Hello beatiful people. I'm going to be out of town visiting my family so I won't be able to update for about 3 weeks. So please don't abandon me! ;A;

Taemin’s dreams don’t let him sleep, and his sleep doesn’t let him dream. The backlight of his phone seemed especially bright in the cold darkness of midnight. He dialed Jongin’s number from memory. Each ring sounded twice as short, and each silence in between sounded twice as long. No answer. He called again, waiting for something that he knew wouldn’t happen. No answer. His patience stayed on the phone long enough to leave a voice message.

“I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes closed and his breath finished out the message until it automatically ended. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold onto nothing.

Taemin and Jongin haven’t talked in weeks, basically a month. Naturally, overtime, the conversations become less and less. He figured it’s because Jongin was busy, but couldn’t he just talk for a few minutes? Is he really being pushed that badly? Is he so busy that he can’t talk to his scared less boyfriend for a few ing seconds? Taemin exhaled his anger and inhaled empathy and a shaky understanding he pulled from nowhere.

He wasn’t too worried at first, because love didn’t have to be reminded of when it’s constantly in the heart. It wasn't reassurance he wanted; it was knowledge that Jongin is happy, getting by, just anything. But as time went by, he couldn't help but bite his nails and tremor in his sleep. Either knowledge, or a pretty spectacular distraction.

Taemin didn’t tell anyone about that night. That night he slammed the phone onto the wooden floor, pulled the covers over his head and sobbed. But he didn’t just sob, he threw a pillow across his room which essentially broke something glass, but this was probably intended. He hoped his mother was a deep sleeper. The glass shattered to the floor and reflected the moonlight along with the message: I miss you.

He stood up, whining and crying, and punched a very slight dent in his wall. His head spun, and his knuckles were now threatening blood and perhaps a few fractures. He bit his lip to muffle his screams before whirling around to whip another pillow across the room. This one didn’t do any damage, and it annoyed him enough to break down onto the floor. He was now crying so hard that he made no noise at all.

He curled up, hugged his knees, and waited for his tantrum of anger and loneliness to subside. He knew how pathetic he looked, but honestly, Taemin was only concerned with pouring out the steel in his heart. The room fogged as he wondered what Jongin was doing at that moment, what Jongin had for breakfast, what Jongin was wearing, if Jongin had any clue as to how dysfunctional he made Taemin.

Slowly, his adrenaline calmed as Taemin finally held onto the piece of him that told him he was being ridiculous.

He wiped his eyes and scraped his bangs away from potentially interfering with his already blurred eyesight. The moonlight made him squint, but it also made him think. Was Jongin looking at that same moon? Why did his world have to revolve around Jongin, and why did he have to need Jongin that badly?

But how amazing, to have someone so incredible to miss.

~~

One afternoon, Taemin stopped at the local grocery store on his way home from school. He scanned his list as he browsed through the aisles: milk, eggs, cereal, and a warm hug. He crossed off the last one.

As he scanned the rows of cereal in search of his favorite, he spotted long black hair and a gorgeous face form the corner of his eye. Could she possibly be who Taemin thought she was? He slowly raised his vision and saw that the woman was indeed Jongin’s mother. She now wore reading glasses as she observed the nutrition facts on the side of the most health promising cereal box.

Taemin’s breath caught in his lungs as his stomach lurched. It was so nice to see her. A reminder his whole relationship hadn’t been a dream, and Jongin actually existed. But he quickly turned his head and tried to inconspicuously block his face with his hand. He was probably the last person she wanted to see, for Jongin had basically picked him over his own family, and plus Taemin probably overstayed his welcome at their house.

But she looked so much like Jongin. She even held herself with the exact same grace and pouted her lips just as Jongin did. He had the urge to brush her hair behind her ear and beg for stories of how she met Jongin’s father, how they fell in love, of Jongin as a child, and all of Jongin’s habits and secrets that only a mother knew.

It was an odd urge, he knew it was.  But he was lonely of Jongin, of tracing love on Jongin’s chest, of Jongin’s stupid jokes, of someone to remind him why to even bother waking up each day.

~~

Taemin walked down the hallway to his next class, quite content, surprisingly. He even whistled a bit, and for once thought of things unrelated to his long distance relationship; until he heard loud and heavy footsteps growing behind him. “Hey, Taemin, wait up!” Taemin turned his head slowly to see a red-faced Jonghyun sprinting towards him.

Taemin’s first reaction was a quick ‘oh ’ and an immediate desire not to hear whatever criticism Jonghyun had to say this time. Therefore, Taemin himself began to pick up the pace, maneuvering his way through large crowds of kids.

Jonghyun’s cry probably drew more attention than it should, “Yah, Taemin! Are you running away from me?”

Taemin began jogging, actually laughing to himself regarding the situation. He rounded a corner and hid behind the wall, hoping Jonghyun would take the opposite direction or get lost in their over-populated school.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Jonghyun, they were good friends. But sometimes Jonghyun was a little too honest and Taemin only wanted to be friends with liars for the time being; someone who will tell him only what he wanted to hear.

A few minutes went by with no sign of Jonghyun, so he sighed out relief and turned back around the corner to his original class.

But the instant he did so, Jonghyun stood in his path. Taemin frowned.

“How stupid do you think I am?” Jonghyun walked closer, panting and eventually resting his hands on his knees. His brown hair cut too short and his jeans too tight.

“Do you want me to answer that?”

Jonghyun ignored him. “Minho told me what happened.”

Taemin fidgeted with his backpack. Was it really necessary for Minho to tell anyone? Especially big mouthed Jonghyun. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Jonghyun ignored him again. “How the hell could you pass up that opportunity? Tae, how else do you think you’re gonna get over Jongin,” he held up his fists as though he had lost the most important game of his life, “it was such a golden opportunity, so perfect, and you blew it off.”

Taemin was actually surprised Jonghyun still had the nerve to talk about Jongin in front of him, or interfere with his decisions. “It’s none of your business. And besides,” he flipped his hair, “it’s not my fault everyone is turning gay for me.”

Jonghyun massaged the bridge of his noise and briefly questioned Taemin’s lack of perspective. “Minho feels like absolute , and he told me to apologize to you. He didn’t mean for you to get offended or hurt.” He voice trailed off as if to mention something more about stupid decisions and wasted love.

“Why can’t he just tell me himself?”

“Can’t you imagine how he feels? He’s really embarrassed.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Jonghyun rested his shoulder against a wall and crossed his arms. Taemin rubbed the back of his neck, and turned to walk away.

“Tell him he can my—”

“Yah, Taemin, seriously.”

Taemin eventually agreed to accept Minho’s apology, though this was mostly done just so Jonghyun would shut up. He still didn’t necessarily want to see Minho’s face for a while.

He also wondered why it was so hard for others to believe in his and Jongin’s relationship. As though what they shared could only exist in a fairy tale with an unreasonably convenient ending. As though the fact that Taemin could put his hand to his chest and feel Jongin’s presence and touch was all fictional and nothing like that could actually happen. Because love can’t continue when both are simply waiting and wishing on falling stars, telling themselves they’re only a moon away. No one would put up with that just for one person. Right?

~~

Weeks continued to unfold and stumble over each other. The pressure of college weighed downed on his already overweight heart. What did he want to do with his life? He hoped his future included living in a small house with Jongin and perhaps a dog. How lovely. But he would need a career to pay for that house, and that dog.

Tick.

The frustration of—to put it bluntly—life, along with the frustration of loneliness and I miss you’s put him in a mood relatively close to insanity, though with a scoop of cluelessness. It hurt even more because everyone around him seemed so damn calm.

Tock.

At this point, all Taemin wanted was a hug from anyone, some form of sympathy, and a flashing neon reminder that Jongin was just busy and in no way purposefully skipping the opportunities to soothe his distant lover. But Taemin knew better than to let that side get the better of him.

And suddenly, out of the blue, Jongin’s name flashed on Taemin’s phone around one in the morning and the sweet ring of hallelujah finally graced and halted Taemin’s breaking point. Finally, finally.

Taemin’s fingers were shaking so terribly that he dropped the phone and accidentally canceled the call. He cursed and immediately called back, eventually connecting through to the best part of his month. He slumped onto his bed and sprawled out his arms and legs with a smile facing the ceiling.

After a few minutes of catching up, controlled yelling, hidden screams of desire, and actually quite believable explanations, the mood completely shifted. There wasn’t much time to allow for a natural transition anyhow.

“How are you feeling, Taemin?”

“Mmm, me?” He dozed in and out of the lovely ring to Jongin’s voice, “Well right now, I feel perfect.”

“Yeah?” Jongin smiled satirically through the phone, “What if I was to hang up, how would you feel?”

Taemin thought for a moment. He would die, that’s how he would feel. But then a piece of him objected, the sanity in him that collected all of Jongin’s words, reminders, hugs, laughter, love. And he then knew the answer.

“If you were to hang up…” Taemin diligently watched the blades of his overhead fan chase each other. He didn’t know why he kept that fan; it barely produced any wind, “I’d still feel perfect. I trust us. We can’t escape eachother, because distance matters to the mind, not the heart. And Jongin, you have my heart. So just please take extra care of it for a while until... I can physically reclaim it. And I feel like… even though I’m not with you, our thoughts are together. People search their lives for what we have but never find anything close, did you know? I’d still feel perfect because when I talk to you, I feel like I’m standing on the highest peak of the mountain between us, and we’re just that much closer. Because I know that you love me, and I know that I love you. So much.”

Jongin smiled poetry. If only Taemin could see. “Taeminie, I wish I could fight all your battles. I will, I’ll fight for you. And don’t worry. I’d still never hang up. I’d never hang up… never hang up….”

And Taemin knew they were no longer talking about telephones.

~~

Life fades on, but Taemin didn’t really pay attention.

He may pass his tests, win his class the largest trophy, get the high score on Temple Run, but he didn’t actually feel pride or joy from these things anymore. It wasn’t that he was ungrateful, he was just numb.

Numb because he’s sitting in the front row of the school auditorium wearing a cap and gown. Graduating that damn school he will surely never miss. He hadn’t talked to Jongin since that night they stood atop the tallest mountain between them, somewhere around late December.

He sat with Jonhyun to his left and an empty seat to his right. He wished Jongin could be there to cheer him on…

Apparently, Taemin’s deep self-awareness and simple sadness was painted heavily on his face enough for Jonghyun to pipe up about his personal interpretation of Taemin’s mind. He was a strong advocate for ‘honesty is the best policy,’ so naturally, he became sociopathic for a few seconds and spoke up, though with good intentions.

“Taemin, I hate to say this, but, he probably has a girlfriend by now. I mean, even I think he’s good looking. I don’t think he’s gay, he’s probably biual. I mean, we used to talk about girls a lot during gym.”

Taemin’s eyes stared right through him. “He’s gay.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“I just know. Why do you care so much? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Jonghyun was quiet. It was his last day with Taemin after all, and although he was trying to help, it obviously wasn’t working. He really didn’t want to leave things with Taemin on a ty level and plus he really could tell how much Taemin was hurting. Guilt tainted his ever uplifting spirit.  

“I’m sorry I’ve been such an to you, Taemin. You don’t need it. I should’ve been there for you, really. I guess I’m just, well, jealous of you and Jongin’s relationship. As much as I hate to admit it.”

Taemin stared at him with round eyes and a kind of incredulousness that made even Jonghyun doubt himself.

“Jealous? You’re actually jealous of me? Why?”

Jonghyun fidgeted in his seat as though it was embarrassing to talk about his feelings or difficult to word exactly what he meant. “Well, it’s the way Jongin treated you like a prince. The way your eyes lit up when you’d see him, a big stupid smile on your face, and your cheeks would get red as hell. And then out of nowhere his cheeks started to get red too. He really cared for you. But what kind of upsets me is that you two never even fought, or had any normal teenage drama. You guys were frickin’ married...,” he rubbed his forehead and his eyes, “but I kept rebounding off of hundreds of different girls, and that whole time you just stayed completely happy with that one person. I just didn’t get it, and yeah, I was jealous that you had found someone like Jongin.”

If it wasn’t the last day of school, Taemin probably would’ve laughed but now that there was really no reason for Jonghyun to keep it in anymore, he almost felt guilty. “I think you’ve already found someone like that, if you’d just open your eyes a little more.”

“What?”

Taemin motioned his head to a quiet Kibum a few seats down, legs crossed and hands folded in his lap. Jonghyun froze and he looked to Taemin. “Taemin, I don’t like… I mean, I’m not…”

“Then don’t fall in love with him romantically. There are some people in this world we need, whether they’re a mother figure, a lover, or just a friend. And I think you’ve found that friend, a great one who will treat you as Jongin treated me.”

Jonghyun opened his mouth to speak, but was then called up to the stage to claim his diploma. They shared one last look before Jonghyun pretended to be excited and climb the stairs to the stage.

Taemin then took out his bulky video camera to record Jonghyun for the sake of highschool and for blackmail, but saw that there was already a tape inside. He pressed the play button to make sure he wouldn’t accidentally record over his three year old birthday or something. But there was no three year old Taemin. Instead, there was a seventeen year old beautiful boy.

A young looking Jongin with unkempt hair stood in the middle of a spacious room. Taemin recognized the event immediately as the physical part of Jongin’s college application. But why did he have the tape? Was he keeping a copy of the original for Jongin but just forgot to return it?

But none of that mattered now, because Jongin bowed, awkwardly mispronounced his name, and then laughed for about five minutes until he finally focused. Watching Jongin dance, and reliving his exact reactions as he had done before, squeezed his heart. Like Jongin was right there, dancing for him.

But nothing hurt more than the finish, when Jongin walked over until all that was left in the screen were a few tufts of his black hair. Taemin remembered that Jongin had kissed him. He rewound a few seconds and put the camera to his ear to hear over the loud room. Sure enough, a few quiet laughs and something that sounded like “you amaze me” followed by the distinctive sound of lips touching and pulling apart.

He wasn’t expecting it, but for some reason, it brought tears to his eyes. He didn’t remember his nose reddening or his vision blurring, all he knew was the tear that slid down his cheek and off his chin. He wiped it away and kept pressing rewind, until his finger finally hovered over the delete button.

For minutes his fingers hovered over that button. It stressed him out more than it should. He wanted to delete it; it would only torture him. He wanted to, he would, he was going to do it…

No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t throw it away. Just like he couldn’t throw away Jongin.  

He would keep hanging on. He wouldn’t let Jongin go. He stopped listening to whatever negative comments people had to say about them, because they didn’t know anything. Taemin was lost, and he needed Jongin to find him, just as Jongin had found him before.

Taemin kept waiting, for what, he didn’t know. But he was confident in love which has thus far blessed him with the absolute happiest year of his life.

He kept smiling for Jongin, just as he promised.

~~

~~

Jongin stared at the ceiling with one arm across his forehead and the other hanging lifeless off the hotel bed. His eyelids weighed down heavier than usual, but he was sure it wasn’t because of sleepiness. The noise of the city he was passing through shook the walls and vibrated under his skin. Because for that time being, he wasn’t in China, but instead traveling and performing small shows across Asia. His phone was currently dead, somewhere, not that he’d get service in the place he was staying in anyway.

He blinked and ran his tongue across his teeth. He hadn’t really had time to stop and think, actually think. He didn’t necessarily want to think, because he knew the first thing that would come to his mind was the million pound weight of guilt. And it did. He knew how unfair this whole situation has been for Taemin; he knew perfectly well how Taemin felt.

The cheap, wooden walls of the motel make the air thick with a rotting aura but Jongin barely noticed.

He knew Taemin would be telling himself over and over that everything’s okay, and it is, but he wished he could hold Taemin as close as possible and kiss it all away.  And although it had been awhile, he himself wasn’t worried about their bond breaking. It’s Taemin he was worried about. If Taemin could hang on just a little longer, if Taemin could just let go of his insecurity.

The reason Jongin wasn’t worried himself was because even though they had been apart, the butterflies in his stomach continued to multiply and the love in his heart kept burning a little brighter each day still. Still burning with an aftertaste of nostalgia and Taemin’s wonderful… everything.

And it was that fire in him still that gave him confidence, so he wore his love on his sleeve wherever he went.

His temporary roommate, Yixing, snored almost as loudly as the eighteen wheeler truck screeching along the outside bridge, but Jongin thought louder than both and his tainted mind muffled them out.

He knew that if he thought too much about Taemin, he’d cry. He always thought himself as one of those guys who comforts the crier instead of crying, but when he comes to unsaid apologies, Jongin just didn’t know how much longer he could put Taemin through another lonely second. Should he tell Taemin to find someone else temporarily? No. No. The indescribable stabbing in his heart told him that was an absolutely terrible idea and to never think of Taemin with anyone else ever again. Or was he being selfish?

He’s already cried once lying in bed after everyone had already gone to sleep. He figured that was the best time to do it anyway. He cried not because of their distance, but of how dearly he still hung onto Taemin. Because he traces Taemin’s silhouette with his fingertips, but opens his eyes to a deflated duvet. And because Taemin just can’t let his mind rest for more than thirty seconds.

That night, Jongin let his love spill from his eyes. But he knew there was nothing to cry about, not when he was sure, so confident. One day. One beautiful day.

He whispered to the night, “Taemin, I’ll fight for you.”