Work Text:
Danger-era, December 2014.
‘We really need to tell Jinki hyung.’
‘Tell me what?’
Taemin spun around from the coffee table, cheese straw dropping from his hand. ‘N-nothing, hyung.’ Jinki looked at him, bemusedly picking up his forgotten car keys from the breakfast bar, noticing as Taemin’s eyes grew wider and stared past him. He reacted, turning to look, quizzical and wholly unprepared to meet Kibum’s shocked eyes, tharn like a rabbit in the doorway of his bedroom. A blanket was draped over his head and earphones trailed from his ears, but all it did was accentuate his nakedness and the condom foil gripped between his teeth.
‘K-kibum…’ he trailed off, turning back to Taemin quickly, confusion written over his features like typescript. But there was no mirroring expression, just rapid blinks that flickered between panic and desperation, not adding up, not making sense, until he glanced again at Kibum.
‘Oh. You,’ he started, looking to Taemin as Kibum removed the foil from his mouth and pulled his earphones out. ‘You’re together?’ A slight twist of Taemin’s mouth confirmed it and he and Kibum both watched as Jinki’s confusion morphed into his signature polite smile. ‘Oh. Since when?’ Kibum began to answer, but Jinki’s eyes were for Taemin, needing to understand, needing to hear from him, first.
‘Since when, Taemin?’ he repeated. Taemin stared at him, opening his mouth and closing it, holding Jinki’s gaze as seconds slowly crept by. Finally, his lips moved again and he answered very quietly, the sound crystal clear in the silence of the flat.
‘2010.’
Taemin made to grab him, hold him, but Jinki was too fast. The front door clicked shut, understated, but as definite as the glimpse Taemin caught of Jinki’s eyes; wet, and surrendering to heartbreak.
And it was his fault.
***
It had grown dark outside, artificial lights illuminating the young man stood with his head leant forward, resting against the cooling metal of the door he waited in front of. His brown hair was untidy, highlights messed up, and his eyes looked puffy and tired, tear tracks still visible on his cheeks as though he’d stopped bothering to wipe them away.
A key turned in its lock and he straightened up, coming face to face with a pair of eyes widened in concern. He almost tripped in his haste to go inside and the shorter man steadied him, hip checking the door to swing it shut. They hugged, Jinki’s face scrunching and holding still to try and contain his tears. Jonghyun’s soft voice whispered to him over his calming breaths. ‘Hyung? Just cry, if you want to. Just cry.’ The words made him hiccup as he yielded to the tears, lowering his head to keep his face out of sight.
‘Jonghyun…’
The moan was so low it scared him; it was pained and loaded with hurt, more than he had ever heard it. He murmured back, gentle soothing sounds that made Jinki disintegrate further. Jonghyun guided them to the sofa, Jinki clinging to him, his gasps and tears gradually slowing to steady breaths matched by his blinking.
‘Better?’ Jonghyun asked, fingers busy rubbing pacifying circles on his shoulder. Jinki gave a subdued sort of shrug and fiddled with the cushion case next to him, glancing at him and opening his mouth as though to say something, but then closing it again. They sat in silence, until Jonghyun drew him closer and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
‘Do I lead us well?’ Jonghyun looked at him sharply. ‘I mean, as the leader of shinee.’ At Jonghyun’s nod, Jinki stared down at his own lap. He swallowed, hesitating, and then found his voice again, asking in a quiet broken manner that made Jonghyun ache; ‘a-and as a friend? How am I then?’ His voice wavered and Jonghyun felt the beginnings of his own tears threaten to spill.
‘You’re the best, hyung, the best.’ He looked imploringly at him, wanting to say more, but Jinki looked away again, face worn and quite blank. He thought they were all friends but what did he know, really? What else had he not understood? He thought he was Taemin’s as much as Taemin was his, that they were unequivocally true to each other, regardless of anyone and everyone else. He thought that time has proven that for them. His thoughts tumbled and collated, scattering as he fell asleep there, somewhere between knowing that Jonghyun knew and doubting his every perception of himself.
***
It was nearing the end of their holidays now, which was the only reason Jinki could get away with disappearing to his family home for a few days. He missed the company party, letting it circulate that he wanted to be with his parents this Christmas. No one questioned it, so he was left largely alone. The bulk of his mail was sent to the dorm, though a few things found him – an envelope addressed in Kibum’s hand that he slipped into his diary, unopened, and Minho’s neatly written card arriving by special post on Christmas eve just as he always liked to give them out. Inside the usual greeting was an added note; ‘Hyung are you okay? Why the sudden change of plan? Contact me when you can ~ I love you! Have a merry Christmas!’ The warmth he seemed to write with seeped into Jinki’s fingers and the thought of his concerned eyes and worried frown made him miss him; Minho, his solidity, his earnestness, his cajoling reprimands to spend more time with him…
Then he wondered if he knew too. His heart squeezed, but despite his anger and hurt he ached for them all, these boys who became his simply by their unerring presence, their banter, their habits, their idiosyncrasies becoming more a part of his life than he had ever cared to scrutinise. He left messages on their group chat when he was sure Jonghyun was asleep, intimating that he was busy and that he hoped they were well and that he’d be back soon, ignoring the deluge of replies afterwards. He immersed himself in chores, but every time he picked up his phone to share anything, he would remember, and the frightening overwhelment of being set adrift by a friendship he had counted on drowned him. He wondered what he’d done, which side of him had made Taemin unable to confide in him and he wondered if everyone felt like that; that he wasn’t worth keeping close, that he was dispensable. But mostly he wondered how Taemin was, and then became angry and frustrated at himself for caring when Taemin obviously didn’t, and his internalised bitterness blocked any constructive thoughts and made him ignore the Christmas texts Taemin sent, which had been growing increasingly desperate until they just stopped.
He missed him. More than anything, he missed him, but he couldn’t get past his hurt; that Taemin hadn’t shared something so important, that he didn’t think Jinki was trustworthy enough to know where his heart lay. He wondered how hard it must have been to keep it a secret, if it was hard, if it had even mattered to Taemin and he felt bruised and battered and angry, at him, at himself, feeling that it was his own ego keeping him from talking to his friend or giving him a chance to explain, because then what would he find out? That Taemin didn’t need him at all?
One evening in the lull after dinner, he tried straightening his thoughts out with his parents, hoping that talking might help and knowing that they wanted to know why he was at home; that they wouldn’t ask. So he talked, watching their faces for any clues, any answer that he had missed, that had been so obvious to everyone but himself.
‘You always need to know the whole story Jinki, before you make any decisions,’ his dad had quietly advised. ‘There’s always a lot more happening with people than what you see and sometimes they just don’t find ways to say what they want to, even when it’s important, probably because it’s so important. Don’t blame yourself; I don’t think it was your fault.’ And his mum had smiled and petted his hair, smoothing it back down, before voicing what she thought.
‘Relationships don’t have to be like that. They might not need you Jinki, but perhaps they just want you.’
***
‘Replacing them with CHOCOLATE STICKS won’t help Ma!’ Jinki called behind him, smiling as he took their empty dinner plates back to the kitchen. It was a few days later, and they’d settled into their daily routine, his parents even joining in with the apparent latest trend of helpfully suggesting smoking alternatives to him.
After his surgery, he’d noticed strategically placed items around the dorm and had ignored them, even ignoring the ash trays disappearing for a while (he ended up using saucers which had magically conjured them back), until he woke one morning with a pile of colourfully wrapped presents on his bedside table, Kibum’s funky writing noticeable on every one. Jinki had opened them, wondering at the effort, and was examining what would have been a very medical-looking nicotine patch had it not been for the gundam logo on the outside, when Taemin’s head popped around the door.
‘Oh, you found them. Good morning, Kibum hyung’s gone out but he made me promise to make you try something, so…’ Jinki shrugged and tugged open the gundam patch.
‘This one is actually pretty cool.’
‘Knew you’d like it.’ Taemin grinned as he pulled out a half empty pack of cigarettes and walked over to the window. ‘What?’ he had asked after he lit up, knowing exactly what.
‘So traitorous,’ Jinki grumbled, but they’d gone through the rest of the unwrapping together, laughing at the multitude of stick candy and pens and other cylindrical objects that had uncanny resemblances to other things.
Jinki snorted at the memory as he walked out of the kitchen, familiar aching want beginning again until he was brought up short.
Taemin was right there.
He blinked but the image didn’t fade and the boy was actually standing in his passageway, shoes off but stage clothes on, a strange hunger on his pale face. They stared at each other and it was like they were back in Kibum’s flat and it was all new, all fresh, and Jinki could feel himself distancing and shutting down despite the immediate tears in his eyes. Taemin’s eyebrows drew together and he dropped his eyes, opening his mouth to draw in a deep breath before his lips closed in a tight line, but despite his efforts the tears leaked down his cheeks, his fingers coming up to rub them off, and Jinki saw just how tired he was. Before he could think, before Jinki could consider what he’d say, a desperate apology slipped out of his mouth, because Taemin was crying – crying – because of him. It didn’t staunch the tears at all, and Taemin huffed a gasp, a sad bitter smile on his lips, as he met Jinki’s gaze again. ‘No, I am. I’m sorry,’ he said, eyelids quivering as though he couldn’t bear to look at him. Jinki felt his own mouth twist unhappily, a question falling from his mouth like a dead weight.
‘Why?’
Taemin took a huge breath, a tremble caught in the middle, his eyes skittering repeatedly from Jinki’s gaze to his own fidgeting fingers. He swallowed, twisting his middle uncomfortably, a couple more tears leaking out.
‘I’m sorry. So so sorry hyung,’ he murmured, quietly, seriously. Jinki felt himself relenting (how could he not?) and he reached out to take Taemin’s wrists in his hands, tugging him forward, until he could hook his chin over his shoulder. Jinki sighed, his gust of breath doing nothing to move Taemin’s stage treated hair.
‘I’m still so angry with you.’
Taemin drew away and nodded, jaw tight. ‘I’ll explain.’ He paused, his nervousness once again sending his gaze skittering. Jinki waited, still holding his wrists, noticing again how exhausted and unwell Taemin looked, far beyond his stage concept. His eyes traced down the sad lines of Taemin’s mouth before lifting and taking in the sore skin around his bloodshot eyes and he noted how wearily he held his shoulders, even as he took another deep breath.
‘I wanted to tell you-’
‘I wish you had. Why didn’t you? Wasn’t I worthy of that?’ The words spilt from Jinki’s mouth before he could stop himself. ‘I would only have loved you more, nothing else, so why did you…?’ Jinki trailed off and looked down at their hands. ‘I just thought,’ he continued quietly, as Taemin’s hand turned to grip his, ‘that I was your best friend. That’s all.’
‘You are. You are my best friend. You’re – truly - the most precious person to me,’ he whispered, and Jinki drew in his breath as the unspoken hung in the air. Taemin bit his lip. ‘Even Kibum hyung knows,’ and now that it was out, now that his name had finally been brought up, Jinki looked at him steadily, waiting for whatever Taemin had to say.
‘He wanted to tell you straight away, back then. You know what he’s like, he needs to tell people. But I said not yet. I wanted to tell Taesun first.’ The words left his mouth in a rush, tripping in his haste to get them out. He sighed and let go of Jinki’s hands, settling on the floor in front of him. ‘Well that was a shit fest. You know how it is with Taesun and me; that’s why. I told him that day that I was gay and he didn’t like it. I hadn’t even bought up Kibum yet and he was saying such fucking mean things, and I was so mad and angry. I missed him so much, but that’s all he had to say? “It’s the devil’s work, you better not indulge in it.” Why the fuck would you say that to your little brother? ’ He sighed again, looking bitter.
‘I didn’t want to tell you after that. I know it sounds stupid. I know that, hyung, I’m so sorry,’ he said, raising his eyes to meet Jinki’s. ‘But I couldn’t get it out of my mind, what if. What would I do? So I got used to keeping it a secret and it just became a habit, not telling, and Kibum, even, agreed.’ Jinki smiled a little at how the hyung had dropped off, wishing with a heavy heart that he had been allowed to see their relationship develop. ‘You weren’t blind,’ Taemin said quickly. ‘We were all so busy anyway and I was so so careful because I couldn’t not have you too. I panicked.’
Jinki nodded.
‘Okay.’
They sat silently for a moment, and Jinki reached habitually to fix Taemin’s hair. ‘Don’t you have a schedule to go to? We were watching the show.’
‘SHIT.’ Taemin twisted and shoved his shoes back on, leaping up. Jinki followed. ‘Oh god, I’m going to get in so much shit for this.’
‘Come by tomorrow,’ Jinki said quickly. ‘Hurry up now though, you don’t have much time.’
‘Yeah yeah yeah, tomorrow then.’ Taemin hurriedly undid the latch and the door crashed shut behind him, only for the doorbell to go a second later. Jinki opened the door.
‘Did you f-’
‘I’m gay. I have a boyfriend. I want you to know and I want you to meet him.’ Taemin looked intently at him, waiting.
‘Okay! GO, GO GO!’ Jinki yelled, laughing as he closed the door again, cutting off Taemin’s frustrated litany of curse words as he ran down the corridor.
***
Later, in the quiet of his bedroom, he remembered the letter from Kibum and slipped out of bed to retrieve it. He pulled out the contents, gasping as years’ worth of polaroids spilled out, each one dated with an explanation on the back. Most were of Taemin and Kibum, but some were of him and Taemin, pictures he didn’t know even existed. He unfolded the little page of note paper and read, feeling so sad for a past that didn’t have to happen, but as he neared the end, a laugh escaped him.
‘I think you will want these more than I need them. If you’re angry with me, that’s fine. I won’t expect anything else. I didn’t want to keep this hidden from you or anyone else, but I did it for him. Ask him why and you’ll see – he’s an idiot, but it’s not that he doesn’t love you, it’s just that he loves you too much. This shouldn’t have gotten so big, I shouldn’t have let it, but hyung, be gentle. He is your taemin after all.
(And mine~)
Kibum’