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They lay there, tangled in a heap on the practice room floor, well after midnight, and the gym mat underneath them is uncomfortable, but Taemin doesn’t even care because he’d rather be here with Jongin than anywhere else in the world right now.
It’s dim and quiet, the only sound a faint rumble of early morning traffic, and the thump of Jongin’s heartbeat beneath Taemin’s ear as he rests his head on his chest. They’re both half asleep, delirious in the early hours, and Jongin lightly runs his fingers through Taemin’s hair.
“We should sleep.” Taemin says softly, his voice muffled by the material of Jongin’s shirt. He feels Jongin shift slightly.
“Mmm..” Jongin hums, and Taemin giggles, feeling the vibration of Jongin’s voice underneath where he lays. With his spare hand, Jongin reaches down and intertwines their fingers.
He brings them up to his lips and presses a light kiss to the skin there.
Taemin just nods—well—he nods as much as he can when he’s nestled so far into Jongin’s chest. He’s so warm, so comfortable, and Taemin finds himself absolutely melting into him.
As they lay there, Taemin reminisces on their pre-debut days, when they’d spend more nights than they’d like to admit asleep on the gym mats here. It was their thing, first to arrive, last to leave . Even if they ended up not leaving half the time.
But now they lay here, and they’re no longer the scrawny little boys getting ready to debut. They’re rich and successful, and they both know they can afford to not be here right now. They both have managers whose literal job description includes driving them home from practice at stupid o’clock in the morning.
But maybe it’s just for old times sake, they don’t tend to be allowed to spend a lot of time together—despite promoting in SuperM together—so once in a while it’s nice to be together like this, even if it’s going to leave Taemin with a sore neck tomorrow morning.
Still—the fact that Jongin is here with him, despite them both knowing they have nice, comfortable beds in nice, comfortable apartments they could be sleeping in right now, brings butterflies to Taemin’s stomach a bit. He’s used to it at this point, the feeling of almost sickness that accompanies being with Jongin—but it’s not bad, he thinks.
A few moments pass, and Taemin tilts his head slightly to look up at Jongin, who's staring back down at him with half asleep eyes. Taemin’s heart skips a beat.
“Hey,” He whispers, a smile playing at his lips.
“Hey.” Taemin whispers back.
There might be something happening here, Taemin thinks. He swallows. There’s a moment, a split second where he thinks he can see Jongin’s eyes flick to his lips, but it’s dim in here, the only light coming from the faint green exit sign, and they’re back before he even has time to process it—staring deep into his soul. There’s a certain way Jongin looks at him, his gaze is intense, and Taemin’s never met anyone with a gaze like it.
And then a sudden burst of exhaustion washes over Taemin, and he squeezes his eyes shut, yawning. Jongin lets out a chuckle, so soft it's almost silent, and Taemin snuggles back into his chest and allows sleep to overtake them.
The next time they get some proper time together is after SuperM’s concert in London.
The stars seem to have aligned in the way that they have a few days spare before they have to fly out of the UK again, and their management team has decided that this is a great opportunity to film more content, so they’re asked to pick names from a hat and then they split off into three groups.
If Taemin swaps his slip of paper with Mark’s so that he’s paired with Jongin, he’s very subtle about it.
They’re quickly given a GoPro each, and strict instructions to not get into trouble, and then they’re off—a staff member following them, obviously, but she’s far enough behind them that they can actually enjoy themselves.
They’re somewhere on the riverfront, and Taemin reaches to turn on his camera, but Jongin reaches out to stop him. He turns his head in surprise.
“Hey,” Jongin says, softly, “Just wait a second. She won’t know if we don’t turn them on for a bit. We can have some time to ourselves.”
Taemin nods. The most alone time he’s had recently is when he's been asleep. In his hotel bed. Literally every single other moment in his life leaves him with a camera thrust in his face—car rides, backstage at concerts, even in his own bedroom sometimes. God, filming that documentary was awful . But what can he say, SM loves making money.
Jongin swaps his GoPro into his left hand, and takes Taemin’s with his right. Taemin’s face reddens a little—they’re in public in a country where two men holding hands doesn't exactly scream platonic —but then he figures, he knows its platonic, and the only people who’d know who they are are fans who’re probably educated on the cultural differences anyway.
So he intertwines their fingers, and they swing their joined hands between them as they walk.
They visit all of the typical attractions, documenting them with various selfies. Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge, Big Ben.
(It’s unfortunately anticlimactic, apparently it’s been covered in scaffolding since 2017. Nobody told Taemin that.)
They have lunch at some ridiculously priced restaurant in Covent Garden, as arranged by their staff member, and it’s pleasant. They order their meals in broken English, and Taemin tries to relax.
Their staff member has sat down a few tables away—probably so that she can keep an eye on them whilst simultaneously allowing them to film more content for SuperM’s YouTube channel—and Taemin lets himself imagine it’s just the two of them. The lights are dim, the natural glow through the windows being absorbed by the dark mahogany furniture. Two tealights flicker between them.
It’s almost.. Romantic, if Taemin would allow himself to think that. He and Jongin are far from official—Taemin doesn’t even know if Jongin feels that way about him, but sometimes it’s nice to think that he might.
Times like this, when Jongin reaches over the table for two and takes Taemin’s hand into his. Taemin’s not sure if he turned off his camera or if Jongin is just feeling extra bold today, but he doesn’t back down.
He runs his thumb over Taemin’s knuckles, and Taemin sighs. He didn’t realise how tense he was, but it turns out Jongin did.
Taemin closes his eyes slowly—resting them for a second. He allows his exhaustion to catch up with him. He got 8 hours of sleep last night, which may seem like a bearable amount, but after a tour like this what he really needs is to be unconscious for a month.
But he knows it won't happen. Even if he’s not openly preparing for a comeback, stuff is always happening behind the scenes. Whether it's working on his next solo album, writing songs for other singers, appearing on variety shows, whatever—Taemin’s schedule is more packed than the general public thinks.
He knows Jongin’s is just the same, if not worse, and he wishes he knew how he does it. Jongin’s been in the industry for the same amount of time as him, give or take, they spent their teen years training together, but he always seemed so much more put together than Taemin.
Or at least, that's what Taemin thought.
He’s snapped out of his thoughts when the waitress comes over with their meals, and they untangle their fingers, Taemin moving backwards to make space for his plate. Jongin’s duck confit makes his kale salad look slightly pathetic, he thinks, and Jongin frowns.
“What?” Taemin asks.
“You just.. You don’t need to diet all the time.” He replies, quietly. Taemin cocks his head to the side. “Like.. I know it’s not really my business but you’re allowed to enjoy yourself, you know? We’re half the world away from home, nobody’s watching you.”
Taemin nods, looking down at his plate, and Jongin begins to dig into his meal. It’s only a few moments later, when Jongin reaches over with a chunk of duck on the end of his fork that Taemin realises what he’s doing.
“Jonginnie, it’s okay. You don’t have to.” He laughs, but Jongin doesn’t move away until Taemin rolls his eyes and leans forward to take a bite of the duck from Jongin’s fork. Jongin smiles when he’s done, and looks content.
They spend the majority of the rest of the day filming on Oxford Street, spending way too much money on overpriced crappy souvenirs and traditional British snacks.
They go to Selfriges, splitting up in order to try and cover as much ground as possible, and Taemin is honestly shocked at the huge variety of things. Sure, he’s been to tons of department stores before, but he doesn’t think anything compares to this. There’s just.. Utter shit everywhere being sold for goodness knows how much.
He doesn’t really know where to start. He wants to pick out a gift for Jongin. He knows there’s literally no reason—anything he can afford, Jongin can also afford—and it’s not like his birthday is any time soon, but Taemin just feels like it. He’s never been that good at showing his affection, he thinks. It’s always different with Jongin.
But—there’s just so much choice. He knows Jongin has probably run off to the expensive clothing brands on the first floor, and he doesn’t blame him, but Taemin has never been as into fashion as him.
He decides to look around in the food hall. He’s not much of a cook, but that doesn’t mean he can’t pretend to be interested in some of the items of food he’s never seen before.
He doesn’t know how much time he spends there—chatting nonsense to the camera—but just as he’s eyeing up some particularly nice looking macarons, he feels a familiar pair of arms snake around his waist, and a chin come to rest on his shoulder.
“Whatcha looking at?” Jongin says, before pressing a little kiss to Taemin’s jaw. Taemin’s cheeks turn crimson, but if Jongin notices, he doesn’t say anything.
The woman behind the counter gives them a knowing look.
Taemin buys them a macaron each, and they eat them whilst walking back down Oxford Street. It’s late February, so although it's only a little past 5, it’s already getting dim, and Taemin feels a bit empty once he realises that the day is coming to an end. Soon they’ll have to pack up all of their things and move on again.
Now that the winter sun is hidden behind the tall gothic buildings—well, Taemin thinks they’re gothic, he doesn’t really know much about architecture, but they look cool and old—the two of them start to feel the chill. Taemin forgot to bring gloves, once again, so his little hands start to go numb.
“Ahh, my hands are going numb.” He complains to the camera, and Jongin turns to look at him. He reaches over for what must be the third time that day, and takes Taemin’s tiny hand in his warm one.
Taemin smiles to nobody in particular, his breath spiralling out in little wisps, as they stroll hand in hand through London.
The next time it happens, they’re on Knowing Brothers with the SuperM boys just after their second comeback, and perhaps it’s Taemin’s fault for reacting the way he did the first time he was on here. Soogeun cracks another absolutely hilarious joke about Taemin’s femininity, who has to pretend to find it funny, and then suddenly it’s “oh Kai, you and Taemin make quite the pretty couple!” and now it’s Jongin’s turn to force out a laugh.
The discussion turns on to their dating rumors from 2014, thanks to Kyunghoon —
(Taemin didn’t even know any of them remembered that. Well— he could see Heechul bringing it up, salty thanks to the fact that they both went through the same “oh you have long hair you must be gay” thing, but he’s surprisingly silent.)
—which everybody seems to find hysterically funny, especially Mark, but then again, what doesn’t he find funny?
But then Baekhyun seems to take pity on them, and he steers the conversation towards Heechul and Kyunghoon’s funny relationship, and now it’s their turn to blush. Well—Heechul not so much, he’s used to all of this—years of rumors regarding his sexuality have numbed the feeling—but Kyunghoon turns a shade of red that deeply satisfies Taemin, and when he glances at Jongin, he knows they both share the same feeling. Revenge .
Taemin thinks he’s safe after that, and it’s not until he gets volunteered to play whatever stupid game the writers have come up with today that he realises he’s not, because Lucas has the great brainless idea of suggesting that the winner gets a kiss on the cheek from Kai-hyung, and the Knowing Brothers cast seem to think it’s absolutely genius, and wow, how lucky for Taemin.
He’s up against Hodong, and Taemin thinks he might as well put in the effort to win, just to save Jongin from the torture of having to kiss a 50 year old ex-wrestler. He doesn’t want to assume his status, but Taemin assumes he’s just slightly more appealing.
But hey , who knows. Taemin’s not here to kinkshame.
Well actually, he knows. He’s known Jongin for more than half his life, he knows how shy he can be, and he thinks Jongin would probably actually die if he had to kiss an almost-stranger in front of a crew of almost fifty people, and of course everyone watching at home. And when Taemin actually spares a glance at Jongin, yup, just as he thought. He’s almost as red as Kyunghoon was before, which is a difficult feat to achieve.
Taemin wins, of course, and Soogeun cracks another unfunny joke, this time about how eager Taemin seemed to be. He laughs it off, once again, and turns towards Jongin to receive his prize . Jongin looks nervous, understandably, the torture of having to reappear on the show in the first place paired with the fact that he has to kiss someone, and yeah, they’ve been best friends for years, but that doesn’t make it any less awkward when theyre on air. Taemin throws him a smile that he hopes comes across as reassuring, and the corner of Jongin’s lips turn up slightly.
He makes a fuss beforehand, playing it up for the cameras, but when it gets to the actual kiss, it’s brief, obviously, and although it's over in a split second, Taemin’s cheek tingles for the rest of the show.
Of course, it’s not over yet, and they still have to endure another torturous hour or so of pretending to find five middle aged men’s outdated jokes funny, but Taemin thinks it can’t get much worse now.
When they’re finally finished, and they’re in the green room getting their mics taken off, Jongin finds his eyes.
“Sorry about earlier,” He starts, but Taemin cuts him off, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, “it’s nothing we’re not used to, and we both know how these shows will do anything to get their ratings up.”
Jongin nods silently, and they stay there for another moment, until Baekhyun calls them over and it’s time to go home. Finally , Taemin is absolutely exhausted , and all he wants is a nice long bath and perhaps a nap for the next week, he’s been working non-stop recently.
He sighs as he gets into one of the cars that are waiting, and when he’s settled in, Jongin slides in behind him.
Taemin’s manager has the great idea of suggesting that he goes live on instagram to kill time. Taemin can’t exactly say no, especially when Jongin seems so excited, so he digs his phone out from his pocket and swipes to open instagram with his tiny little hands.
He waves at the camera, says hello and starts talking about anything and everything. Jongin stays pretty much silent—out of frame, so Taemin has to do most of the talking, but he’s fine with it. As tired as he is right now, he loves interacting with his fans, he always misses them, but especially now when he hasn’t been able to actually see them in so long.
At some point, the fans start to ask him who’s sat next to him, so he turns the camera to Jongin.
“Everyone, it’s our lovely Jonginnie, say hello!” He says, a grin on his face, and Jongin nods at the camera, gives a quick introduction in that low, silky rich voice of his.
In the dim light, the grainy video shows Jongin rest his head on Taemin’s shoulder, damp hair from the rain that caught them as they ran into the car chilling through Taemin’s thin t-shirt. He leans up, presses a fleeting kiss to Taemin’s jaw, before turning to the camera and settling back into Taemin’s side. The comments on instagram go wild, flooding with question marks and keysmashes and shocked face emojis, and Taemin’s cheeks turn a gorgeous shade of pink.
Taemin turns the live off after ten or so minutes, and the rest of the drive home is peaceful, as they settle into a comfortable silence. Jongin has taken Taemin’s right hand into his, and runs his thumb over Taemin’s knuckles.
Taemin is alone with his thoughts.
He’s not sure if he’s imagining it—if now that they’re actually promoting together and are allowed to spend so much more time with each other it’s just becoming more obvious to him—or if it’s actually happening, but Jongin seems to be so much more clingy recently.
Clingy, or just more affectionate. Taemin’s not complaining, but it’s different.
He lets his mind wander, thinks back to how Jongin’s lips felt on his jaw just mere minutes ago. He wonders if Jongin knows how he makes Taemin feel—if he knows about the butterflies and the thrill and the way Taemin doesn’t want anything more than the feeling of Jongin next to him, being able to call Jongin his .
He looks over at Jongin now, and he’s asleep on his shoulder, and Taemin wants to cry. He looks so gorgeous, his eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks, and Taemin reaches for his phone, snapping a photo as carefully as he can without waking him—and he hopes his manager doesn’t think he’s creepy.
Jongin is drunk.
They’re at the annual SM halloween party, and it’s been a few hours, and Jongin has had just a little too much to drink. Taemin, of course , is in charge of looking after him, and while in any other situation he wouldn’t care, Taemin knows that when Jongin gets drunk, he gets handsy.
Nothing too bad, and only to his close friends (i.e. Taemin ), but Taemin find it hard enough to spend every day with Jongin without doing something stupid (kissing him) so it’s even harder to restrain himself when the person in question is crowding him against a bathroom door, pressing hot kisses into his neck.
“Jonginnie—” he breathes. “Jonginnie, stop, come on now.”
Jongin ignores him. Or maybe he just doesn’t hear. He’s got his hands wrapped loosely around Taemin’s waist, and Taemin feels like he can’t breathe.
Taemin’s not uncomfortable, this isn’t too unusual for Jongin, he just—a part of him just wishes that Jongin could do this perhaps when he’s less... drunk.
“Jonginnie. ” Taemin whines, elongating the last syllable. “Come onnn.”
Finally, Jongin pulls away, a dopey smile on his lips as they become face to face, and Taemin grins back.
“Hey,” He says, softly. He ruffles Jongin’s hair, who leans into the touch.
Being Halloween, they’re both dressed up—Jongin as a vampire, decked out in a long black cape on top of his shirt and jeans; and a pair of fake fangs, which had been discarded at some point during the night—and Taemin as some sort of angel, a shimmery silver shirt paired with white skinny jeans, and a lopsided halo. Taemin thinks it suits them.
“Taeminnieee. ” Jongin says. “I’m drunk.”
Taemin scoffs, fondly. “No shit,” he chuckles. “I need to get you home.”
Jongin wiggles his eyebrows. “I like a man who’s straightforward.”
Taemin smacks him playfully on the arm, pretending not to blush. Jongin’s probably too drunk to notice anyway.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He says. They’d only come in here in the first place to get Jongin a drink of water—everywhere else too crowded. Jongin had stuck his face underneath the tap and Taemin had laughed at him, leaning against the bathroom door.
(At some point after that it had escalated to Jongin trying to bite his neck off—maybe he was taking his costume a bit too literally.)
Taemin tries to maneuver Jongin’s arms off of his waist, but he protests.
“One more kiss,” Jongin pouts—and how can Taemin deny him when he looks so damn cute— so he rolls his eyes in faux annoyance, and nods.
He expects Jongin to kiss him on the neck again, or at least the cheek, but instead Jongin leans forward and plants his lips right on the corner of Taemin’s mouth. It’s quick—of course, and he makes a little “mwah” sound—but Taemin’s eyes still widen in shock. It looks like Jongin is in as much shock as he is in—because once he pulls back his mouth drops open.
“I—I think I’m drunker than I thought,” he begins, “my hand eye coordination is way off.”
Taemin just nods, and then Jongin takes a step backwards, offering him a small smile. Taemin just smiles back, and takes Jongin’s hand in his. It doesn’t get awkward between them, and he knows Jongin is drunk enough that he’ll forget it in a minute anyway.
They make their way back out through the party, but before they can properly leave, Baekhyun, in all his high-tolerance-for-alcohol glory, tugs at Taemin’s arm.
“Leaving already?” He says, a stupid smirk on his lips. Taemin just rolls his eyes.
“He’s really drunk, he should go home before he passes out on some poor trainee.”
Baekhyun just waves his hand.
“Excuses excuses, but I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow then. Or whenever.” He says, and Taemin nods.
They say their goodbyes, and then Taemin shoves Jongin into the back of a cab. Luckily, Jongin keeps to himself, so Taemin doesn’t have to waste anymore of his energy trying to keep his hands from wandering in front of the poor taxi driver.
When they arrive back at Jongin’s apartment, Taemin invites himself in. He knows Jongin, and he knows that he’ll just pass out on the nearest surface if nobody helps him.
Taemin steers him towards his bedroom—discarding his stupid vampire cape on the way—and Jongin tries not to trip over his own feet.
Taemin should’ve seen it coming when, as he tries to push Jongin down onto his bed, Jongin just loops his hands around Taemin and brings him down with him. They lay in a heap over the duvet, and Taemin honestly doesn’t have the energy to move. He doesn’t have a particularly busy schedule tomorrow anyway.
“ Look , Taeminnie,” Jongin says into Taemin’s shirt, “You did take me to bed.” Taemin restrains himself from hitting him.
“Shhh,” He says, “Sleep time.”
The doorbell to Taemin’s apartment rings, and he sighs in relief—his stomach has been growling for the past half an hour.
It’s Jongin at the door, of course, laden with bags of snacks.
“I hope you’re hungry.” He says, as he starts unpacking them onto the coffee table in the lounge. The unmistakable scent of satay pork fills the room, and Taemin’s mouth starts watering.
There’s bags of chips, soda, and a tub of strawberry ice cream too—but he’s too focused on the pork to think about anything else right now.
He and Jongin both had empty schedules today, and their favourite takeout place had just reopened, and Mark had recommended Taemin some horror movie the other day, so he and Jongin couldn’t not have a movie night.
They eat their food as the movie starts—some two hour thing about a house in the woods, all stereotypical—and make themselves comfortable on Taemin’s couch.
Taemin’s never been one to get scared easily, especially by a movie as overdone as this one, but he thinks he must just be extra tired today, because the lines between screen and real life blur together more than usual.
So —he can’t be blamed when a particularly gory scene has him curling in on himself. He feels more than hears Jongin’s low chuckle, as he wraps his arms around Taemin and tugs him closer.
“Aww, baby .” He coos, and Taemin has half the mind to hit him.
“I’m older than you, jerk.” He says, instead. The food is long gone, discarded cartons of takeout littering Taemin’s floor, so Jongin pulls him down to lay on his chest.
It’s intimate, Taemin thinks, and they stay like that for the next however long, Taemin absentmindedly tracing circles into the material of Jongin’s shirt.
It’s all fun and games—until Jongin gets bored and decides to entertain himself in the form of peppering a dozen kisses up and down Taemin’s neck. He physically cringes, tries to wriggle free but Jongin’s strong arms just wrap tighter around him.
This isn’t too out of the ordinary, Taemin supposes, until Jongin actually sucks on the spot right behind his ear, and Taemin feels his stomach drop.
“Jonginnie,“ he whispers, “what are you doing?”
He just gets a hum in response, and then Jongin pulls away slightly and murmurs “Is this okay?” Taemin can feel his lips against the shell of his ear, and he shivers.
He just nods, shakily, and Jongin latches on to his neck again. He’s not drunk this time—and that has to mean something, right?
He tilts his head to the side, trying to give Jongin more room to work with, and Jongin brings his hands up to the other side of Taemin’s neck.
Just as Taemin is having a miniature mental breakdown, Jongin presses one light kiss to the spot on his neck, and then moves away. Taemin thinks this is gonna leave a mark.
Jongin pats the spot, admiring his work. “Revenge.” He says, simply, and then he moves on.
“Wh.. what for?” Taemin splutters, but Jongin just laughs.
Taemin however, spaces out for the rest of the movie. What the hell. That was some less-than-platonic behaviour right there.
He sighs internally. The last few months have been weird—he thinks. The already blurred lines of their friendship have become even more unclear. He doesn’t know where they stand at this point, but despite having known Jongin for most of his life, there’s no way in hell he's asking him. He’d much rather suffer in silence than take the risk, that's his way of living.
After Jongin goes home that night, Taemin decides he needs some advice, but Jongin is who he always goes to in times of need, and now he’s the problem , so Taemin doesn’t really know what to do. He lies on his sofa, scrolling and scrolling through his contact list, looking for someone—anyone who he could talk to.
It’s not that he’s not close with anyone, it’s just that.. well.. this problem is quite deep. Not only is he possibly in love with someone, but that someone is a man. And so is Taemin, and relationships are bad enough in the idol industry but same-sex ones are almost unheard of.
There’s only two people who Taemin has explicitly talked about his sexuality with—one of them is Jongin, all the way back when they were teenagers and Taemin quietly confessed that he found one of their hyungs cute, and Jongin had laughed but squeezed his hand in a way that Taemin knew was silent support—and the other is Kibum. Not that his other members didn’t know, he was sure they’d picked it up somehow, perhaps noticed the way he looked at Jongin, but Kibum was the only one who Taemin had actually come out to.
(Taemin remembers it vividly—he’d cried and cried and Kibum had held him, whispering consolidation and “It’s okay, I’ve been there too.”)
Taemin wonders if he’s busy, he basically thrust himself into as many projects as he possibly could after he got out of the military—apparently it’d been super inspiring, or something.
Taemin hovers his finger over the contact, and then thinks fuck it, he’ll either reply or he won’t, and presses call. It rings for a few seconds, and then Taemin hears a raspy “Hello?”
“Hyung,” He starts, “can I talk to you about something?” Kibum only hums, so Taemin continues, “It’s about Jongin.”
Kibum lets out a short laugh, “Ahh, what did that rascal do this time?”
Taemin swallows.
“Well actually, hyung..” He pauses, searching for the right words, “Well actually it’s my fault, hyung. I think.. God this sounds so childish but I think I’m in love with him.. or something.. I don’t know.”
It shouldn’t surprise Taemin when there’s no sharp intake of breath, no shocked tone and he can almost picture the deadpan on Kibum’s face when he replies “Congratulations, Taemin-ah, I think you’re officially the last person to know.”
“Thanks, hyung, but what am I supposed to do ? I don’t want to ruin our friendship, but I don’t want to like.. Potentially waste loads of time that could be spent together, you know?”
“Well, I’m conflicted. I want to tell you to go for it, because I know Jongin absolutely adores you, and you’re perfect for each othe r— but at the same time — we both know how the industry treats gay people, even if everyone’s trying to be progressive.”
Taemin nods, and Kibum continues.
“Do you think you can deal with it? Which sounds more torturous, having to keep your relationship a secret, or having to see Jongin grow up and fall in love with someone else?”
Taemin takes a second to think about this. Being an idol is hard enough already, he doesn’t want to put even more pressure on Jongin to keep up a relationship behind the scenes. He knows Jonign’s been through that before, and this one time it would be even harder on him, but then he thinks about how he felt when he was in other relationships. Jennie and Krystal were both lovely girls, he remembers, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy every time Jongin politely declined to meet up with him to spend time with one of them instead, even though Taemin knew it was completely his right to do so.
And now that Taemin’s feelings have properly developed into something strong and heart-wrenching, he doesn’t know if he can deal with it again.
Well, that settles it then , he thinks.
“Thank you for the advice, hyung.” He says, and he can hear Kibum’s smile as he replies.
“Have fun, tell Jonginnie I said hi.”
Taemin stays there for a few moments after Kibum ends the call. He’s exhausted, to say the least, and this revelation makes him want to cry a bit. He still has no idea how to talk to Jongin, only that he has to before it’s too late.
He groans, and rolls onto his side in despair. Fuck this , he can deal with it tomorrow morning.
Taemin is freaking out.
He’s allowed to be. In June, they were rumored to be nominated for a Grammy, which at the time they all laughed at, haha imagine a Grammy nomination for a song called Jopping lmao , until it actually happened —and Taemin and the rest of the SuperM boys were hustled onto a jet and flown to LA.
(Well, not literally, there were like.. months between these two events but that's not the point.)
Anyway—now he’s backstage at the Grammys, and they’re about to go on and perform Jopping and he’s so fucking stressed .
Everyone keeps telling him that it’s just another award show, and he’s been doing these for 12 years now, but this is different . Sure, he’s performed in front of American audiences before, but this is just a whole new territory. It’s the literal Grammys. 20 million people watch them (not that Taemin checked or anything) every year and so many amazing musical artists are out there, waiting for him to perform.
Beyoncé is out there, for Christ’s sake.
He’s seriously considering making a break for it, but then he feels a hand on his waist. It’s Jongin, of course, and Taemin relaxes, just a tiny bit.
He spins round to face Jongin, and if his heart wasn’t already going a mile a minute, it definitely was now. Jongin looks absolutely stunning in his stage outfit (not that he doesn’t always look stunning, but there’s something about the way this velvet shirt makes his shoulders look)—and Taemin doesn’t even care that he’s blatantly checking him out in front of everyone.
Jongin wraps his arms around Taemin, pulling him into one of his signature bear hugs, reserved for Taemin, and he sighs.
“You can do this,” Jongin murmurs into his hair—and Taemin just clings tighter to him. He hasn’t experienced stagefright like this in years —not since he first debuted.
He burrows further into Jongin’s chest—trying to make himself as small as possible—and they sway together for a few moments, Taemin so so reluctant to pull away, but he knows it's inevitable, and he has to make himself look strong in front of the younger members—he’s supposed to be the most experienced one here, for God’s sake.
When they part, Jongin’s arms stay wrapped around Taemin’s waist, but his right hand comes up to cradle Taemin’s jaw.
“Places!” The stage manager announces in English, but Taemin and Jongin stay like that for a few more moments, gazing at each other.
Just when Taemin thinks they’re going to split off to their starting positions, Jongin brings his other hand up to cup Taemin’s face, and leans down to brush their lips together, right there in front of everyone backstage. Taemin’s eyes widen, before fluttering shut, and his own hands find Jongin’s shoulders.
It really is nothing more than a brush of lips, and Jongin is pulling away before he knows it but Taemin is just. In so much shock.
And then Jongin pats him on the shoulder awkwardly—throws him a little smile and walks over to his starting position and—
—what the fuck .
Baekhyun is standing there with a hand on his hip and as he opens his mouth to speak—probably some stupid witty comment—Taemin puts a finger up and says “Fuck off. Just shut up.”
Baekhyun puts his hands up in defence “I didn’t say anything.” But Taemin isn’t listening.
He’s walking away past Baekhyun, and Taemin decides that he’s just going to have to put this in the back of his mind for now and focus on the actual performance. What the fuck.
The performance goes off without a hitch, which Taemin is grateful for, because as soon as the music starts and he locks eyes with Beyoncé, it’s like the spirit of Lee Taemin possesses him and for the next four minutes he just runs off straight adrenaline.
It’s over before he knows it, and they’re rushed off stage and get their mics taken off them and their outfits changed and then for the rest of the night Taemin has to sit there next to his SuperM members and smile at the cameras like nothing is wrong.
The other performers make it hard for Taemin to get caught up in his thoughts, so he does actually manage to enjoy himself a bit, but in between acts he feels the anxiety bubble in his chest.
He doesn’t have to sit through this torture for that long though—they’d been chosen to perform near the end of the show, so it’s only really fourty minutes or so before they’re saying their goodbyes and walking back out onto the red carpet.
Taemin knows there’s various after parties, some of which are probably begging their manager to let them make an appearance at, but Taemin’s honestly too exhausted to care. They only flew in yesterday morning, so he’s still incredibly jetlagged—and also just worn out after, you know, performing at the Grammys—so when the other SuperM boys hurry him into a car, he just goes with it.
They arrive back at their hotel some time after 12, and after a quick “hey, we just did that!”, they’re off to their rooms. Taemin showers, and although he wants nothing more than to collapse on the mountain of pillows that awaits him, he knows he should talk to Jongin. Not just for his sake, but for the whole group. It’d be selfish to let something like this get in the way of the group’s dynamics.
After changing into some more comfortable clothes, Taemin towels his hair dry—takes a deep breath to try and calm himself—and steps into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind him, and he makes his way across the corridor.
He stops outside Jongin’s room, briefly pausing before giving the door three quick knocks.
There’s no immediate answer, and for a split second Taemin considers running away for the second time that night, but then just as he turns to go back to his hotel room, he hears a quiet little
“Taemin?”
When Taemin looks back around, Jongin is standing there shyly, his face half hidden behind the door. A beat passes.
“Can we talk?” Taemin says, and Jongin nods slowly, beckoning him inside.
They make their way into the room, and the tension is so thick Taemin thinks you could probably cut it with a knife. Jongin drops onto the bed, and Taemin gingerly joins him. It’s silent for a moment or two, awkward, as Taemin tries to form the right words. He should’ve planned this out better.
Just as he’s about to open his mouth, Jongin reaches over and tangles their fingers together.
“Taeminnie. ” He sighs. Taemin hums, leaning over to rest his head on Jongin’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
He waits, and Jongin continues.
“Not for the kiss, that’s a different story—but..” He takes a breath in, “I shouldn’t have put you in a situation like that. I was just trying to help, I swear, but I let my impulsive side get the best of me, and I’m sorry.”
Taemin squeezes his hand. “It was pretty distracting—but I forgive you.” He says, and his voice is light.
There’s a few moments of comfortable silence, before Jongin says, “Taeminnie, I have to ask, what exactly are we? Because.. Well.. we hang out all the time, we can’t go a minute without touching each other, and, well, we’ve kissed a few more times than I think most friends have.”
Taemin, doesn't reply, but moves his head away from Jongin’s shoulder, leaning back slightly, giving himself a second to take him in. He’s beautiful, as usual—his damp black hair sticking up in tufts here and there, a light blush dusting his cheeks, and he just looks so unbelievably soft.
And Taemin wants to kiss him.
So he slowly raises his right hand—the one that’s not intertwined with Jongin’s right now—and places it gently on Jongin’s jaw. He swallows.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, softly.
Jongin looks at him in disbelief for a moment, before shakily nodding. Taemin takes his time, eyes tracing every feature on Jongin’s face as he leans in—and it’s so slow he thinks his heart is going to explode, but when their lips finally press together, he lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding in.
It’s a bit awkward at first, the angle not doing them any favours, but then Jongin brings his hand to Taemin’s face and Taemin feels him smile into the kiss and it’s okay.
It’s deep, and slightly rushed but Taemin doesn’t care. He absolutely melts against Jongin—oblivious to the world around them—and Taemin doesn’t even care because years of repressed feelings are pouring out of him—until someone coughs and they spring apart, cheeks flushed and lips swollen, and then Taemin just—
Lucas is stood in the doorway, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as obvious realisation dawns on his face, and he says “Uh.. um.. Baekhyun-hyung wants to speak to everyone.” and then the room is silent for a few moments before he splutters “But! I’m sure he can wait. Never mind, hyungs, carry on!”
He scuttles out of the room, the door closing behind him, and Taemin drops his head forwards in embarrassment. He lets out a chuckle, which Jongin mirrors and then they’re just there, giggling together until Jongin says “We probably should go and see what he wants, you know.”
“You’re too responsible.” Taemin replies, fiddling with Jongin’s fingers—but then he nods and stands up, pulling Jongin up with him.
Before Taemin can open the door, Jongin spins him round and presses one more soft kiss to his lips. It’s sweet, and Taemin grins before tugging Jongin out the door and down the hallway toward Baekhyun’s room.
When Taemin wakes the next morning, tucked safely into Jongin’s arms, he feels terribly happy, as Jongin combs his fingers through Taemin’s hair, and Taemin angles his face to look up at him.
“Good morning.” Jongin says, softly, before reaching down slightly to brush their lips together. It’s sweet, but when he leans back, Taemin grimaces.
Jongin sends him a confused look, and Taemin simply replies “Morning breath.”
They shower and get dressed, knowing they have a full day of travel ahead of them, but Taemin thinks it’ll be slightly more bearable with Jongin by his side.
When they meet the others downstairs for breakfast, he pretends to not notice the smug look on Baekhyun's face, instead focusing on grabbing two places and pressing one softly into Jongin’s hands.
And after that, not much changes.
Well, there’s definitely some differences, the quick kisses snuck backstage, the lingering touches that Taemin is no longer afraid of, the knowledge that he is Jongin’s, and Jongin is his—but apart from that, he realises that perhaps they were closer than Taemin previously thought.
They still meet up every free chance they get, still cuddle and hold hands and share beds. The late night to early morning facetime calls still happen, except now Taemin doesn’t get flustered every time Jongin looks at him with those soft, fond eyes—at least not in the same way.
He knows it's going to be hard, dancing around everyone, trying to keep their relationship a secret, but when he looks over and sees Jongin and feels the warmth bloom in his chest, he thinks it’s worth it.