I know, I know. This chapter is so late. I am so sorry!
Thank you SO MUCH and I love you all!
 

Summers have usually left Taemin with a feeling of distaste and memories of repugnance. He very much loved the cold; the windows were left open for infrequent winter breezes and hot chocolate could always be found within his reach. This particular summer however, Taemin became immune to the heat and the melting sun, and forgot his hatred for the season as a whole. He now awoke with fresh eyes and fresh perspectives on the blooming summer flowers and now focused not on the heat, but the shade of a tree.  

Taemin represented the perfect hermit, and anyone who even slightly knew him could point it out with ease. Considering this, one would find it awfully strange to see Taemin spending so much time with a single person and never once growing tired of it. Jongin also noticed Taemin’s willingness to constantly be with one another, yet he was definitely not complaining, and embraced it undividedly. Occasionally, Taemin lost himself during the days spent with Jongin, which were now seen as dreams rather than day and night. He now practically lived at Jongin’s house; only returning home in the evening to help with his mother’s cooking and brighten up her day with leftover blushes and wonderful stories.  

One morning late in June, as Taemin was enjoying the massive book collection in the depths of Jongin’s room, Jongin walked in holding a very ancient looking video camera. “Hey, Taeminie… Do you think you could record me dancing? It’s part of the application to the school in Hong Kong.” Taemin looked up from a translated version of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina to stare a little hesitantly at the camera, and then to Jongin’s hopeful smile. He was torn between the pain of anything to do with him leaving, and seeing Jongin’s honest dream come true. He slowly rose from his crisscrossed position. “Sure…”Jongin sensed Taemin’s indisposition, yet there was nothing he could say; he had to apply, at least.

They found a cleared space with decent lighting, and Taemin stepped back to get a full view of Jongin’s body. There was something a little too planned and a little too expected for either of them to take it seriously. This might be why the two broke into laughter the instant Taemin began recording. After they both calmed themselves, they attempted take two. Taemin had to bite his lip to hold his laughter, which led Jongin to laugh, and led to take three, and eventually take fifteen. In the midst of pointless laughter, Jongin tried again, with failing determination. “Annyeonghaseyo, my name is Jim Kongin…” Taemin’s focused façade burst into yet another fit of laughter, as they held onto each other for support, sides aching terribly.

Maybe Taemin was just a little too upset over the entire ordeal, and maybe Jongin felt a little remorse for making Taemin do this for him. They inhaled and exhaled deeply before they began their final take. Jongin correctly introduced himself, fought off an intruding smile, and began his choreography. Taemin expected Jongin to use a dance he had been practicing for years, yet as Taemin watched through the screen of the camera, he noticed this dance was unfamiliar. He broke his mesmerized gaze only to fix it on the actual Jongin instead of the screen.

Though the dance was short, the intricacy and detail in every movement overruled any time constraints. His expression remained focused, while his eyes occasionally followed the wings of his fingers and the dominance of his foot work. He performed a certain bend with his back to emphasize his pelvis, cringed terribly, yet still managed to pull it off. Taemin cringed as well, yet tried to disguise the heartache he felt each time Jongin hurt himself further.

As Jongin finished, he placed his hands to his knees and panted in a slow rhythm. Taemin continued to stare, and searched for his speech which was now floating around the abyss of things he wished he could put into words. The angel of dance and perfection was now smiling and making his way over to the stunned camera man. Jongin placed his hands to Taemin’s cheeks and kissed him slowly, before thanking Taemin for recording him. Taemin finally found his voice.

“You amaze me in new ways every single day.”

“Please, Tae. Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

He ruffled Taemin’s hair the way he used to, and made sure to that one strand of hair that’s silkier than the others. He then left Taemin to finish his book, while he strolled off to finish one out of many incomplete applications. Taemin thought it a little funny that Jongin believed he would be able to focus on the book, and he definitely made himself clear as he followed close behind Jongin to help with his college papers, despite the twinges of heartache. 

~~

Morning birds and morning sunlight happily illuminated the corners of Taemin’s room, escorting Taemin’s sleepy eyes open wide enough to groan and stretch. The phone on his bedside table flashed repeatedly, so Taemin rolled over onto his stomach which gave him just enough reach to grab it and pull it towards him. He smiled into his pillow as he read who the message was from:

“Jongin <3 ㅋㅋ.” Taemin’s smile faded as he read, however.

Hey, I’m gonna be away for a few days. I’ll tell you when I’m back. Don’t worry. And don’t overthink!

Taemin sat upright in his bed, his morning hair standing up in the complete opposite way it’s supposed to. He reread the message a few times before he could actually process what he was reading. “Don’t overthink…” Damn he knows me. Taemin furiously texted back, his mind loaded with questions while his message failed to reflect a fraction of his curiosity. After staring at his silent phone for minutes, waiting for a reply, Taemin gave up and decided maybe he did need to practice being apart from Jongin anyway.

Time passed exceptionally slow, though from the perspective of someone with patience, time passed linearly. A day had slipped away, and Taemin had to slap himself because of his longing for Jongin even after twenty-four hours. He attempted to watch the news to pass the time, though was quickly reminded why he never liked too. The blankets around him eventually covered his body along with memories of Jongin’s smile, and Taemin was now a cocoon of fluff and safety.

Days progressed into weeks. Jongin had not once replied to any of Taemin’s (around thirty) messages. Admittedly, Taemin was upset, though since he had no one to voice this too, he did not realize how worried and angry he became. The subconscious driving emotions took ahold of his instincts, and before Taemin processed his thoughts, he had thrown on the nearest pair of jeans and was out the door. Because it was Thursday, his mother was away at her unworthy job which she transported to by bus. Therefore, the family Honda sat untouched in the driveway. Taemin wasn’t sure what he was doing or what he intended to do, but he did know he was slowly growing insane locked in his house with only his taunting thoughts and loneliness.

The summer air seemed much more pleasant with Jongin. Taemin squinted his eyes through the sunlight as he drove down an overly familiar road. He may have just happened to make a few significant turns and may have just accidentally happened to stumble upon the road to Jongin’s house. Either way, he was within a few miles radius, so he decided to just casually drive by. As he neared his second home, the glimmer of Jongin’s car reflected in the sunlight. Wait, what? He drove further, and found most of the lights to be on inside Jongin’s house. There was definitely someone home.

He slammed the car door a little harder than necessary and stormed to the front porch, ignoring the “wome” mat and removing any feelings of intrusion. His hands trembled as he knocked a little too harshly on the door. Refusing to budge until he received some sort acknowledgement, he stood firm to the ground and waited. Eventually, the door knob slowly turned.

The opened door revealed a very pale, shaggy haired, expressionless Jongin.

Taemin was absolutely wide eyed and speechless.

“The , Jongin?”

Jongin opened the door entirely, allowing Taemin inside while still keeping a solemn, silent, and blank demeanor. Taemin instantly invited himself inside, too enveloped in now a realization of rage and confusion to care.

“You’ve been here the whole time?!”

“No, I was—.”

“Why didn’t you at least respond once? Where did you go? Why didn’t you let me know you were okay?!” Taemin’s voice slowly rose as the built up worry released itself.

“Taemin, I—.”

“You said a few days, and it’s been two weeks. What the hell? What—.”

Jongin sighed and placed his hands inside his pockets, his eyebrows furrowed, and his face contorted into tolerance, patience, annoyance, and a twinge of sorrow. This mixture of a newly found expression was enough to halt Taemin dead in his speech, as Jongin began to finally speak. His voice cracked, though it was soft already.

“Do you remember that guy I was talking about before? Kyungsoo?”

“Yeah, why?”

Jongin looked away briefly and gulped before turning his attention back to Taemin. “He passed away two weeks ago in a car accident.”

And the silence between them could have brought peace to the world. Taemin froze extensively, and every negative emotion sunk down a river of pain and disbelief. Jongin continued hesitantly after a few, very long, seconds.

“That’s where I was for the first few days… I was at his funeral. I would have told you I was back but I wasn’t able to see anyone for a while. I couldn’t really leave my bed, I mean, he was my best friend.” Taemin swallowed his secondhand traumatization and heartache to put forth all of his energy into soaking up every word of Jongin as he continued. “…I feel as if… I have to become a dancer now, truly; I have to get accepted into that school for him. I have to succeed; I have to pursue this dream for myself but mostly for Kyungsoo.”

Jongin continued to look away, avoiding eye contact with Taemin. The image of Jongin, a heartbroken angel with the purest intentions, undividedly tore at Taemin’s regret and desire to transport the pain to someone deserving of it. The reality and determination of Jongin’s words was no less than touching, yet on a level a little more intense then understanding and sympathy. Taemin swallowed the lump in his throat and decided he was going to do anything and everything he could to prevent any more suffering for Jongin; for as long as he lived. He took Jongin’s hand into his, and made sure Jongin was looking at him before he spoke slowly and with the truest emphasis he could convey. Though it was probably the hardest thing Taemin has ever had to say, he meant it down to the breath.

“Don’t listen to any of my , okay? I can’t imagine what you’re going through, and there’s nothing I can say to make you feel okay. And that’s okay, because these things deserve to be mourned over. These things deserve grievance. No one deserves this sort of thing to happen, but it did happen, and all we can do now is give Kyunsoo the greatest love and the most beautiful memories as he sleeps. I am so sorry… but that’s not even close to how horrible I feel that this had to happen to Kyungsoo; to you. I want you to know that I will always be here for you. Anywhere, anytime: I will do anything you need me to do. And please, don’t hesitate to tell me if there’s even the slightest thing I could possibly do. You are not alone through this; I will walk with you through hell if it means we’ll come out alright.  If you want me to leave you alone for a while, or as long as you need, then I more than understand. I also want you to know that I love you and no matter what you decide, I will support you endlessly and I will help you as much as I can so you can achieve your dreams. You are Kim Jongin, the greatest dancer in all of Korea, and I have NO doubts you will succeed and make Kyungsoo the proudest man in the world. And me too, actually.”

Jongin stared at Taemin, his hand still trapped between two warm ones, sending the purest love through his veins. The breeze from a nearby window blew his bangs gently, and it whispered a certain solemnity.

Jongin quietly yet quickly wrapped his arms around Taemin’s back, while Taemin responded by wrapping his own arms around Jongin’s neck, burying his face into Jongin’s shoulder. The quick embrace was so urgent, they rocked for a while before settling, and minutes passed. Taemin closed his eyes, and held on tightly, enforcing the pain of his heart through the strength of his hug. Jongin finally spoke, though his voice was weak and his grasp tightened as if this was the first hug he had had in years.

“I’m so lucky to have you.”

Taemin lifted his chin to make sure Jongin would be able to hear him.

“I’m so lucky to have you.”

Neither spoke, yet they each said a thousand words.

~~

Taemin had remained in his house for the following days after, thinking constantly, and sending his soul and comfort towards Jongin as if he could receive it. Jongin requested some time alone, and Taemin only wished Jongin occupied his time with learning to cope instead of growing into a deeper sorrow each day.

He sat on his bed crisscrossed and thought of the mortality and fragileness of everything, making sure to keep his phone by him at all times. As Taemin basically meditated, a faint buzz interrupted his thoughts. He looked down at his phone for the hundredth time that day, except this time someone was actually calling. Taemin’s heart leaped out of his skin as he frantically picked it up, dropped it from excitement as he saw who was calling, and picked it up again just as quickly.

“Jongin? Are you okay?”

“Do you remember when you said I could come over if I ever needed family love…?”

“Yes.”

“…Can I come over?”

Taemin melted.

“Yes of course you can!”

“Good.”

Just then, Taemin’s doorbell rang, yet it also reflected on the other end of the phone. And then he connected the dots.

“Oh my god, Jongin.”

“Hehe.”

The call disconnected, and Taemin basically sprinted down stairs to warn his mother who was now chopping onions that a friend was here. She yelled back in approval, and Taemin then slid in his socks to the front door at such a surprising speed. He yanked the door open, and sure enough, Jongin stood on his porch in the summer evening, tucking his phone into his back pocket. He smiled a little at Taemin’s flushed face and stepped inside, removing his Converses with his toes.

“Nice pants.”

Taemin looked down, and realized he was wearing his favorite sweats which vertically read the word “delicious” down the front. Taemin suddenly became very embarrassed, and the color of his cheeks proved so.

“Well you didn’t really give me much time to change!”

“No, don’t change. Your looks really y in them.

Taemin was now beaming and staring at his feet. “Aish, Jongin… my mom is in the other room.”

This did not change Jongin’s view of things, and in fact only brightened the situation as he sighed out a “ahh great!” and headed towards the direction of the wonderful and homely fragrance of homemade dinner. Besides the fact Jongin was actually inside Taemin’s house, something Taemin used to merely dream of, there was something radiating about the situation. Because Jongin was so obviously broken, the attempt made to spend time with Taemin was too precious. The attempt to act as though Jongin was not crying inside dearly kissed Taemin’s heart, so he played along just as well and wouldn’t dare bring anything up unless Jongin did first. Although, Taemin also figured he lacked the comfort and attention of his family to guide him through this patch of life, which truthfully depressed Taemin.

As he debated and pondered this further, Jongin had already turned the corner into the kitchen, and Taemin basically felt the lovely enthusiasm emanating from the room.

“Good evening, Mrs. Lee. I’m sorry to barge in on such short notice, I hope you don’t mind. Your house is very nice, I love the decoration!”

“Not at all, not at all! Are you staying for dinner? I hope you like kimchi dumplings. Taemin, you invited him to stay for dinner, right?”

Taemin was now resting his shoulder against the archway to the kitchen and watched as his beautiful boyfriend created a friendly relationship with his mother; as Jongin treated Taemin and his mother as though they were fragile angels

“Uhhh… Wanna stay for dinner?”

Jongin smiled for the first time in weeks. “Thank you very much, I’d love to.”

Conversation quickly and naturally escalated. Jongin volunteered to help marinate the kimchi with the onions and other various vegetables, and actually shared a few recipes he inherited from his family. Taemin’s mother listened intently and watched as he stirred and flipped the vegetables, reducing and enhancing the heat. She suddenly sparked an idea, and ran to the pantry on the other end of the house to add something to the kimchi with an “oooh, I’ll be right back!” Taemin and Jongin were left alone, with only the snaps and pops from the pan to fill the silence. Though they were used to being alone with each other, and had been almost every day for the past month, there was an unsaid strenuousness between the two. Taemin had absolutely no idea what to say, though he didn’t need to say anything anyway for Jongin rested his head in the nape of Taemin’s neck.

Butterflies instantly went at war with one another in Taemin’s stomach and heart. Jongin’s warm and steady breath blanketed Taemin’s racing heart, and he finally found the strength to speak. “H-how are you doing…?”

Jongin spoke into Taemin’s skin, and kissed his neck lightly along with kisses from his fluttering eyelashes. “Better when I’m with you.” Taemin was speechless, so Jongin continued. “I didn’t think I wanted to be around anyone, when really I just wanted to be around you, and only you. You’ve made me feel more welcome and more special than anyone ever has… and out of all the people that have apologized to me for my loss and rambled on for hours, no one has touched my heart except for you. You are so beautiful… I… thank you.”

Taemin fought back the current of endless tears and Jongin’s silky hair, quietly wishing he had something to say that was half as meaningful, or word the eruption of passion and longing in his heart. “I’m really glad you came here tonight… I think it’s so great that you’re trying and reaching out—.”

Jongin cut him off.

“I love you, Taemin.”

And then Taemin realized the seriousness of Jongin’s words, and he swore he heard a mumbled “so much” before Taemin’s mother walked in holding a bottle of some sauce and aged cheese. She didn’t see their embrace and went straight to the marinating pot, giving Jongin enough time to lift his head slowly, making sure to brush his lips against the edge of Taemin’s jaw. Taemin shuddered and wished for nothing more than to the have Jongin all to himself; to embrace him with comfort and kiss his pain away.

~~

The three of them sat around a tiny table in the dining room, Jongin mostly moving the kimchi around with his fork, attempting to take a bite, yet the heaviness of his heart rejected his energy. Taemin noticed that Jongin hadn’t eaten much, so he patted Jongin’s thigh under the table reassuringly and smiled softly as if to say “nobody is making you eat; just eat what you can.” Taemin’s mother also noticed Jongin’s slow movements, and piped up sincerely concerned and oblivious.

“Are you feeling okay, Jongin? What’s on your mind? It’s the food isn’t it? Ahh I’ve never been the best cook…”

Taemin eyed his mother and yelled with his gaze for her not to say anything.

Although she was oblivious and didn’t quite catch the hint from Taemin, she spoke up anyway, spearing her food harshly with the pointed chop sticks.

“Well if neither of you want to speak up then I hope it’s nothing too serious. You know, you’re a real special boy. Taemin talks about you a lot,” Taemin could’ve drowned away in his embarrassment, “and from what I’ve heard you’re a very genuine person and I can see that you are indeed. Though you probably don’t want to listen to an old lady tell you this, you should know you’ll always have a second home here, and we will welcome you in with—.”

“Mom…”

Jongin listened to Taemin’s mother continue to talk from the purest depths of her heart, and Taemin to give her the hint to tone it down. While they bickered, Jongin couldn’t help but smile widely and take a bite of the dumplings. Jongin was not used to this type of warmth. They both were fighting for the wellbeing of him, and that was more than enough, and that was exactly what he needed.

And that’s when Jongin became more certain than anything else: He had made the right choice to go there that night, he had made the right choice to choose Taemin, he had made the right choice to let Taemin into his world, and he had made the right choice to let himself fall in love.