Part VII (619 words)
Movie Night 2/2: The Text

The positive side of watching a movie he had seen so many times before was that Taemin did not have to pay attention at all, and Kibum was usually always too absorbed in the movie to pay much attention to what Taemin was doing anyway. After shooting a furtive glance at his best friend, Taemin slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, sliding his thumb over the lock screen to reveal his phonebook; he had been staring at it all week, and only one number in particular:

Lee Jinki.

‘I want to help you,’ Jinki had said before Taemin left, ‘but I’ll understand if you don’t come back.’

Taemin’s hands trembled as he pressed the contact name, Jinki’s number and basic information appearing on the screen. He pressed the message icon, holding his breath when the keyboard appeared and the text cursor started blinking above it in the small white box.

Hesitating for a few seconds, he finally started typing.

I would like to schedule another appointment.

He shook his head, erasing the words completely. It was too formal, too stiff.

Can we meet? I would like to talk to you again.

This time Taemin erased the words with fervor, ears turning red because of how eager he sounded. He was not going out on a date. He had to be professional but still casual.

Let’s talk.

Taemin deleted the words once more, dropping the phone onto his lap in frustration—he was not breaking up with the guy! Why could he not get this right?

His heart leaped out of his chest when his phone was snatched from his thighs, Kibum standing in front of him with a sly grin as he looked at the screen. “So it was a guy, wasn’t it?” he giggled, and Taemin jumped to his feet. “I was right!”

“Hyung, no!” Taemin gasped, reaching for the phone, but Kibum shook his head and stepped out of reach.

“I watched you try to ask him out three times already. Who knows how many times you’ve done this before? This has gone on far too long!” Kibum declared, and Taemin nearly screamed when the elder man started running, typing words into the message box—something embarrassing, no doubt.

“Please don’t do this!” Taemin cried chasing after him, angry and terrified with what Kibum could possibly text. “I’m not asking him out, he’s a therapist!”

Kibum did not respond, still typing even as Taemin chased him around the kitchen table and into his room. Finally the younger man tackled the elder, both collapsing on the floor of the bedroom. Kibum was sprawled out on his chest, Taemin’s arms wrapped around his legs as they struggled for a few seconds.

“Ha-ha!” Kibum finally laughed, proud as he held up the phone in triumph. “Sent! I accomplished in minutes what you couldn’t do for days!”

“Hyung!” Taemin whined, heart racing with anxiety. “Why did you do that?”

“Because I’m your best friend,” he responded, handing the younger back his phone. “And to teach you to pay attention the next time we watch Notting Hill.”

With a frustrated groan, Taemin rolled off the elder, collapsing onto his back as he snatched the cellphone from Kibum’s grip. The feline man stuck out his tongue with a mischievous grin, getting up and dusting himself off before going back into the living room to continue watching the movie.

Meanwhile, Taemin’s blood was pumping so hard he could feel the beat in his throat, hands shaking with nervousness as he looked at the message Kibum had sent:

I want to see you.

Taemin wanted to kill himself.

But then he got a reply that stopped his breathing:

Me too.