A/N: Finally finished!  Sorry about things like inconsistency in quality.  This fic was my baby, but there was like a six year gap when I didn't touch the fic at all, so...hah.  Um, maybe I'll do some editing on this someday and make it more solid.  But for now, I just wanted to share it.  I hope you enjoy. <3

As Minho and Taemin lay side by side simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s company, Taemin began to softly hum a tune.  Minho suddenly shifted his position, startling the younger boy, who abruptly ceased his humming.  “Hyung, you’re awake?”  He had assumed that Minho was sleeping.

“Don’t stop.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t stop,” Minho repeated.  “It was nice.”

Taemin started humming again, more loudly since he knew the other boy wasn’t asleep.  He made it about halfway through the tune before Minho stopped him.

“Your voice is nice.  Do you sing?” he asked.

“Um…”  Taemin scratched his head awkwardly.  “Yeah…but only in private.  I’ve never sung in front of anyone before.”

Minho frowned.  “Why not?”

“I just…”  Taemin bit his lip.  “I’m kinda self-conscious about it I guess,” he murmured.

The patient thought for a moment before asking quietly, “Could I have the honor of being the first?”

Taemin hesitated.  “I don’t know.  I don’t sound that great…”

“I’m sure your voice is beautiful,” Minho assured.

“But what if-”

“Even if it’s not,” he interrupted, “I’d love to hear it.  Please?”

Taemin sighed.  He could see that his protests were getting nowhere.  It was no use trying to avoid it, because in the end Minho would always get what he wanted.  Taemin’s heart was weak to the older boy’s pleas.  He couldn’t stand against him long before he gave in.

“What should I sing?”

Minho smiled triumphantly at the discovery that he had won.  “Anything…something you know well.  Something you enjoy singing.”

There was a long silence as Taemin considered his options.  The first few that came to mind were rather sad ballads, and he loved singing them, but he wanted to sing something happier for Minho.  He wanted to sing something that wouldn’t make it even more difficult for the patient to remain as cheerful as he always was.  He finally decided on a song and cleared his throat, tapped his foot a few times, and then began humming the tune.  Soon he opened his mouth to release the words.

“I know an interesting experiment,” he sang.  “If you put a few drops of soap into a cup, the divided oil and water that had their back to each other mix as one.  This is so much like us.  We fight like we will never see each other again, and then become mixed in the soap called love.  Suddenly all the animosity disappears.”

A smile graced Taemin’s lips during the short pause between the first verse and the chorus.  “We fight a hundred times, and our hearts break a hundred times, but like tangled pieces of string, our love can’t be pulled apart.  We fix our faults, learn each other’s hearts…I know that one day, only our happiness will be left.”

He took a quick breath and gazed out the window as he continued, embarrassed to look straight at Minho while he was singing, even if the other one couldn’t see him.  “I’ll try to say the awkward words of love: I love you, I love you.  Even on days when I’m tired, I’ll hide my tired expression just for you.  In my daily diaries there is nothing but talks of you.  We will show each other once in a while.  It would be nice if we were happy.”

Taemin closed his eyes and lost himself in the wonderful experience of singing, letting out his bottled up emotions through his voice as he dove into the chorus again.  “We fight a hundred times, and our hearts break a hundred times, but like tangled pieces of string, our love can’t be pulled apart.  We fix our faults, learn each other’s hearts…I know that one day, only our happiness will be left.”

He paused awkwardly.  He wondered if he should continue.  The next part was the rap part, which he wasn’t too good at.  He always tried it when he was alone, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to attempt it while he had company.  Rapping was one talent which Taemin definitely did not possess; it was naturally difficult for him to do.  Much to his surprise, as well as his immense relief, Minho’s voice reached his ears, carrying the words with which he had been hesitant to proceed.

“At first we couldn’t meet, but it’s so different now.  Still you don’t know how much I want to keep on meeting you.  You keep me alive so that I can feel you.  Even though we are so different, our love will stay the same.”

Taemin glanced up at Minho and stared in awe as he witnessed the unexpected display of talent.  Firstly, he was surprised at the discovery that Minho also knew the song which he was singing.  Secondly, and more importantly, he was startled by the talent that the older boy possessed.  His voice was strong, deep, and confident, completely lacking the hesitation which would instantly ruin an attempt at rapping.  Realizing his mouth was opened slightly, Taemin shut it along with his eyes, letting himself revel in the calming feeling as Minho’s voice surrounded him.  He smiled.  He has such skill, he sounds like he should be in a band.  And his voice…aigoo, his voice, Taemin thought as he nearly melted from the sound.  It was amazing.  He felt as if he could listen to it all day and never grow tired of hearing it.

“I don’t want a love that will evaporate away like soap bubbles.  A love that will be felt without words, that is the love that I want.  When you are with me, you can’t ride in golden carriages even in your dreams, but while you are still with me, I can make you smile.”

Caught up in the moment and the feeling of the song, Taemin joined in once again, picking up the song’s longest note.  “Love’s way, hooh, love’s way, ohooh~”

“You’re my true love~!”  As Minho held that note, Taemin was surprised yet again to find that not only could the older boy rap, he could sing as well!  Although he had to modify the line a bit to fit in his vocal range, he nonetheless sounded wonderful to Taemin, whose ears were quite pleased by the sound of Minho’s singing voice.

“Though our hobbies are different,” Taemin continued, “and our thoughts are different, our habits have become similar…”

“And even the times that we fall asleep after we talk at night...”

“…have become the same.”

As the two voices harmonized at the end of the song, Taemin felt that the world was perfect right at that moment.  Everything was exactly as it should have been.  Nothing was amiss, nothing was impure, and nothing was evil.  If that moment could have lasted for a lifetime, Taemin would never have the capacity to feel any emotions other than pure joy and love.  Everything was peaceful, everything was right…everything felt simply perfect.  And as he slowly opened his eyes and was met with the sight of Minho’s smiling lips, his heart was filled with a feeling that he had never felt so intensely before.  His heart felt as if it was going to burst out of his chest.  It was an immensely powerful feeling, so overwhelming that he had to sit down on the bed again for support, afraid that he might fall over if he remained standing.

“Taemin, your voice is beautiful,” Minho said quietly.  Taemin’s heart pounded in his chest at an irregular pace, and his breathing became labored.  “You sound like an angel.”

“I-I…” Taemin stuttered awkwardly.  He felt suddenly shy and self-conscious, and yet he was still just as comfortable as ever.  In fact, he found himself with the nearly irresistible urge to hug Minho.  Since he was afraid Minho might feel or hear his increased pulse, he strained to keep his distance.

“You have a truly angelic voice,” the older boy whispered, the corners of his mouth turned up into a content smile.

“Thanks,” Taemin managed to breathe out, chewing on his lower lip.

Without warning, Minho reached a hand out and touched Taemin’s face.  The younger boy’s breath caught in his throat.  He closed his eyes.  Minho’s hand gently brushed against Taemin’s cheek.  His thumb ran across his nose, and his fingertips traced a path over the smooth skin and located his forehead.  Then Minho leaned forward and softly placed his lips against Taemin’s brow.  He pulled back and smiled.

Taemin’s eyes flew open and he stared at Minho in surprise, rendered utterly speechless.  Despite his physical silence, a million thoughts were flying around inside his head, bouncing off of each other and buzzing in his ears.  A million voices were trying to tell him a million different things in a million different ways, but it all boiled down to one key point, and Taemin couldn’t deny it anymore.  He couldn’t feign ignorance even if he wished to.

When Taemin left the hospital that day, he had established one thing of which he was absolutely certain.  He was in love with Choi Minho.

The doctor recommended another surgery.  It was experimental, a new kind of laser surgery, and it was riskier than the standard vision-correction surgeries.  If there were complications during the surgery, it could set them back in their treatments, possibly even rendering a cure impossible and making him permanently blind.  But the treatments they had tried so far had hardly made a dent in Minho’s sight, and every effect had been temporary.  They were at the ends of their ropes.

Minho’s parents came in to sign the necessary paperwork once he had given his verbal consent.  They had him take off the blindfold briefly to give his sloppy signature on the required lines.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” his mother asked again.  “If it doesn’t go well…”

Minho squeezed her hand.  She knew how terrifying this was for him.  Going blind had been one of his biggest fears since childhood.  One of the things that had gotten him through this was the hope that it was all temporary, and his sight would come back eventually once they got rid of the illness.

“I don’t want to go blind,” he told her, trying to keep his voice from shaking.  “But I’m tired of the hospital.  I’ve thought about this…a lot.”  He forced a smile, knowing it would reassure her that he was serious.  “I would rather be blind and be able to live normally for the most part.  At this point I’ll just be happy if we can cure the illness.”

“Are you sure you’re-”

“I’m ready.”  He thought of Taemin, his soft voice and his warm hands, and how worried he’d be for him.  His heart sank at the realization he’d have to tell Taemin about this tomorrow.  But at the same time, his smile started to feel more genuine.  “I’ll be alright, because I have an angel watching out for me.”

Taemin felt like he should have been more nervous, or maybe felt guiltier for this.  After all, he was about to break up with his girlfriend after only a few months, and he hadn’t properly devoted much attention to her as her boyfriend.  Not since her appendicitis led him to meet Minho in the hospital.  But instead of feeling nervous, he felt more certain than he had in weeks.  He knew he was doing the right thing.  Now that he knew his feelings for Minho, it wouldn’t be right or fair to drag this out with his girlfriend; the longer he waited, the more likely she was to get hurt.

“Jihee,” he said, setting down his now empty lunch box.  He had at least wanted to wait until they finished eating, just in case the conversation ruined her appetite.

His girlfriend looked up abruptly.  “What’s wrong?” she asked.  Apparently the use of her real name didn’t escape her notice.  He usually called her “jagiya,” but it didn’t feel right to say that anymore.  It was refreshing to finally use her name again.

Taemin had this grand speech planned out leading up to his reveal, maybe to soften it and maybe to justify it, he wasn’t sure.  But when their eyes met, he just blurted out, “I think I’m gay.”

They stared at each other blankly for what felt like a whole minute before Jihee lost it and snorted, her lips curving into a weird smile.  “What?  It’s not April, Tae.”  When he didn’t say anything and he clearly wasn’t finding it funny, her smile fell.  “It’s not a joke.”  It wasn’t a question.

Taemin nodded.

Jihee looked down and stared at her last bite of kimbap.

“I’m-”

Jihee held a hand up to stop him.  “If you’re gonna apologize, don’t.  I assume this means we’re breaking up.”

Taemin nodded.  “I’m s-”

She stuffed the last kimbap in Taemin’s mouth to silence him again.  “I said don’t.”  She stood up, gathering her things.  “Are you apologizing for being gay, or are you apologizing for dumping me?  If it’s the first, don’t apologize to anyone for that , like it’s something to be sorry for.”  She slung her bag over her shoulder and looked him in the eye.  Surprisingly, she didn’t seem that upset.  “If it’s the second, save it; that’s so uncool on my part.  Let me walk away with dignity at least.”

Without another word, she left, Taemin watching her back until it disappeared around the corner.  He chewed the kimbap.  It tasted bitter.

“Could have gone better.  Could have gone worse.”

As he was leaving school that day, he received a text from Jihee.  It read: “Good luck with your hyung.”

Taemin smiled.  That actress.  She already knew.

He rushed to the hospital that day with a grin on his face that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

It wasn’t until they were lying side by side on the bed, practically cuddling, that Minho finally told him.  He was running his fingers softly through the younger’s hair when he casually let it slip.

“I’m getting surgery next week.”

Taemin sat up, Minho’s hand falling by his side.  The hand searched for Taemin’s and gave it a squeeze.

“It’s the last one.  If this one doesn’t work, there’s nothing left to try.”

He’d initially wanted to sound brave, but his voice cracked toward the end.  Taemin squeezed his hand back and he realized he didn’t need to be brave.  Something about Taemin’s presence was comforting enough, making him want to be completely honest.  It was okay if Taemin saw him break down.  It was okay to let him know.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, practically whispering.

Taemin laid down again, this time wrapping his arms around Minho and nestling his head in the crook of the older boy’s neck.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

Minho thought about it, and then shook his head.  “I don’t think I do.”  This was enough.  He could tell from Taemin’s warm embrace that his friend cared.  There wasn’t much else to say.

They lay there for a long time in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company and warmth.  Their breaths eventually became even, their heartbeats all but synchronized.  Finally, Taemin whispered, “Whatever happens, I’m here for you.  I promise.”

Minho thought he could feel Taemin’s feathery wings enveloping him as he drifted off to sleep.

As the day of the surgery came closer, Taemin spent more and more time with Minho, who insisted that if he was going to waste time keeping him company then he had to at least bring his homework to the hospital with him.  He’d found out Taemin’s grades had dropped lately, and he wasn’t going to be the excuse for them to get worse.

“It’s not really that bad,” Taemin complained.  “I’m still passing.”

“You’re graduating soon, right?” Minho said.  “If you want to get into a decent college, you need to do a little better than just passing.”

Taemin groaned.  “But I hate studying.”

Minho laughed.  “Well nobody likes it exactly.”  He heard Taemin grumble something he couldn’t quite make out.  He wished he could see what cute face he was probably making.  “Want me to help you?”

And thus one more excuse existed for spending more time together.  When Taemin wasn’t studying, they would chat about just about anything they could think of.  Minho wanted to know more about Taemin’s life and friends at school.  Taemin wanted to know more about Minho’s family and his dreams and aspirations.  Minho wanted to know Taemin’s favorite foods and if he had any pets.  Taemin wanted to know Minho’s favorite movies and shows.  Minho refused to answer this one, but he promised that once his eyesight came back, he would watch them all over again with Taemin.

If his eyesight came back, he wanted to say.  But he didn’t say it, because he wanted to be hopeful.  He didn’t want Taemin to worry about him.  Minho had come to realize that even if he lost his eyesight forever, he would be okay.  If he could have this much fun here with Taemin even without his eyes, then there was no reason that couldn’t continue outside the hospital.  Taemin had promised him that he would stay by his side.  Minho would trust him.

The day of the surgery, Taemin finally met Minho’s parents.  They had always come to visit at a time when Taemin was busy, but since this was the most important day for Minho, they had both taken the day off work to spend it here with him.

“Thank you for helping us look after him all this time,” Minho’s mother said.  “He’s told us so much about you.”

“Practically wouldn’t stop talking, actually,” his father said.

Taemin laughed.  Minho groaned in embarrassment and threw his pillow toward the general group.  No one knew who he was aiming for, but he missed.

They wanted to talk to him separately, so the three left Minho’s room and went to a café downstairs.  It was going to be a long day and they could all use the caffeine anyway.  The Chois paid for Taemin’s drink.

“We wanted to really thank you properly,” Mrs. Choi said.  “But we also wanted to talk to you about something.”

The tone of the conversation had become serious, and it was making Taemin nervous.  He nodded for them to go ahead.  “Anything.  What is it?”

“It’s about the surgery,” she said.  “I don’t know how much Minho has told you about it.  But it’s still an experimental treatment, and there’s no guarantee it will work.  There are decent chances, and we’re trying to hope for the best, but…”

Mr. Choi took over.  “What she’s trying to say is, if the surgery doesn’t work, he may be blind forever.  We know you two have become close, and we just wanted you to be prepared for that.”

Taemin winced as he burned his tongue on his coffee.  “I understand.”

Minho’s parents looked at each other.  There was something else.

“If that happens…”  Mrs. Choi trailed off, looking at the hands she was wringing nervously.

So that’s what they were worried about.  “It’s okay.  I’m not going anywhere,” Taemin said.

They both looked visibly relieved, especially Minho’s mother.  “I’m sorry,” she said.  “It feels strange to be even talking about this.  But Minho’s other friends don’t know about any of this.  He wouldn’t let us tell them.  So I was afraid they might not be the most supportive, or that he might not even go to them if he needs support…”  She trailed off again, but Taemin got the point.

“It’s alright, Mrs. Choi.  I’ve already promised Minho, and he’s stuck with me.  He’s never seen me from the beginning, so if he still can’t, that won’t change our friendship at all.”

Mr. Choi put a hand on Taemin’s shoulder firmly.  “Thank you, son.  You’re welcome at our house any time.”

Taemin smiled and thanked them.  He got up and headed back to Minho’s room, giving the couple some time with each other.

As he approached Minho’s room, he heard a rich melody through the door, carried by a familiar deep voice.  He didn’t recognize the song, but the tune was melancholy and the lyrics were about how slim hope could seem at times.  It was beautiful.  He stood outside the door listening, letting Minho finish the song.  It went straight to Taemin’s heart, making it ache strangely, and making Taemin scared about the surgery for the first time.  He clenched his fists.  Minho was being brave about this, so Taemin had to be strong for him, too.  If Minho was teetering on the edge between fear and hope, Taemin would do his best to help him hang on, not be the one to push him over that edge.

He pushed open the door and stepped inside.  Minho smiled.  Taemin picked up the pillow off the floor and threw it back at him.

“You punk, your voice is stupid good.  Duets and solos both.  As soon as you’re out of here, we’re going to karaoke.  Got it?”

Minho’s smile turned into a toothy grin, and the knots in Taemin’s stomach loosed.  “Roger that.”

They all had to sit through several more hours of Minho complaining about being hungry, since the nurses wouldn’t let him eat anything before the surgery.  They said it was policy.  Minho said it was stupid and just one little snack wouldn’t hurt, right?

Mrs. Choi promised she would make all Minho’s favorite foods for a whole week once he came home.  Mr. Choi said he’d sneak some frozen yogurt into the hospital as soon as Minho woke up from the anesthesia.  Taemin said they were both making Minho hungrier and they might as well be eating the smelliest noodles in front of him for all the good they were doing.  They joked around like that for hours, just enjoying each other’s company, and mostly trying to distract Minho from thoughts of the surgery.

Finally, it was time, and they were all forced to go to a waiting room.  They each left Minho a kiss on the forehead – even Taemin, which made Minho laugh.  As they were about to leave, Minho called after them.  “Tae!  As soon as I’m out, I have to tell you something!  Got it?”

Taemin grinned as butterflies took up residence in his stomach.  “Roger that!”

The surgery was a success, as far as they could tell.  Whether he had a relapse of the illness further down the road, no one could predict, but at least for now all traces of it were gone.  He would probably be stuck wearing glasses for a while; time would tell how much his eyesight would improve.  Minho thought that glasses were much better than not being able to see at all.  He’d take what he could get.

After a few days, he was allowed to take the blindfold off, and he had to wear heavy sunglasses for several more.  It would be a few weeks before he could expose his eyes to anything as bright as sunlight, and he was told to use his phone very sparingly for a while on the dimmest setting.  He still opted for calling rather than texting, especially if it was Taemin; he’d rather hear his friend’s voice anyway.

For the time being, he was confined to his house.  True to his word, his father had snuck frozen yogurt into the hospital.  Minho figured the nurses had just turned a blind eye, sort of like a parting favor for the boy who had spent nearly two months in their care.  And just as promised, as soon as he was back home, his mother set about making all his favorite dishes.  He had a hunch she wouldn’t last the whole week, and they’d end up with takeout by Friday, but he felt loved nonetheless.  It was good to be home.

Minho finally told his friends.  They were angry at him, just like Taemin told him they’d be.  Something about friends not keeping secrets from friends, no matter whose sake you pretend it’s for.  They all insisted on coming over to his house and crashing there for two days; his mother kicked them out on the third morning because she was tired of cooking for everyone.  On the way out, they told him he’d better introduce his hospital friend to them soon or they’d make him regret it.

They were all talk, he knew.  But he’d introduce them soon enough anyway.  That is, if Taemin stuck to his promise and stayed his friend, even after what he was about to tell him.  His finger hovered over speed dial five and he took a deep breath.  The thought of it changing their relationship was scarier than the surgery, but he had to do it.  Taemin needed to know how he felt, and he had promised himself that as soon as he could make eye contact while doing it, he would confess.  The time had come.  He pressed the button.

“Tae.  When can you come hang out?  I still have to tell you that thing.”

The familiar, comforting voice he’d fallen in love with answered eagerly.  “I don’t have plans tomorrow!  Or tonight!  Or ever.  Is tonight good?”  Maybe too eagerly.  Minho chuckled.

“How long does it take you to get here?”

“Send me your address.”

Taemin was nervous.  He had no right to be, because they had built this friendship regardless of appearances.  But something about the boy he’d fallen in love with seeing his face for the first time was still giving him those crazy butterflies.  Maybe part of it was also anticipation for what Minho needed to tell him.  He’d thought about it for days, going over possibilities and trying not to build up specific hopes, but he couldn’t help it.  There were one or two things he’d much prefer Minho to be telling him.  Like asking him out, for instance.

If he was wrong, but the atmosphere was still right, maybe he’d ask Minho out himself.

Mrs. Choi and the distinct scent of Japanese curry greeted Taemin at the door.  She smiled.  “I wondered when you’d be coming by.  His other friends were here this morning.  Are you staying for dinner?”

“If it’s not a bother.  If Minho wants me to.”

Mrs. Choi laughed.  It was a pleasant sound that helped lift Taemin’s nervous spirits.  “Please don’t leave.  I made too much food and I don’t want leftovers.”  She ushered him upstairs toward Minho’s room.

He knocked gently before pushing the door open.  “Hyung?  It’s me.  Taemin.”

Minho looked up and their eyes met.  For a long moment, they both just stared.  Minho’s eyes were a deep brown that made Taemin feel all sorts of different things.  He felt known, like they could see past him to his very soul.  Maybe they could.  Maybe they didn’t need to, because Taemin had already shown it to him.  He felt warm, like Minho was embracing him with only his gaze.  He felt comforted and reassured, like no matter what happened, Minho would stay by his side too, just like Taemin had promised him.  And he felt those butterflies again.

Minho laughed, breaking the silence.  When Taemin made an offended face, Minho said, “I was right.  You’re an angel.”

“I’m not-”

“Tae.”  Minho walked across the room, closing the distance between them.  He looked like he wanted to take Taemin’s hand, but he stopped just before and stared at it instead.

“Hyu-”  He stopped himself, looking down at the hand barely an inch from his own.  Something about the honorific in this moment didn’t feel right.  “Minho.”

Minho was hesitating.  “It’s hard to say this, but I can’t wait any longer.  I’ve been dying to tell you for weeks.”

They both looked up.  When Taemin looked him in the eyes, he saw mirrored in them his exact feelings.  His worries had been unfounded after all.  Without even saying anything, he knew what Minho wanted to tell him.  He smiled, entwined their fingers, and nodded.

“Go ahead.”