Ever since the first time they met, Xiumin had liked Tao. Maybe it had been the earnest and utterly adorable way Tao had said, “oppa, hello!” when he was first introduced to Xiumin. Or the way Tao would always melt into Xiumin’s hugs before debut. Maybe it was those dark eyes that held some sort of mysterious past. Or maybe it was that cute smile that Xiumin could never get enough of.

                In any case, he was head over heels for his adorable maknae.

                The only problem was the age difference. Or, it wasn’t the age difference. It was the difference in maturity levels. Xiumin was a mature twenty-two years old. Tao was barely nineteen, and his naïveté sometimes made him seem even younger.

                He didn’t want the others to know how he felt. They didn’t need to. It was better if they didn’t. Xiumin, unlike the other hormone-crazed teenagers in their dorm, was rational. He kept his distance from Tao when he could, no matter how much he wanted to hold him in his arms. It was easier to get himself to stop thinking about Tao, anyway.

                But for some reason, Tao’s whereabouts didn’t seem to work well with Xiumin’s plans. He always saw Xiumin before Xiumin saw him, and Xiumin could never get away. He couldn’t complain, though, because it did honestly make him happy.

                He tried to get himself to forget how he felt for Tao, but every time Tao managed to appear at his side, he couldn’t think of anything but Tao.

                “Hyung,” Tao said one day, walking up to Xiumin with a video camera in his hands. “Will you film a Starcall with me? I want to say it in Korean.”

                “Go ask Jongdae,” Xiumin said, half hoping Tao would disregard Xiumin’s suggestion.

               “I want to do it with you,” Tao said. “I can wait until you’re not busy with whatever you’re doing.”

               “Okay,” Xiumin said. “I can do it now.” Tao’s face brightened and his eyes were shining even behind the thick black glasses he’d taken to wearing for the past few days.

               “We have to get in really close,” Tao explained, “so that the fans can see us properly. Here, put your arm around my shoulder. And correct my Korean if I make a mistake, okay?”

               “I always do,” Xiumin smiled. He wrapped his arms around Tao’s shoulder like he used to do so long ago, and Tao started up the camera. He could feel his walls crumbling as he leaned into Tao, tilting his head when he looked at him, patting Tao’s chest with his hand whenever Tao made a mistake.

               And they’d finished their recording when suddenly Tao turned to Xiumin, whose arms were still wrapped around Tao, and kissed him.

               Xiumin didn’t even have time to be confused as he pulled Tao closer and reciprocated, because there had been nothing he wanted more than that moment. He didn’t even bother to think of consequences, of their maturity gap, or of what other people would think. They didn’t matter, honestly.

               “Hyung, have you been avoiding me on purpose?” Tao asked quietly. “I thought you were, but then you were so…into it…just now, and I—”

               “If I’d known how you felt, I wouldn’t have avoided you,” Xiumin replied. “I really wouldn’t have.”

                “Don’t avoid me anymore. Got it?” Tao said, and Xiumin smiled.

                “Got it.”

                “And kiss me again,” Tao said. Xiumin chuckled.

                “Such a demanding maknae,” he said.

                “Fine then,” Tao said amusedly, “I’ll kiss you, then.”

                And he did.

                And it was amazing. 

I love these two. This Starcall and "oppa, annyeonghaseyo!" are so adorable.