It was beautiful while it lasted, the kiss, but it left in its wake a curious sort of awkwardness on Minho’s part and infinite sadness on Taemin’s. Taemin took a step back after listening to Minho’s nervous fumbling, not out of embarrassment but out of mechanical sorrow. Indeed, there was not a trace of a mortified blush on the light expanse of his pale skin. Rather there were small wisps of evident sadness. His usually upturned smiling lips were stretched in thin line, his usually glowing eyes were downcast and his legs wouldn’t run along with the vivacious energy that they earlier possessed. This change tore through Minho’s being. He knew he was singularly responsible for it and somehow he felt a guilt he never had before. Indeed, Taemin had neither let a word of reproach cross his lips, nor had motioned anything to make Minho feel the way he did. But the silence was as powerful as the force of spoken words. Even more, Minho thought; because the silence throttled him and smothered him with its awful stillness.

“Maybe I should,” Taemin started, breaking the suffocating silence with hesitant words. Minho was glad for the interruption. He turned and looked eagerly at Taemin with questioning eyes as Taemin continued, “Maybe I should go home. I think I could catch a flight home now. There are continuous flights ferrying from here to home. I can just buy a ticket on the spot when I reach there. I needn’t even pack because I haven’t really removed anything.”

          His voice this time didn’t even hold the childlike eagerness of before. There wasn’t a single note of lingering sadness, not even a slight tinge of bitter disappointment. But it was strangely flat and expressionless and somehow Minho thought it conveyed more than any hot words or flawed emotions could.

           Perhaps it would have been best for Taemin to do so, but somehow Minho felt uneasy giving his assent. Some part of him was earnestly entreating Taemin to stay back, to not go. Perhaps, he didn’t want Taemin to go. Perhaps, he wanted time to fathom his feelings. So he shook his head with more force than intended and said stoically, fixing his eyes on black dots of figures moving far away, “No, it’s stupid to attempt something this late in the evening. Let it be. If there’s anywhere you need to go, it’s better to leave in the morning. You can stay the night.” And his voice was as expressionless as Taemin’s because he was uncomfortable. And discomfiture made him stoic. In that span of a few minutes, in the aftermath of that kiss, the two of them had been transformed into strangers, speaking because courtesy demanded and being civil because awkwardness had to be masked.

           Taemin seriously considered turning down Minho’s offer. It seemed to him as though there was not a note of invitation in his voice. But beneath the apparent harshness, Taemin’s sharp intuitive ears thought he detected the same feelings he housed. He closed his eyes and without thinking, let the words run down his lips, “Okay.” And nothing more.

           And Minho didn’t know why he felt a strange sort of lightness after hearing Taemin’s short assent. He didn’t know why there was a curious sort of happiness even though the awkwardness was weighing down on him. He didn’t know why there was an odd kind of relief manifesting in his emotions. He didn’t know. And somehow, he didn’t care.

           They reached home with the same silence ringing in their ears. Minho softly unlocked the door and it swung open almost as noiselessly on its hinges. The dark corridor stretched before them with its blackness apparently reflecting the darkest of their feelings. Taemin slowly gripped the wall and made his way to the long sofa. Minho’s fumbling fingers found the switches and almost theatrically the house lit up with a sudden movement. It glowed, all of it, right from the marble carvings to the wooden doors. Minho refused to meet Taemin’s gaze but strode into the kitchen. There he spent his next hour, long fingers rushing along empty pots, filling up unnecessary bottles, clanging unused spoons. Occasionally, his eyes would wander along to the doorway and would watch Taemin sitting on the sofa, staring ahead blankly into space. And once more, a cold hand would clutch his heart.

         As the clock chimed the warnings for dinner time, Minho hurriedly dropped a packet of ramen into boiling water, watching it intently as it simmered down. A few minutes past, and he was setting down two bowls of watery noodles on the table, half-turning towards Taemin telling him to come to eat without saying a word. Taemin came up noiselessly, flashed Minho a smile that seemed to him curiously devoid of emotion and sat down to eat after muttering a beautiful thank you.

           Dinner was a quiet, hurried affair. Minho clanged his bowl loudly against his bowl to chase away the ringing silence. Taemin, on the other hand, gulped down his food so softly that it seemed to an onlooker that he simply wasn’t present. An awkward hour of television followed their meal and it took Minho all of his resolve to avoid peeping at Taemin every few seconds. Once or twice, their knees would knock and their fingers would graze and they would look away in embarrassment. It was almost queer the way their mannerisms could change in a matter of few hours.

        “I’ll sleep here, if you don’t mind.” Taemin murmured softly as Minho made preparations to go to bed. Minho looked back quickly and saw Taemin motioning to a stiff-backed, long sofa that seemed to him utterly uncomfortable. But somehow, Minho didn’t think arguing and playfully asking Taemin to come and sleep in his room was befitting the situation. The unspoken words and the misunderstood emotions stood thickly before them and in their face, Minho could only nod. He sighed and brought a thick blanket and the softest pillow he could find and placed them gently on the sofa. “If you feel uncomfortable during the night, you can always come to one of the rooms.” Minho said. And Taemin nodded without appearing to have heard a single word.

        And Minho walked away, standing at the corner of the turn and feeling like a perfect stalker, watching as Taemin shook the blanket once, then got into the makeshift bed and pulled it over himself. He assured himself that Taemin was comfortable and wouldn’t feel cold during the night and took a deep breath. He made his way to his own room, his legs heavy and his heart as cold as marble. The apparent cosiness of his room in comparison to the dreary sofa made him feel miserable, but he shook the feeling away as he threw out his bedcovers and lay in bed, staring at the blank ceiling and the relentless fan moving in circles.

         The night turned chilly, yet he refused to pick up his blankets and cover himself with them. Somehow, it seemed wrong and this seemed like the only way he could punish himself.

         He thought and he thought hard. He wondered what was it about his own personality that constantly tried to push people away. He wondered if all of his life’s failures in relationships were but his fault. He wondered about his feelings and his mannerisms. He wondered about himself. And in the course of doing so, he wondered about Taemin too. He asked himself what it really was that was that was keeping him from reciprocating the feelings he so clearly felt for Taemin. Was it his fear of being pronounced gay? Was it his hard personality? Or was it his own self? He began to realize how in the course of the years, he had succeeded in covering himself with layers and layers of nonchalance, afraid to look further and move any further in love and life. He began to realise that the root of every one of his problems was himself.

          He recollected his impassive, calm, cool exterior with every person. He wasn’t a loner, far from it. But he wasn’t exuberant either. He couldn’t proceed too far in relationships of friendship or love. And then, he realized, and then came along Taemin. He began to understand that it was Taemin who had coaxed him out of the shell of nonchalance he had created for himself. And he had come out, slowly at first, then faster and somewhere down the line; he tried to come out too fast and had succeeded in hurting himself. He realised that the time had come for him to discard his shell completely and emerge free. He realized that he needed to acknowledge his emotions. He realized that he loved Taemin.

        The clock struck twelve, but the stillness of the night had never been so liberating. Minho got up immediately from his bed; he didn’t believe in postponing things. He walked out with a slight spring in his steps and a happy song on his plump lips. His eyes, accustomed to the darkness, recognized the sleeping, softly breathing silhouette of Taemin. He went closer and realized that Taemin was crouched in a small curve, the blanket wrapped tightly around him and his back turned to Minho.

        Minho placed a light hand on Taemin’s shoulder intending to wake him up, but somehow the sight of him sleeping was too angelic to disturb. So instead, he sat beside Taemin, lightly brushing away the locks of his fair hair from his face and blowing softly at his troubled face. The power of the night was inebriating and he lay down slowly beside Taemin, moulding his body into Taemin’s, wrapping his arms around Taemin and resting his chin in the crook of Taemin’s neck. He left a soft, beautiful line of kisses down Taemin’s neck and nuzzled him with his nose, softly, gently and innocently. His arms were wrapped loosely around Taemin’s waist, his legs intertwined with Taemin’s and his back pressed into Taemin’s. And they breathed almost synchronically. Their hearts beat in unison.

       Taemin sighed a soft sigh and suddenly awoke. He blinked rapidly, trying to get accustomed to the lack of light while his mind was vaguely aware of a strong body holding him and guiding him. He wriggled slowly and twisted his neck in the most ungainly fashion, when his sleep-laden eyes caught sight of Minho’s glittering eyes. Minho laughed a soft, throaty laugh and Taemin wondered if he was dreaming. His eyes widened as he felt the arms so closely wrapped around him and the soft kisses lingering on his skin. His legs quivered as they felt the warmth of Minho’s surround them and his heart began beating almost erratically.

       He parted his lips to speak, but a strong palm placed itself softly on his lips. He blushed.

“Hush,” Minho huskily whispered in his ear, “Don’t say a word. Let me speak.” And every word seemed to rush through his mind and course through his every vein. “I’ve been unfair to you. I’ve been dishonest with myself. And I’ve been an utter idiot. I think the fact that you’ve managed to change me so much should have been evidence enough, but somehow my dense brain refused to take that into consideration. And I’m saying this, without all the ts and the bows because I’ve never been sentimental. But, Lee Taemin, I love you. That’s it. I love you.”

         Taemin felt his head reel after hearing all of this. He wondered if it really was a dream or whether it was happening in the dark of the night, in the arms of Minho. He wriggled and successfully managed to turn and face Minho. Their eyes bore into each other’s with the intensity of their love. Taemin pulled closer, gently placing one arm around Minho’s strong torso and another on his rough cheek. He gazed affectionately into Minho’s round orbs and lightly grazed his cheek with his smooth fingertips. Minho brought his closer and placed Taemin’s other arm around his body too. They were locked in an embrace so silent and so intense that the need for clear enunciation had long since vanished.

“I love you too.” Taemin said in one breath, but somehow Minho knew that already.

       They slept that night, enveloped in each other’s arms, unknowingly providing warmth and solace to the other. Unknowingly they completed each other. Unknowingly they had grown to be a part of each other.

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I just realized this would have been an amazing way to end the fic had I not killed poor Minho's parents. xD Ah, what the hell. See, I'm not such a mean thing after all, I made them get together yeah? Read and shower them with your love! 

KariLovesJenna, saae, vickietang, I LOVE YOU FOR THE UPVOTES :* FEEL MY EXPLOSIVE LOVE xD

Oh and some shameless self-advertising. How many Exo fans here? A crime-romance fic with Exo. Superintendent Oh Sehun, folks! :*

The Man Made of Shadows