Catch Taemin If You Can; [seven]

It was after school when Taemin was in the cafeteria mindlessly, watching Jongin lay out irrelevant items onto the table. Energy drinks, gift-wrapped cookies, a hand-knitted scarf, a character cellphone strap… Taemin stared with a soaring brow and Jongin smirked after proudly eyeing every one of his collections.

“…I don’t get it.” Taemin deadpanned. 

“Look.”

Jongin picked up a ribbon-wrapped box and opened it, revealing heart shaped chocolates arranged carefully in a heart-shaped box.

This was happening way too fast. Although Taemin had expected this to happen, how many times did Jongin go and flash his stupid smile to receive all of this in one day? Taemin half-heartedly reached for a chocolate, only to see Jongin motioning for him to eat it and disappointing his expectation of Jongin yelling and struggling to get it back. 

“How does it feel?” Taemin asked as he crunched the chocolate in his mouth.

“Not as awesome as I thought it would feel, to be honest.” Jongin shrugged, putting the lid over the chocolate box. 

“So do you plan on going back to whining over Jung Soojung?”

“I. don't. whine.”

“That’s why people shouldn’t change." Taemin clicked his tongue, ignoring the short-lived glare coming from his friend. "It isn't easy being popular, loser.”

Stuffing the items back into his bag, Jongin got up to his feet and pulled Taemin up by the arm.

“Let’s go.” He said. 

“Where?”

“To karaoke."

◈

Taemin’s dad was a handsome man and Taemin’s mom was a fashion model in her early days. It wasn’t a wonder why Taemin was the type to be called a “flower boy”, but Taemin himself was too busy going through shattered family problems to appreciate his face. For – Taemin’s realized this early on – indeed God was fair. Jongin gaped as Taemin jumped up and down on the table, raving into the mic for thirty minutes straight.

Jongin was the conservative type. He didn’t sing, wasn’t good at making conversations, didn’t have the greatest sense of humour, and Taemin had no idea how Jongin would’ve survived the world if he didn’t have soccer. Feeling his throat itch, Taemin plopped down on the bench. He was going through the book for more songs when Jongin nudged him in the stomach.

“Why are you screaming?”

“It’s called singing, Jongin.”

“Something's up, isn't it.”

Taemin threw the book across the room. It was a stupid idea to try and fool Jongin anyways.

It wasn’t because of the phone call he had with his dad in months, and it wasn’t because of the humiliating moment of crying alone. Those weren’t a problem. The problem was that Taemin didn't know what was wrong with himself. Repeating meaningless relationships and getting frustrated over unknown problems, that was probably what was screwing him up.

“I feel like a… what do you call it…" Taemin sighed aggressively. "An orphan?”

“Your mom called.” Jongin guessed. 

“…No.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he coming?”

“, no. They couldn't care less."

“……”

“I feel like I’ve officially become an orphan." Taemin spat dryly. "It feels like .”

“……”

Jongin was quiet.

“It ing .”

“……”

“Well, say something.”

“Talk, I’ll listen.”

Taemin leaned over and lied down on the couch. He closed his eyes and people’s so-called singing from the distance rang at his ears. He lifted one eye open and saw Jongin looking down at him. Jongin looked like a completely different person from the angle he was seen. Jongin put his hand over Taemin’s eyes and Taemin shook his head lightly to continue to stare up at his friend. Jongin lifted Taemin’s head and set it on his lap. Taemin didn’t say anything, feeling much better than when he had his head resting on the rough leather. They stayed like that in silence. It wasn't a stuffy silence but a comforable kind, as Taemin never had to worry about anything being awkward or troubling when he was with Jongin. Jongin knew what made Taemin f