Part Four

Chulsoo didn’t answer his phone so Minho had no choice but to take Taemin to his apartment for the night. The guy didn’t stir at all when Minho shook him, not even when he carried him in and dropped him on the bed. He did away with his shoes and took off his watch and phone before shifting him slightly to the corner and then put a pillow barricade in between before he dropped on the other side of the bed, exhausted by his effort of carrying Taemin in.

Sleep came easily–it almost felt like he had only blinked and the night had passed. It felt that way when he woke up. He had forgotten to close his blinds, so he had woken up to the light. He shifted to grab his phone to check the time, but he noticed a grip on him. He almost got a scare–almost–because the next moment he remembered what had happened last night. He had brought a drunk Taemin home.

He let out a breath and shifted the comforter and yes, it was Taemin who was sleeping snuggled against him–his arms and legs wound around him. As Minho watched him, he noticed the way his existence mingled with his own—his warmth—he was so close that he could feel his hot breathing hit his skin even through the t-shirt. The weight of his body on him, the way his body rose and relaxed against his own.

The smell of alcohol and cigarettes faintly flitted the air around him, yet there was something sweeter–Taemin’s fragrance–that overpowered them. Minho stayed still, his brain still catching up with the occurrence, but his gaze lingered on Taemin’s eyes–they were closed and the shape of his eyelashes was noticeable. They were long, and pretty. Taemin’s eyes as a whole were. He had thought so earlier too, casually of course, from the viewpoint of a photographer. But this time, his thoughts came from… someplace else. And he didn’t care to follow them to the source, distracted by the details he further discovered. Taemin's cheek squished against his chest. His parted lips. Minho had noticed they were plush and uniquely shaped before, it was another thing, seeing them so close, with a tiny red mark where he might’ve bitten himself in his sleep.

When Taemin moved against him, Minho’s daze broke but he also froze. Taemin had adjusted himself too close to him and his knee… Taemin’s knee was right between his legs, it rubbed against his crotch before resting on it, and suddenly, every detail that had seemed harmless and innocent and pretty on him, Minho started to view them in a different light. Blame it on his brain that was doing the obvious and following the signals of his depraved body.

“Taemin?” Minho first tried by calling him out, “Wake up.”

Taemin did stir, but he didn’t even open his eyes. The only response Minho got was a half-asleep whine of refusal and Minho sighed, relaxing back into his pillow for a bit to think. But there was something very distracting about the way Taemin’s warmth felt against his body, the rhythms of his breathing… and that whiny noise he had made and his blood just had to rush down south. When he felt that jolt, he didn’t care to think anymore and got up immediately.

Taemin finally woke up with the force with which Minho had gotten up and Minho noticed his grouchy self return. Taemin straightened up too–his hair was standing up in all kinds of directions and the thought of that being cute passed by in Minho’s mind, if only fleetingly. After straightening up, Taemin just rested back against the headboard and squinted at Minho before he just closed his eyes.

“Why are you hard?” His sleepy voice was pleasantly hoarse and husky.

Minho glanced below; he hadn’t thought it would be apparent, but it was. He grew more embarrassed than ever, “It’s just a physiological reaction.”

“To me?”

Minho sighed and sat down on the bed. “You rubbed your knee against me in your sleep.”

“It doesn’t take much for you to get .” Taemin opened his eyes and got out of his bed. “Drop me off at the train station on the way to wherever you have to go today.”

Minho couldn’t help but get a bit triggered. Because now he knew Taemin could speak properly and politely, but he didn’t use that way of speaking with him. He was kind of polite, but something about the way he spoke to him was just… demanding and informal. Minho was the older one, he knew because he had checked Taemin’s birth date on the guy's profile. Heck, even visibly Minho was older but Taemin didn’t seem to care. There was also the fact that he had omitted the magic words of apology and gratitude from their conversation altogether.

But Minho decided to be patient. Taemin may still be out of it from being drunk last night. “Okay. But you should go home–or your dorm–first. Do you really want to go out in last night’s clothes?”

Taemin turned and found the mirror. He tugged at his clothes–they were all wrinkled and he tried to set his hair down but to no avail. “Give me your clothes.” He said, turning to Minho, his voice was not even the slightest bit hesitant to ask for clothes from a stranger—an acquaintance. He walked around the room and slowly opened the first door he saw, confirming it was the bathroom. “I’ll return them if possible. Otherwise, I’ll just pay for them.”

Minho just sighed. He went to his wardrobe and pulled out the first set of clothes he had. When he had turned, Taemin said, “Towel.”

Minho grabbed a fresh towel too and handed him everything before he watched Taemin enter and lock the bathroom door.

Sighing again, Minho busied himself in making some toast and coffee and it helped him calm down in more than one way. His alarm for the day also rang while he was busy in the kitchen–and he got reminded he had to drive out of town for an outdoor shoot. At least with the whole morning mishap, he had gotten an early start.

When Taemin was out, he rushed into the bathroom, calling out to him that he was welcome to eat breakfast. And when he was out, he noticed Taemin nibbling on a toast, and also wearing a jacket Minho didn’t remember giving him. It drowned him but still suited him in a way because of how tiny he looked in it… but the next second, Minho realized it was the jacket he had hung on the coat hanger in the corner of his room. He usually hung clothes that he could wear again there. Minho had worn that jacket last week for a few hours only, so he’d hung it there instead of throwing it into the laundry basket. With a sigh, Minho decided to let Taemin be and not call it out because the guy might’ve been feeling cold. It was cold outside too and Minho anyway would have offered him a jacket when they were leaving. But a fresh one, not something off his coat hanger. But well, whatever.

“Where are you going?” Minho asked after he had poured himself some coffee and joined Taemin on the sofa.

Taemin was silent for a bit before he finally replied. “Anwong.”

“Anwong?” Minho was surprised. “With the themed village and man-made waterfalls nearby. That Anwong?”

“I am afraid there’s only one.”

“I have an outdoor shoot there today. I can drive you.”

“Are you over Jieun already?”

Minho froze. He stared at his mug of coffee before he put it down and glanced at Taemin. He was pretty calm for having made that comment and was scrolling through his phone now.

Minho had tried to be polite. Kind. But Taemin had poked at the most vulnerable part of him and the fact that he remembered Jieun’s name from a couple of months ago, and from a conversation that shouldn’t have been important enough to remember for him, was proof enough that he had done it intentionally.

“That is none of your business,” Minho said, still maintaining his calm tone, and picked up his coffee again.

“Then, bringing me to your house,” Taemin began, “Letting me sleep in your bed, giving me clothes, making me breakfast, and offering to drive me two hours to another town…” He got up, “Shouldn’t be your business.” He had left without sparing him a glance and Minho sighed and rested back on the sofa, ruffling his hair in frustration before just deciding to forget this and get on with his day.

Minho was dealing with another “VIP client”. Basically, a social-media famous couple who were going to hold their engagement party in Anwong’s themed village and wanted their pictures and pictures of their venue to be part of the invitation. It sounded like a simple assignment but for Minho, it was intriguing because his perspective had continued to change ever since he had learned to recognize the unique–the subtle and hidden–focal point he wanted to capture in an image. It was another thing when sometimes the persons themselves told him what they wanted the photo to look like, and he tried his best to find the perfect view, the perfect angle that represented it. Nevertheless, he found everything challenging, a valuable experience. Now he had yet another reason to not refuse simple assignments such as these.

Since he had been thinking about continuing as a fashion photographer, he had applied to many places but he hadn’t heard back from any of them. It was because his portfolio was lacking–he was aware of it fully–and he had agreed to work with Chief Do so he could get opportunities to improve his portfolio. He had gotten one with Chief Editor Ahn, but it wasn’t related to fashion. The pictures he took at fashion shows were more of the editorial type. Meant for articles. The closest he had gotten to taking pictures of a model were the numerous profile pictures he took for rookies, but they were pretty basic, in his opinion. The pictures he had taken of Seonho back in his old apartment when he was studying were better, but at that time his camera wasn’t that great. So that was why he thought the pictures he took of Taemin recently were the closest thing to what matched his current portfolio, even though those were supposed to be just profile pictures too.

Minho sighed. He was taking a short break after taking pictures of the venue. The couple was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes, so he was just going through the pictures on his camera… and his mood had gotten a bit sour because his thoughts had found a way to land on Taemin again.

And he remembered their last conversation and his thoughts had found a way to Jieun too.

He felt a painful tugging in his heart at her remembrance. His mood dipped as well. He couldn’t help but wonder how she was and what she was doing at the moment, but reality didn’t take time to hit. It wasn’t that hard to reason with himself and just push back the thought of her and get on with whatever he was doing.

But… to answer Taemin’s question… he couldn’t say if he was over her. He didn’t know how getting over ev