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Entry tags:
insomniac and dreaming ; [1/1] ; 2min
Title: Insomniac and Dreaming
Pairing: 2Min (Minho/Taemin)
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~1500
Summary: There are things we dream on rain-drenched evenings, and there are things we think we dream. And sometimes we don't know the difference.
Notes: light incest
Rain fell thick against the windows, and Taemin turned another page of his book. Stared at the page. Put the book down, glanced around guiltily to see if anyone had seen, and then hastily picked it up again, pretending to be engrossed in the words. Groaned, shut the covers with a quiet thump, and tossed it back onto the table. "Done?" His brother's voice crept up from behind him, startling Taemin into kicking the small table over, the book tumbling onto the floor. Taemin looked up to see dark eyes staring back down at him, amusement written in the creases. "Hyung," he whined, nudging the offending book with his foot, "it's boring." The corners of Minho's lips twitched slightly as he reached over Taemin to pick up the book, flipping thoughtfully through the pages. "I thought the part where the dog followed the boy up to heaven was touching," he mused aloud. Taemin nodded earnestly in agreement, eager to prove himself. "It was, hyung! I thought so too. The end, right?" This earned a chuckle from Minho. "Of a different book," he said, grinning when Taemin's face fell at the realisation of having been neatly trapped. Minho tapped the book lightly against the top of Taemin's head before uprighting the table and taking a seat besides the younger boy. Outside, the streets glinted a washed out orange overlaid with a muted sheet of grey, the evening complemented by the early streetlights and the wet sheen of water. The sky was hidden behind dusty old cotton blankets which had obscured the once-a-day change from the realm of sunshine to the kingdom of starlight a mere hour or two ago. The rain still fell heavily against the windows, a constant stream of water another layer against the glass. Inside, Taemin had let his head fall against Minho's shoulder, as they watched the rain fall against the windows. "I wish things could always stay like this," he said in an almost-but-not-quite whisper. His words hung in silence between them, no reply joining them nor snatching them away. A slight pressure on his knee told him that the older boy had heard, and Taemin placed his hand on top of Minho's. An action to give comfort, but it was comfort that he was taking. "Do you think they could?" he continued wistfully. "If you didn't have to move away, if I didn't have to go to boarding school, if mother wasn't going overseas for work and..." Minho said nothing as Taemin trailed off, because what wasn't said in those words was a constant reminder in what was said every day - in the raised voices and heavy silences, the packed bags and empty rooms. "If it stopped raining," he added after another beat. Taemin wondered if maybe, just maybe, the rain would stop. Because if it would stop, then maybe (just maybe) it could stay like this, then (maybe) Minho wouldn't have to move away, then (maybe) he wouldn't have to go to boarding school, then (maybe) things would stop falling apa- - and the last unfinished thought was so ludicrous even to himself that Taemin let out a little laugh, and still the rain fell. "We're leaving in the morning," Minho said in reply to that, as if Taemin didn't know. "I know, hyung", Taemin said in reply to that, as if Minho didn't know that he knew. "Listen to your teachers, and don't forget to study," Minho advised. He sounded so serious and grown-up that Taemin had to frown a little at that, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. Another chuckle from the older boy, before silence once again presided. "I'm going to miss you, Taemin-ah," Minho said quietly, finally looking away from the window to meet Taemin's eyes. It was quiet; so quiet that it was buried underneath the rain outside and their breaths inside and Taemin would have had to strain to hear if he didn't know what Minho must have said. And since he knew that Minho knew that he knew, it was in a just as quiet voice that he said "I know." Minho's fingers were cool against his skin. Taemin jerked back instinctively as the distance disappeared between them, head whipping about to look behind him. "The door's locked" Minho reassured him, and kissed away Taemin's usual protest of "We shouldn't, hyung." The unspoken this isn't right had long since melted away into a constant veil of guilt. Taemin's fingers crept up until they threaded through Minho's hair, roughly pulling the older boy even closer than they already were. He could feel a heartbeat through his skin that was not his own and fingers in his hair that were not his. The light brush of fabric against a shoulder bared by a pushed up sleeve, and the nearly bruising crush of lips against lips. Thought fled in its advance, whatever it was. Taemin had never been sure. He'd never been sure if Minho knew either. Eventually, the dizziness that accompanied this particulard brand of shortness of breath prompted them to pull apart, Taemin's chest heaving. "I don't want things to end," he said, tone thin, fingers clutching at the fabric of Minho's shirt, dampness overtaking his palms. "Things end," Minho said quietly. He stood and looked down at him - looked as if he were seeing him for the first time. Taemin's lips were parted slightly in the manner of children who wanted to speak without knowing what to say, cheeks flushed a light pink. Hair dyed a light brown clung to slight jaws and pale skin while the scent of youth clung to the dim sparkle in his eyes. He looked away, back to the rain that still fell against the windows. "I don't want it to," Taemin repeated - a little petulantly this time. "I don't want things to change, and I don't want tomorrow to come. But..." he trailed off again, and this time, Minho prompted him to continue. "But?" Taemin worried at his lip, fidgeting where he sat. If one looked, they would've seen the thoughts tumbling about inside his head, worries painting themselves across his furrowed brows. When he opened his mouth to speak again, the thoughts tumbled out as words all jumbled and quick with all the consideration one could expect. "But sometimes I wonder if I'll wake up and it'll just be a dream, and none of this will happen and everything works out - " and here the jumble stopped as Taemin felt suddenly aware of Minho's eyes on him and his words slowed " - but works out wrong." "They won't," Minho said, and for some reason, Taemin felt inclined to believe him. "Go to sleep," he added, as he headed for the door. "Don't go," Taemin cried impulsively, reaching out to tug at a sleeve - and he was aware of how silly this all was but couldn't bring himself to care. "Sleep here with me." Minho shrugged, and within minutes they were both tucked under the blankets, pressed against one another back to front. "Good night," Minho whispered into Taemin's hair. "I'll finish the book tomorrow," Taemin promised, leaning back a little into Minho's chest. When his eyes drifted shut, Taemin thought that he saw the rain stop. "Oi, Taemin!" A voice pulled him out of his nap, and Taemin raised his head just enough off the table to see who it was. "Ah, hyung," he said sleepily as Jonghyun came barrelling through the door of the study room. "Is there something you wanted?" Jonghyun made a face, and pulled Taemin up by the wrist. "Come on, come on. I've been looking everywhere for you! Someone saw that thing you did - you know, the one with the rain and the dogs or something that's up in the second floor hallway - and wanted to know who'd painted it and I told them that I'd find you and in the end you're napping here!" Taemin gathered from Jonghyun's lightly disgusted tone that this had been the last place he had looked. "Sorry, it's the only place that's quiet," he laughed. "Was quiet." "Rascal," Jonghyun groused, tugging him out the door. Taemin followed him down the hallway - and stopped. Dark eyes oddly familiar stared at him from over Jonghyun's shoulder, catching him by surprise so firmly that he didn't notice Jonghyun turning to see why Taemin stopped, didn't hear Jonghyun ask him what's wrong, didn't see Jonghyun notice the owner of those dark eyes and wave at him saying 'guess who I found!' Instead, as if from out of a dream, all Taemin heard was an oddly familiar voice go along with those oddly familiar eyes as it said "hello, I'm Minho," and a feeling that something was wrong but maybe it would be right as his own voice stammered out "T-taemin." And maybe it was months later or maybe years before one of them or the other voiced something that shouldn't have been voiced in a quiet moment after the rain had stopped – but for now Taemin found himself caught in familiar eyes he had never known, and wondered if he had been dreaming after all. |
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that was, that was, wow.
i liked this, i was kinda confused at the end but i figured it out >.>
awesome~~!
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Hahahaha ;; I'm not very good at making things clear. I'll just, uh, sit over here and hope you figured the right thing out : D (Although I did leave it a little open ended for a few interpretations ;;;)
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<33 totally love it bb
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and i loved this. you have such a talent for writing surreal/transcendescent stories and i seriously had chills at the end. i adore stuff about deja vu, the feeling of having met in past lifetimes etc (not sure if that's what you meant?)
this was breathtakingly beautiful :) ♥
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I'm glad you liked it! This was the first 2min I wrote and it was kind of off the cuff and a "let's find out if Tamu can still write something under 2000 words" thing ;; And yes! A past lifetime... or alternate lifetime. Something like that haha. I'm in love with playing with time/space as well, it's just so fun.
And yeah, they were, although what matters more is that they thought they were... whether or not they were or weren't pfft.