn’t know.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, wanting the room to swallow him up and leave him in eternal darkness.

Minho took a sharp breath, holding it in as his expression shut down, his head falling into his hands. He let go of the breath and shook his head, not knowing whether he wanted to laugh, cry, or run back to Junmyeon’s dorm and hid for the rest of his life.

He had known, deep down in his heart, that Taemin didn’t love him, that he shouldn’t assume that just because they were amicable with each other that it was love. He should have known not to misread the situation, not to make it uncomfortable for the both of them when the question about love eventually came up.

“Minho?” Taemin asked, his voice quiet and afraid after he had given his answer. The man in question was still, mimicking a statue, and had not replied to his statement.

Minho pursed his lips in thought. They couldn’t end things now, their company wouldn’t let them. They couldn’t completely avoid each other either, so they were stuck in a predicament. Minho could at least end their short, misadventure of an engagement- if it could even be called that since he never actually proposed.

“Taemin, I don’t think you’re ready to be tied down officially, give me the ring back please.”

Taemin pulled back as if he had been slapped across the face. He felt a cold dread moving through his veins, his body beginning to still completely.

They couldn’t end up like this, not them who had treated each other differently than other couples. They weren’t Yixing and Junmyeon, they didn’t avoid each other like the plague. This couldn’t happen to them, not them.

“Minho-” Taemin breathed out, his lips quivering. Not them, they couldn’t end up like the others- they couldn’t!

Taemin couldn’t decide if he wanted to step forward or run away. This couldn’t be happening to them, he wouldn’t let it. He didn’t understand his feelings for the other man, but he at least knew that he cared for him.

“Taemin please.”

A silence stilled over the room, thick and foreboding. Taemin felt his shoulders slump down, his eyes dropping to the ground instead of the ring that had been on his hand for such a short period of time. He wouldn’t be above beginning for this not to end, for Minho not to put a stop to this.

“What do I need to do to keep this ring on my hand?”

Minho shook his head and looked to the side, sighing. He leaned back and ran his hands through his hair before letting them fall into his lap. He glanced at Taemin for a second before speaking.

“Taemin, that’s not how it works.”

No, no, they would not end like this, Taemin wouldn’t let it.

He rushed onto the bed, grabbing Minho’s arm.

“Do you want me to be docile? I can be docile!” He forced himself to snuggle into Minho’s arm like courtesans would when greeting a client. “Do you want me to-”

“Taemin stop. Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Minho spoke, his voice hard as he pulled his arm away from Taemin. He wouldn’t demand this man to change for him, to manipulate and maul everything that defined him in order to please someone else. Taemin was Taemin, not malleable clay that potters used for vases. He would not do this to Taemin, it wasn’t like either of them.

“Minho, please! I’ll be good, I’ll do anything but take this ring off me. I’ll be good I swear!”

Minho stood up, anger rushed through his body like electricity. He could feel his chest tighten, could feel his muscles coiling up in disgust. He wouldn’t not let Taemin belittle himself like that, could not, will not. Taemin might not love him, but Minho sure did, and he wouldn’t let his love look down on himself like that.

Minho stepped forward, falling onto his knees before the shorter man, a thump sounding as his patella collided with the tiled floor.

Taemin’s eyes shot up at the sound, locking onto Minho’s before widening in shock. Minho shouldn’t be on his knees, it was too demeaning for him, he couldn’t let anyone see the prideful man like this!

He leaned forward, trying to grab Minho’s elbows to urge him up because if anyone saw him, it would tear his reputation to shreds. If he was seen, if someone got a picture of this, his career would be gone.

“Minho! You can’t- please get up! If someone sees you-”

“Let them.”

“Minho!”

“Taemin.”
 

Taemin grasped his elbows, trying to hull the man up, but couldn’t- Minho was a healthy adult male that went to the gym way more frequently than Taemin.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Minho if someone sees you like this, your career will be ruined!”

“Let it!”

“Minho,” Taemin looked horrified.

“I deserve it for making you feel any less than the person you are, than who you should have pride being,” Minho began, his eyes on the ground in shame. The guilt he felt was roaring within him like a lit fire, spreading through the forest of his body like a wildfire.

“Minho you didn’t do anything wrong,” Taemin pleaded, his efforts to get Minho off the ground doubled.

Minho gently pushed Taemin’s hands off of his arms before lowering him to the bed to sit. He grasped the younger’s face in his hands, holding it like an emperor would hold jade and gold. He brushed a thumb over the silken skin of Taemin’s cheek.

“What haven’t I done wrong if you have to lower yourself to please me? Why do you have the right to think of yourself so lowly when you are so much more? Lee Taemin, you are one of the most talented people in Korea, in the world, and yet why must you have to lower yourself to dirt because you think you’re not worthy of me? Me who made you want to throw who you are out the window, me who made you want to be someone you aren’t, someone you should never be. I’m unworthy of you, Lee Taemin, you stupid, beautiful man,” Minho whispered, resting his forehead on Taemin’s lowered one. He had tears in his eyes, ones he could not tell if they were of shame or sadness, maybe both.

Taemin sniffled, tears dripping down his cheeks and over Minho’s fingers. Minho was so good to him, too good to him who blew up on him, who spit venom from spite. Minho always came back from their arguments, would always apologize for upsetting him, would kiss his forehead and make him laugh when he was upset. The man who would always check up on him after performances, the man who flew all the way to Japan just to see his concert.

A sob fell out of Taemin’s lips, and then another in succession until all he had falling out of his mouth were cries of anguish, of despondency and disbelief. He grasped Minho’s hands like a lifeline, holding them against his face as he sobbed out his emotions.

“You’re too good to me,” he choked out between his tears. “You’re too good to me, Minho.”

Minho gave him a watery smile, his thumbs working to wipe the tears away from the handsome face in front of him. He leaned in and planted a kiss on a wrinkled forehead.

“You deserve it, you deserve everything and more.”

“No I don’t,” came the reply, muddled in distress.

Minho let out a marbled chuckle. “Yes you do, silly boy. Yes you do.”

Taemin let out another sob, falling forward into Minho, pushing the both of them onto the ground. Minho let out a breath before moving his hands from Taemin’s face to his middle, pulling him closer, hugging him to his chest. Minho let out a sob in tandem to Taemin, his lip wobbling before opening to release another cry.

The room filled with joint crying as the two let their emotions take control. Both were overwhelmed with the situation, of what had happened between them and the uncertainty of the coming future.

After a good while of weeping, their whimpers had calmed to uneven breathing. Both laid on the floor, wrapped in each other’s arms, the embrace tight.

Minho’s back started to protest from laying on the hard ground for an extended period of time, and his shoulders were stiff with discomfort. Tenderly, he sat up, mindful of the other male hugging him like a lifeline. They ended up relocating on the bed, still hugging each other firmly.

“Please don’t leave me,” Taemin sniveled, looking less like the confident dancer and more like a man afraid to lose someone important.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” Minho responded, his eyes having focused on a mark on their ceiling.

A silence stretched across the room, awaiting Taemin’s reply. He didn’t.

Minho let a tired smile fall across his face, turning to the other occupant of the bed. Taemin wasn’t looking at him, rather finding the door of the room more interesting. Minho raised his hand, tilting Taemin’s face up to his.

“I couldn’t, Taemin.”

Minho moved his hand away from the other’s face to grab his hand. Minho moved both their hands to his chest, on top of where his heart rested.

“My heart had already decided to beat for you, if I left you, I would have to maim myself to.”

“Please give me a chance to fall in love with you,” Taemin said, his eyes earnest as he met Minho’s.

“I would give you the entire world if I could, Taemin.”

They gave each other a fragile smile, a fragile reintroduction to each other.