Taemin woke up the later that afternoon, still tightly held against Minho’s chest. He remembered the sweet events of earlier that morning. About how they made love, it was all so perfect in Taemin’s eyes but Taemin’s conscience said otherwise. Being gay is weak! You’re a disappointment! Do you want your parents to resent you? Panic set in, Taemin detached himself from Minho, hurriedly putting on some clothes before running out the door. Taemin ran as fast as he possibly could, he wanted to retreat from anywhere were Minho could possibly find him. But before he could do that, he needed to get the feel on Minho off his flesh. Night fell, when Taemin walked into the bathhouse.

‘Thank you Ahjumma.’ Taemin bowed to the lady at the front counter. Taking the key and clothing to change into out of her hands. Taemin went to the locker room, got changed and put his things into the locker and went into the bathing area, where he scrubbed his skin, all over until it was entirely red raw, but the feeling of Minho just wouldn’t leave.

‘Why Minho, Why?’ Taemin repeated above a whisper, why couldn’t they just have been friends, why did this have to happen. Taemin’s conscience spoke again. Never, give in to lust or love of a gay man; it’s the ultimate weakness of all.

‘I’m weak, I’m so weak!’ Taemin said louder this time. The people near giving him weird looks, as if he were a madman. He continued to scrub, but the sinking of feeling of giving into Minho, and becoming weak, was laced with hatred. He hated Minho for doing that to him. He could he? He even told him his story, and then Taemin came to his conclusion. He must hate me that much, that he wanted to see me suffer. Taemin face turned from, sketchy to anger in seconds.

‘I hate you, Choi Minho!’ Taemin screamed across the bathhouse.

‘I ing hate you!’ With that he ran out, he quickly dried himself, and put his clothing back on from his locker, he threw the clothing and towel in the washing pile by the door, gave the Ahjumma the key and ran out at top speed yet again. Taemin finally stopped at a park, sitting on a swing only now realising just how much his spine pained him.

‘ you Minho!’ Taemin swore under his breath, but his mood changed from angry to sad.

‘How could I be such a fool?’ Taemin voiced, how could he not have noticed what he was doing. Taemin drew circles, in the dirt under the swing, with the toe of his shoe. Bored out of his mind, while the man who just ruined him, lay in his home, in his bed. Hadn’t he been punished enough already? Taemin sat there going between, drawing circles in the dirt, and slowly swinging, until some one carried him away. Minho woke up from his sleep, expecting Taemin to be curled up in his side, just like how they fell asleep last night. But he was wrong. Minho got up and went for a shower, after changing back into his clothes a roughly drying his hair; Minho wrapped the towel around his neck as he went in search for Taemin.

‘Taeminnie, where are you?’ Minho asked as he searched from room to room. But there was no sign of him anywhere.

‘Taeminnie, where are you? I’m starting to worry.’ Minho ran back into the bedroom noting, the clothes that Taemin had worn where no longer on the ground, or in the laundry hamper. Minho threw the towel on the ground, and went to put his shoes on to go in search for Minnie. There he noticed that Taemin’s shoes were also missing.

‘!’ Minho cursed, as he hurriedly put his shoes on as he ran downstairs in search of Taemin. Minho ran through the streets screaming Taemin’s name for hours. Everywhere, he knew that Taemin went, his University, to the grocery store, the markets, all of the parks in the area. There was no sign of Taemin. Where could he have gone? Why would he leave me without a note? Minho thought to himself. He returned back to Taemin’s apartment hoping that Taemin had returned while he was gone. But all hope was lost when he returned, to deathly silence, and no movement. Taemin was gone. He was just gone, so Minho went back to his apartment in one of the neighbouring suburbs, he hoped and prayed, that Taemin would return. He didn’t want to relive the pain he went through all that time ago, not when his dreams finally came true. Taemin woke up, last he remembered he was on a swing, but now he was lying on a couch with a white faux fur blanket over him, and a fluffy pillow under his head.  Taemin had no idea were he was, as his eyes adjusted to the light of the room he looked around for any sign of some one. Getting up from the couch carefully making his way to the light down the hallway, Taemin found another lounge room, kitchen area, but this one had some one in it.

‘I see you’ve woken up.’ Said the man who was making sandwiches.

‘Did you sleep well? I can’t believe you fell asleep on a swing, that’s something I couldn’t do.’ The man said with a laugh he seemed a fair bit older than Taemin. But he just made his way over to the breakfast bar in the kitchen, mouth watering and hoping one of those sandwiches was for him he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning before he saw Minho. Minho. That name bounced in his head, anger flaring up inside him. His hands which were lying on the bench clenched so tight his knuckles turned pure white.

‘Are you okay there? You’re tense? Is everything alright?’ The man questioned Taemin, looking up from the sandwiches.

‘No. But don’t worry about me I’ll be fine.’ Taemin felt like injuring some one, and that one person in particular he would have loved to be Minho. The man rested his hands on Taemin’s shoulders, gentling massaging the knots out of his trapezius muscles. He relaxed into the man’s touch. It felt so safe. What was with him and trusting strangers so much lately?

‘Would you like to tell me what’s wrong? I might be able to help you know?’ The man asked still massaging Taemin’s neck.

‘No thank you, you wouldn’t understand, not many people do.’ Taemin directed that statement at Minho even though he was miles away probably still sleeping in his bed.

‘I’ve been through more than you realise…’ he trailed off recalling his memories, the massaging on Taemin’s neck slowed until they stopped. Taemin turned to look at the man, he was in a daze, completely unaware that he even existed. Taemin waved his hand in front of the man’s face.

‘Hello?’ the man broke from his daydream, snapping back into reality. The man told Taemin his dream, upon listening Taemin, broke out in tears, everything that had happened to him the man had just said but in Heechul’s point of view, and everything that had happened to him after. Then it dawned on him; he even looked similar to Taemin, the fitted. It was Heechul.

‘Heechul?’ Taemin asked nervously, his head spinning to look at Taemin’s.

‘Taemin?’ Heechul answered, tears flowed from their eyes, as they into an embrace.