“Hyung, have you seen my charger?” 

Taemin’s voice breaks through Jonghyun’s thoughts, pulling him back up from the well of ideas he’d floated down into. Jonghyun makes a noise of questioning, slowly pulling his attention up from the mindless scroll of his phone. The sight of Taemin catches him off guard, awe and excitement fluttering up to make themselves known just under his ribcage, his focus solely on the man in front of him.

“I uh…”

He trails off, having already forgotten what Taemin came into the kitchen to ask for. Jonghyun is all too quickly sporting a most dumbstruck look, unable to keep his expression in check, as his eyes rake over the length of Taemin’s body. Taemin is still looking at him like he expects something, a reply maybe, the furrow of his brow distorting his features in the most charming of ways. Were it anyone else Jonghyun might not think twice, not take a second glance, but Taemin, well there was no one else like him. 

The simple white t-shirt Taemin is wearing is stretched over his chest, pulled taught by his shoulders, yet still loose enough to hang around his slim waist. The cotton is threadbare enough that the shirt seemed like it had been cut to fit him specifically, paired with worn blue jeans that painted the perfect slender silhouette of his dancer’s frame. It was so simple, so unbelievably casual, right down to the striped black and maroon socks covering his toes, so little thought having gone into a look that had Jonghyun’s imagination reelin