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Taemin moaned when Kibum pulled his hair, gasping as Kibum’s manicured fingers scratched his scalp and his lips attached themselves to Taemin’s neck. Biting, scratching, pulling– Taemin liked it rough, and the only one he knew who could give it to him like he wanted was his ex-boyfriend.

“Does he let you fuck him like this? I bet he isn’t flexible like me.” Taemin smirked, his babbling soon turning into laboured panting as Kibum pushed in wordlessly, too used to Taemin’s taunting and far more attuned to his body than even he was. They had developed a rhythm over the five years they were not-so-blissfully together. Taemin would rile Kibum up, and in return Kibum could use him in any way he wanted— Taemin craved to be in his mercy and Kibum was more than happy to oblige.

“All okay?” Kibum finally spoke, his breathing erratic too. He looked like a mess above him– blonde hair in a disarray, lips kissed swollen, his elegantly applied eyeshadow smudged and running down to his high cheekbones. Taemin’s chest swelled with pride. That was his work.

Taemin responded by rolling his hips, in just the way he knew would drive Kibum insane. Kibum snorted, getting the message, and took a hold of his waist and snapped his own hips in time with Taemin’s. Taemin hadn’t felt this good in over a year. None of his hookups could ever compare to this.

“What? Cat got your tongue? Won’t you ask me if Minho knew how to use his hips like you do?” It was Kibum’s time to gloat now. He knew Taemin would be incoherent at this point. He knew.

“I don’t need to ask that,” Taemin moaned, back arching. He was close. So close. “I know there is no one like me.”

“At least you got that right,” Kibum’s voice was tender all of a sudden– sounding far more appropriate for a romantic candlelit dinner than for Taemin’s bedroom, “There is no one like you.”

Taemin blinked in surprise. But the moment was gone already. Kibum’s face was focused again as he pushed Taemin off the edge of his orgasm, and chased his own– shuddering inside Taemin and his larger, skilled hands jerking Taemin off till he was spent, and breathing heavily not from pleasure but from exhaustion.

“You’re so good to me Taemin,” Kibum pressed a kiss on his cheek, knuckles running over the few tears that had escaped from his eyes. Were they from pain? Pleasure? Longing? Taemin didn’t intend to find out, for now just satisfied with leaning into Kibum’s touch as he collapsed beside him.

“Always so beautiful, so stunning.” Another kiss. This time on his forehead. Taemin fluttered his eyes closed. This was important to him too. The praise. The aftercare. The feeling of a wet towel wiping his body clean.

Kibum had given him so much. His time. His body. His heart.

It was a shame Taemin had barely given him anything in return.

He sat up, eyes following Kibum as he discarded the towel in the hamper, picking up his clothes strewn all over the floor next and shrugging them on. Once upon a time vacating the house after sex would have been unimaginable– after all they had lived together for three years of their five year relationship; although for the last one year Taemin had spent his time mostly outside, avoiding Kibum, until he gave up on Taemin altogether. Taemin remembered feeling relieved when he had come back from work to find their apartment empty, and then being miserable for the next six months, until Kibum had called again, wanting closure, and also to inform him that he had a new boyfriend now. A professional golfer named Choi Minho who didn’t happen to run away when Kibum planned a future with him.

But here was Kibum, another six months later, sleeping with Taemin under the pretence of just wanting an old friend to talk to after his breakup. Neither of them had ever been good at boundaries anyway.

“So what happened?” Taemin asked, making sure his voice sounded disinterested as ever, “I thought you and Minho were going to get married in a month with the rate you were moving forward in your relationship.”

They had already found an apartment together. Talked to each other’s parents. Adopted a dog. Another dog to match the first one. All in half a year of meeting each other— Taemin would have scoffed, if only he wasn’t aware that a part of this had been because of him. Kibum had seeked security and domesticity in the first person who had offered it, and it so happened that Minho was as doting as they came.

Kibum shot him an unimpressed glare as he buttoned his shirt.

“Why are you interested?”

“Well, you happen to be here, having sex with me days after your split with him. Can’t I even be curious?”

Kibum let out a long suffering sigh, “Time happened. He’s on international tours a lot and I’ve gotten busier with the boutique. We are cranky, we argue every time we talk and we simply aren’t seeing enough of each other to work this out.”

“Sounds lame.”

“Excuse me?”

Taemin ran a hand through his long black hair, pulling at the strands that had knotted over in the duration of their activities throughout the night, and thinking of the best way to word his thoughts. The thing was that Kibum was happy with Minho. Taemin still remembered the first time he met him after their own split. Kibum was downright glowing, talking about how he had finally moved over Taemin, had gotten his life together, and found himself a boyfriend who loved him. Kibum also mentioned that it was not like Taemin cared, if his inattentiveness in their relationship was anything to go by, but he still wanted to say all of it anyway, because it made him happy. Taemin let him. Taemin let him talk all of it out, because the glint in Kibum’s eyes was back. There was energy in his limbs again– animatedly moving around and describing how Minho had turned up in his boutique one day, looking for a good tailored suit, and they had instantly hit it off after that.

Kibum at that moment had looked just as happy as the day he had finally asked Taemin to be his boyfriend. The same joy, the same rosy cheeks, the same excitement as when Taemin had finally finished his Tuesday western ballroom dance class, and Kibum’s textile history class had just ended too, and they were both free and Kibum had wanted to treat him to ice cream and talk to him.

Taemin had accepted defeat from this elusive Choi Minho that day.

“So are you going to elaborate on your comment?” Kibum snapped. Taemin couldn’t blame him for being touchy. He was the last person who should pass judgement on Kibum’s relationships after all.

Taemin sighed.

“What I mean is that sounds like a lame reason to break up for. Cannot find time for each other? You can do better than that Kibum. You micromanage your life enough to find something that will allow you a work-life balance.”

Kibum’s hands, that had been busy draping his scarf, stilled.

“Are you suggesting I should fight for him again?”

Taemin shrugged, “He clearly seems to make you happy, and it would be a shame to lose the deposit on the swanky apartment you guys got together. Although to be fair I know Minho is footing most of the bill on that one.”

Kibum rolled his eyes, but a smile played on his lips.

“You are truly peculiar Lee Taemin. But you are right— I shouldn’t give up so easily,” he laced his shoes, “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

“You too,” Taemin whispered to the shut door in front of him. He fell back down on his bed, touching the marks Kibum had left all over his chest.

What was Taemin doing to himself? Seriously.

“Wild night?” Jonghyun pushed an iced americano into his outstretched hands. Taemin wrinkled his nose. He hated unsweetened coffee, but he had to be on a diet for their dance crew’s upcoming backup dancing obligations, and he also needed to be awake for practice.

“What gave it away?”

Jonghyun touched his own collarbone, indicating where Taemin’s large hickey was.

“Which app was it this time? Tinder? Grindr?”

Taemin grimaced, “Kibum.”

“Kibum as in a random guy named Kibum, or Kibum as in your ex from the longest relationship you’ve ever had, who also happens to be a close friend of mine, and who, as I was recently informed, is single at the moment?”

Taemin shot him a withering look.

“You guys are insane.” Jonghyun joined him on the studio floor, slowly stretching his legs while Taemin sipped on his drink, watching his well built muscles flex. It was almost hypnotising, and it was funny to think that if Kibum had not come along, Taemin would have most likely fallen in love with Jonghyun instead. He had been his senior in university, and Taemin had followed him everywhere, from seeking out a friendship because of their mutual admiration of each other, to looking for jobs at the same places, and to now; opening their own studio and heading a crew together. It had been an uphill battle, one that Kibum had been privy to— having been a boyfriend to Taemin for the whole duration of it, and a friend to Jonghyun, who had gotten along well with Kibum from the very first day they had been introduced to each other.

Now only one of those relationships remained intact.

“He sought me out Jonghyun. What should I have done? Said no?”

“Precisely Taemin. You should have said no.”

The thought had crossed his mind. But then Kibum had started kissing him and all rationale had instantly flown out of the window.

“You and I both know I don’t have the self control for that.”

It was Jonghyun who gave him a withering look this time.

“The difference here is that while Kibum has Minho, you have nothing but regrets and feelings over the relationship you fucked up with him. Being the rebound hookup is going to mess with your head.”

“Oh wow. How poetic,” Taemin retorted sarcastically. It was all an act though. Jonghyun was right– Taemin had been hung up over Kibum ever since they broke up, which would be a year now; an exceedingly alarming amount of time to not move on over someone. But considering Taemin had been the one who had ruined the relationship by being a commitment-phobic asshole, having felt stifled and refusing to discuss an actual long-term life with Kibum– it would be too hypocritical to beg for him back now. Especially when Kibum had clearly found someone who served his needs.

Jonghyun huffed, “I’m just saying– be careful. Even though you were never one to listen to other people’s advice anyway.”

Taemin grinned at Jonghyun’s annoyance, finishing his coffee quickly and joining him in the stretches as well.

“Hey, at least I should get some points for screwing him and still telling him to fight for his ex.”

“Sure, the great benevolent Mother Taemresa. Remember your words the next time Kibum comes around.”

“And what makes you think there will be a next time?”

“There is always a next time with you two, isn’t it?”

There was always a next time when it came to Kibum and Taemin after all.

Kibum thrusted in him from behind while Taemin slouched on all fours, mouth agape in a silent gasp as Kibum created a steady pace. This position was Taemin’s favourite, but Kibum always hated it. He said he wanted to look at Taemin when he fucked him, and not just his ass— although he did have a nice ass. They had worked out a compromise early on– a mirror, right in front of the bed. Even when Taemin had moved out into a tinier apartment, he had still kept a mirror there, for old time’s sake. Something that was working out splendidly for them now.

Taemin glanced at his reflection. He looked like the very definition of sin. Face shiny with sweat, hair mussed by frisky hands, bright red hickeys all over his chest combined with the old purple ones, and his own neglected cock hanging in between his thighs, oozing pre-come.

He caught Kibum staring at him too.

“Like what you are seeing?”

Kibum’s response was a harsh thrust, one that had Taemin’s eyes rolling back and his words dying in his throat. He had missed this. He had missed the grufness of their sex— something that was an embodiment of the trust between them. Taemin trusted Kibum to know how to treat him, and Kibum trusted Taemin enough to tell him if it was too much.

Physically? It was never too much. Kibum knew. Emotionally? Taemin was bursting at the seams.

“So–” Taemin was cut off as Kibum clutched his waist tighter, picking up more speed. The sound of skin against skin was absolutely filthy. Before, they even used to pick some music to play in the background. Now they were too impatient, too occupied trying to get their hands on each other as fast as possible— and honestly, Taemin appreciated the rawness of it. It grounded him.

“You were saying?” Kibum bent close to whisper in his ear. Smug. Arrogant. Cocky.

Kibum was fucking like he was trying to prove a point. Well, point proven.

“So, the patch up didn't work huh?” It was hard to keep forming sentences, but Taemin was nothing if not persistent. “Where are you even living after the breakup? Is the Almighty Key couch surfing?”

Using the name of his fashion brand was a low blow, one that Taemin felt in his nipples when Kibum reached out to pinch them.

“We got a two bedroom flat, Taemin. I even have dogs to take care of. We just avoid each other for now. You must know, you have a lot of experience in that.”

Another low blow. Taemin laughed in disbelief.

“Fuck.” Taemin was about to come untouched at this rate. “You aren’t pulling any punches today, are you?”

Kibum slid a hand between his legs, giving his cock a sharp tug.

“You always liked it that way.”

Taemin came so hard he almost felt dizzy, barely registering Kibum riding out his own orgasm. He folded into himself on the bed when Kibum was done— the sheets were a mess, he was a mess. Kibum mumbled something about water and towels, the other side of the mattress dipping when Kibum came back equipped with the mentioned items, and gently handed Taemin a bottle.

“Drink up. You look like you need it.”

Taemin took small sips as Kibum did his routine of wiping Taemin, pulling the soiled sheets and pressing kisses on Taemin’s face. Both of them loved to talk, especially during sex, but these moments were always shared in silence— Kibum focused as always, and Taemin doe eyed, simply staring in exhaustion and fascination. Taemin knew Kibum was tired too, but he never let it get in the way of the aftercare.

“What are the names of your dogs?”

“What?” Kibum was pulling on his boxers, his back turned to Taemin.

“Your two pups. You never told me their names.”

Kibum paused.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

His back was still turned to him. Taemin wanted to see his face.

“I am interested now, aren’t I?”

“One might even say it is too late for that.”

None of them were talking about any furry canines anymore.

“Kibum—”

“Goodnight Taemin.” he quickly finished dressing up. “Take care.”

“You have met Minho right?”

“What does that have to do with the routine we are choreographing now?”

Taemin rolled his eyes. They both knew Taemin could choreograph a mid tempo song in his sleep and this was only an after hours brainstorming session.

“So you have met Minho. Nice. How is he?”

“Let me guess, you and Kibum fucked again?”

Taemin ignored the fact that Jonghyun kept answering his questions with more questions.

“I searched him up, you know? It's not every day we are tangentially acquainted with someone who has his own Naver page. He's handsome. Charming smile too.”

“Just call it what it is, Taemin. We work with idols. You're friends with like five of them. Don't give me that bullshit.”

Taemin swung his hips gracefully in time to the beat, examining the step in the mirror. Heat creeped up his neck as images of himself in the mirror flashed in his mind, sans clothes, and in Kibum’s mercy.

He blinked away, turning to see Jonghyun watching him with an indecipherable expression.

“Yes I have met Minho,” he finally answered, “He’s genuinely a good person. Is Kibum good to him? Not so sure.”

Taemin’s breath caught in his throat.

“Why do you say that?”

Jonghyun tilted his head. “I get the feeling Minho is collateral damage.”

“In what?”

“Do that hip move again. I like that one– let’s add some footwork to it.”

Taemin knew there was no use coaxing a conversation out of Jonghyun when he had deemed it over. So Taemin immersed himself in dance, just as usual.

If nothing worked, escapism always did.

Taemin keyed in the passcode to his apartment, limbs barely working at this point. He was already dreading cleaning off the heavy makeup on his face and fixing himself something to eat, but his body was too tired to even feel actual hunger anymore. The idol they had been working with today had been an amateur one, needing so many retakes that their afternoon music video shoot had slowly creeped into a late night one, and Taemin had not bothered to stay back to have his makeup sorted out or to grab a bite with the other dancers later. He missed Jonghyun when it came to things like this. He was far better at dealing with people, but he took on far less projects than Taemin, content with less pay but more time with his boyfriend Jinki. Taemin on the other hand never refused any offers– he loved dancing, and he had nothing better to do anyway.

Taemin sighed, opening the door—

To find another pair of shoes at the entrance.

“Kibum?” Taemin questioned in bewilderment. He was sitting on Taemin’s bed, all the lights switched off, and staring out of the window at the view– which was just the neon signs on the shops he lived opposite to. Taemin had never given him the passcode to his new place, but Kibum must have guessed correctly that he had set it the same as their old one. The date Kibum had asked him out for the first time.

“You’re back.”

Kibum’s angular face was washed in the pink and blue hues of the lights, lending him almost an eerie glow. He still hadn’t turned to look at Taemin.

“Uh yeah.” Taemin slung his backpack off his shoulder. “I didn’t know that you would be coming today? Did I forget something?”

Kibum chuckled, finally looking at him.

“It’s not like I exactly plan on coming here. I just—” Kibum paused, “Forgot to text you about it. You look pretty. Music video?”

Well, Taemin was glad he hadn’t taken off the smoky eyeshadow after all.

“Yeah.” He sat beside him. “What’s up?”

This whole situation was alien to Taemin. Kibum post-Minho breakup came around to Taemin's place to vent, which usually ended up in Taemin being bent over his bed. There was always this fire in Kibum, the one that made Taemin weak in the knees and lose to his vices.

But Kibum in this moment reminded him more of his last few months living with Taemin. Which was sad, even desolate.

“Taemin. How are you?”

Taemin took a sharp breath. That was a loaded question. How was Taemin? Successful? Definitely. Happy? Absolutely not. But that was nothing Taemin wasn't used to.

“I'm okay.”

Kibum let out a hum of disapproval at his answer.

“I have revealed almost all the aspects of my life to you, and I realised I barely know about yours anymore. I never asked if you were seeing someone when I kissed you, or if you were okay with me coming over like this. I just took everything you gave me.”

“That’s because I wanted you to take me. In every way.”

It was the most honest answer he had given in a while.

When Kibum glanced at him now, there was hunger in his eyes again. It made Taemin forget about his exhaustion– instantly casting away the thoughts of going to sleep.

Taemin closed the distance between them, hands gripping Kibum's shoulders for support when he pushed Taemin down on the bed, climbing on top and leaving hot, open mouthed kisses on his jawline.

“You know what hurt me the most when we broke up?” Kibum slid his hands up Taemin's t-shirt. “The fact that you didn't fight for me. You never ran after me when I moved out. Even when we're fucking, you're pushing me to go to Minho. Do you really hate me that much Taemin?”

Taemin moaned, unable to speak while Kibum mercilessly played with his nipples. He knew he was extremely sensitive there. It was almost like he didn't want Taemin to answer.

“You deserve better than me Kibum,” Taemin breathed out when Kibum relented, “Minho treats you better.”

Kibum yanked him up roughly by the collar, his sharp eyes flashing with rage— and pain.

“And who are you to decide what I deserve?”

“Nobody.” Taemin gasped. Kibum pulled his shirt above his head, latching his lips onto his collarbone. “Absolutely nobody.”

“Good. At least you're self aware.”

Things progressed quickly after that, as they always did. One moment Taemin was on his back, and the next moment Kibum was on his', with Taemin riding on top of him. Taemin could feel his body scream with the exertion, but the burn felt good. Too good.

Even while physically being in control, it was Kibum's tune he danced to— observing the way his eyelashes fluttered when he rolled his hips just right, or how high pitched his moans were, or how tight his grip was on Taemin's waist. There was pleasure in pleasuring Kibum.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” Taemin babbled, “I’m sure you missed me in bed.”

Suddenly Taemin was flipped over, legs pried apart as Kibum took control again, picking up a ruthless speed. A string of curses and groans left Taemin's mouth, hands grasping to clutch the sheets to ground himself.

“Fuck. Kibum—”

“It’s not only the bed I missed you in.”

Taemin’s ears rang as he came, so much so that he even thought he had imagined what he had heard.

If not for the fact that Kibum could not meet his eyes when he cleaned up. That his voice sounded distant when he told Taemin how beautiful he was, and asking where he kept his cleanser so he could help him out, because he knew that Taemin would be too wiped out to even stand up anymore.

Taemin fought hard to stay awake while Kibum cleaned the makeup off his face. He had so much to say, so much to ask– but all he could focus on was Kibum’s humming, and his deft fingers that had taken him apart only moments before, but were now putting him back together, one swipe at a time.

“Kibum–” Taemin whispered drowsily when he heard the sound of a jacket being zipped.

Kibum shushed him.

“Sleep for now, Taemin.” The sadness in his voice was back. “We will have time to talk.”

But Kibum as a person was far more evasive than he let on. He was better than Taemin at confrontations, yes, but that wasn't exactly a compliment. His merit lied in the trait that he wasn't completely passive, unlike Taemin, who would ignore the problem until it went away, but he was just as awful at expressing his feelings— a fact Taemin was reminded of when Kibum didn't turn up at his house for over two weeks. They had not established a routine, or even talked about what they were– it was just implicit that Kibum would show up, and Taemin would be there, because that's what he did.

Taemin felt pathetic, truly, for being so seemingly attached to him already. And the intensity of this attachment truly hit him when he stood in front of Kibum's boutique, hands fidgeting with his sweater as he watched Kibum through the glass front displays, charmingly talking to a customer inside. Taemin should not have come here, but he was in the area, and the temptation to see him was too strong. Now that he had a taste of Kibum again, he craved more of it. He missed him.

It was fascinating to witness him here, outside the four walls of his home. Most people had two different smiles– one for work, and one reserved for home. With Kibum, the lines between them were blurred, because he truly loved what he did. When the lady pointed out something on a dress, giggling at Kibum, the smile he gave her in return was disarming. Taemin had to stop himself from gasping out loud– it had been such a long time since he had seen Kibum like that. Bright eyed and beaming so much that the small dimples on his face made an appearance too.

He could not stop staring even when Kibum walked the customer out, thanking her for her visit. Taemin whipped around for a place to hide, but it was already too late, and Kibum had spotted him.

“Taemin? What are you doing here?”

Some part of Taemin was relieved that Kibum did not sound like he was rebuking him, but most of all he felt panicked.

“I was in the area, I thought—”

Kibum sighed, “You have never been a good liar Taemin. Just come in.”

Taemin nodded, following him inside like a lost child. His boutique had undergone a lot of changes since the last time Taemin had been here, which was more than a year ago. It had expanded by renting out more shop space, with better decor and more ready-to-wear, as opposed to mostly custom pieces, as Kibum had been doing before. It was hard to imagine it was from the same Kibum who was studying with him in university, dreaming of one day having his collection in Paris Fashion Week. He was yet to realise that dream, but he had made it to Seoul Fashion Week this year, so Taemin didn’t think the idea of Kibum being a world renowned fashion designer was as far fetched as Kibum seemed to think.

“What are you doing here?” Kibum repeated in the privacy of the small room at the back that served as his office. Bringing him here to talk was out of habit he supposed, since Kibum had only an assistant employed at the boutique premises– one who was absent at the moment, probably owing to the late hour. He wondered if Minho visited Kibum too, and if they made out here; Kibum seated on the desk and Minho standing between his legs, kissing him while holding his waist, in just the way Kibum liked.

“Taemin?” Kibum prodded.

He shook off the green tinted images in his head.

“I was thinking we could grab dinner?” Taemin blurted out.

Kibum narrowed his eyes.

A few moments passed in silence. Taemin thought of retracting the offer and stepping out— he felt silly anyway.

“Fine. Go outside and give me five minutes to close up.”

The restaurant Kibum took him to was a BBQ one, a ten minute walk away, and far less fancy than the joints Kibum liked to post about on his instagram. There was something intimate and familiar about the way he grilled the meat and dropped them on Taemin’s plate, something far more heartbreaking to Taemin than the sex had ever been.

“Are you and Minho back together now?”

Kibum paused, shooting him a sharp look.

“Why do you say so?”

“You haven’t been around. I thought you must have finally patched up after all.”

Kibum shrugged, poking the pieces of pork with his tongs again.

“I have been busy. It’s not like I have to explain myself to you– we don’t have anything going on.”

They didn’t. But here they were still, sharing dinner and bottling up their thoughts.

“So how is he?”

“How is who?”

“Minho.”

“You know it’s funny– for the six years we have known each other, now the only thing we can talk about is Minho, who has nothing in common with us.”

“I have something in common with him. We are both your exes.”

“Not for long.”

Taemin looked up in surprise.

“I plan to talk to Minho this week when he comes back from Italy. So you won’t have that in common with him much longer.”

“Right,” Taemin reached for the glass of water, swallowing it along with the lump in his throat, “Congratulations. I’m sure it’s going to go great.”

“Yeah,” Kibum mumbled. “And I think it’s time to talk to you too. I wanted to apologise.”

“For what?”

“For crashing into your life like this. I shouldn’t have used you as an outlet for my frustrations.”

Taemin couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that left him. Right. An outlet was all he was.

“An outlet you could plug right into. Am I right?”

Kibum scoffed. “I don’t like the joke. I’m serious about this.”

Taemin rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Do you want me to say that I’m disgusted with you for using me? Or disgusted with myself to let you do it and even encourage it? That I’m still in love with you and regret every second of the time I didn’t appreciate you? That I’m a better man than I was before, and if you asked me again now, I’d say yes to eloping to New York to be legally married to you, because even if the certificate would not be valid here, we would still be husbands?”

Kibum looked stunned at his outburst, and Taemin was numb. He couldn’t feel his fingers when he picked up his phone from the table, and pretended not to hear Kibumn pleading for him to just wait as he walked out of the restaurant to meet the biting autumn wind.

He just hoped Kibum had not followed him outside, because the last thing he wanted Kibum to see was his tear stained cheeks. Preferably, Kibum really did think of him as nothing more than an outlet, because then his confession wouldn’t change a thing. Because then Kibum would go back to Minho, and live his life in simple domesticity, something that Taemin would probably never be able to give him, because it wasn’t in his nature, despite staying fully committed to him.

He walked and walked till his legs gave out, and he squatted down on the sidewalk for a few minutes, feeling dizzy and disoriented. The dam of his emotions had finally burst open, and he felt pitiful but also so relieved now that it was all out in the open. Maybe this could help him move on from Kibum, or maybe even start with the simple step of changing the damn password to his apartment. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Taemin sighed. Maybe they could both learn to be happy without each other.

“Taemin, where the hell is your focus?”

He knew he had messed up way too many times for someone like Jonghyun to take that tone with him. Taemin groaned and rubbed his eyes.

It was a simple task. Shoot a video for the prospective choreography to the song they had been sent from the agency. The choreography had been done, rehashed and finalised. Now all Jonghyun and he needed to do was to record a guide for it. But apparently Taemin was now incapable of doing such tasks.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. I’m going to do better next take. I just keep forgetting—”

“Taemin,” the frustration had been replaced with concern, “What’s going on? You really haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine,” Taemin lied.

“You’re not. We are clearly not getting anything done now. Go home. I’ll record the guide by myself.”

“It’s a duo performance—”

“Shownu knows the choreo too. I’m just going to call him to fill in for you. Okay?”

Taemin sighed in relief. He really was not in the right mindset, had not been for the whole week since his confrontation with Kibum really. He muttered a small thank you and sorry to Jonghyun once again before he left, looking forward to the long nap he would take back home, in his bed that reminded him too much of Kibum, and the mirror that gave him too many flashbacks, the makeup cleanser that he couldn’t use anymore without feeling his touch—

Taemin cringed, trying to dispel his thoughts by running a hand over his face as he forlornly looked at the mess of takeout containers and discarded clothes that was his apartment. But he couldn’t care less at this point— he stripped down to his boxers and threw himself on the bed, hoping to drift off into a dreamless sleep, since Kibum wasn’t leaving him alone in those either.

“Taemin”

“Mhmh”

“Taemin—” an urgent shake.

“What is it?” He mumbled, having a hard time wading through the lethargy to register his bearings, or the fact that he should be alarmed at someone waking him up, considering he lived alone.

Wait, he lived alone.

Taemin’s eyes flew open, sitting up so fast that it gave him an instant headache.

“Woah, woah slow down there. It’s okay.”

“Kibum?” His voice came out garbled, he knew, and he also knew he wasn’t looking the best either judging by the dark outside since Taemin would have been sleeping for absolute hours at this point.

Kibum though, was immaculately dressed as always. Pretty in a baby pink shirt and blue jeans. Faint BB cream on his face and chapstick on his lips. Eyes peering at him in concern.

“Hi,” he greeted unsurely, “Sorry for waking you up, but I’ve been here for an hour and you were sleeping so much like a rock that I got nervous.”

“You’ve been here for an hour?”

“You should really change the passcode.”

Taemin’s mind was way too sluggish for this conversation. He blinked rapidly, and pushed back his hair, reaching for the hair tie on his bedside table to hold it back. In a way he was glad they were conversing while Taemin was still half asleep— he wasn’t sure if he could even look at Kibum properly if he had all his mental faculties.

“I was too lazy—” Taemin stopped himself. What was the point of pretending anymore? “I didn’t want to change it.”

Kibum sighed, “I thought as much. I talked to Minho by the way.”

There was no energy left in Taemin to muster up even a reaction anymore. This is what he had wanted right? For Kibum to be happy?

“That’s nice. Guess Minho and I don’t have anything in common again.”

“You still do. Because me being the ex still depends on what your actions will be.”

Taemin sucked in a sharp breath, “What do you mean?”

“Do you know the real reason why I broke up with him? It was guilt. Guilt because—” Kibum’s voice broke. Taemin scooted closer to intertwine their hands, his heart thundering in his chest.

Kibum cleared his throat, starting again. “Guilt because it was not him who I wanted. It was you. He was the rebound, and he is too decent a person to be used like this. I came to you, to check if you were still as indifferent as the day I left, just so I could confirm that you were, and I could move on for good. But you—”

“But I was so fucking whipped for you wasn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Kibum chuckled. “You were. But I had no idea of knowing if you genuinely wanted me or just the memory of me. You kept telling me to go back to Minho—”

Taemin’s head hung in shame.

“I fucked up so bad Kibum. I lost you. I don’t want to do that to you again.”

“And you are no one to make decisions for me Taemin. I talked to Minho. I found an apartment to rent. He is my ex. Now I give you the choice to not be mine anymore.”

Oh.

“Whatever that is you are offering, I’m in.”

Kibum stared at him, before blooming into a bright smile. Directed at him. The smile was only for Taemin. He had caused that.

Taemin was on cloud nine.

“You are such a fucking dork Lee Taemin. You haven’t changed one bit.”

“I don’t want to change,” Taemin shook his head, “I want to be your dork. I—” Taemin’s words choked up in his throat.

But Kibum understood. Kibum always knew.

Kibum leaned forward to kiss him, holding Taemin in his arms as a sob tore through him. Tears ran freely, from both of them, while they kissed in desperation, Taemin finding purchase in Kibum’s shoulders as he pulled him closer and closer till they were chest to chest.

“I’m sorry Kibum,” he gasped out, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Taemin, just— just love me enough this time.”

“I will. I do.”

“Then that’s good enough for me.”

—The End—