#year6;

december 1977. sixth year. outside the great hall, hogwarts.

Of course this would happen to him with just two days of the term left. In two days, Regulus would be off on a train to Kings Cross Station and reunited with Kreature who would bring him back to 12 Grimmauld Place. He could hardly wait. Not really. Regulus could think of other places he would like to spend his Christmas holidays. With his parents was not one of them. No, in fact he would currently like to be in the Great Hall at the Slytherin table eating supper, but instead he stuck in the Great Hall’s entry way with a mistletoe hanging above his head.  

 This mistletoe was charmed, and now that he was trapped underneath it he could feel the magic radiating off the plant. “Fucking bastard.” He muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowed as he stared longingly into the Great Hall. Thankfully nobody really noticed him in this embarrassing situation, they were too busy tearing into their Shepard’s pie. ‘I hope you choke,’ he thought when his eyes landed to where the Marauders were sitting at the Gryffindor table. It was all their fault, Regulus knew this ‘prank’ had Marauders written all over it. What he didn’t know, however, was the countercharm. If there even was a countercharm. Some charms like this one kept on until they were meant to serve their purpose, which was to trap two people underneath until they kissed. Only then could they go on their merry little way.

april 1978. sixth year. quidditch pitch, hogwarts.

It was almost pathetic the way his body sank into the Earth, the grass serving as an outline for his slender frame as he laid unmoving in the mud. The sky was dark and cloudy, and the rain freezing as it poured from the dark starless canopy and landed hard on his body, on his face, washing away the sweat that had matted his dark hair to his forehead almost an hour ago. His clothes were soaked and dirty, the back of his robes soiled brown from the mud. Next to him laid his broom, his lithe fingers were still enclosed around the dark wood as he stared upwards into the night.

 The Quidditch Pitch was empty, all except him, and it was just the way he liked it. Flying was the best way to take his mind off of things. He could release the golden snitch and fly around the pitch seeking it at his leisure. Granted, it never took him too long to find it but by time he did he was usually put back in a right state. It didn’t work this time, however. His thoughts were as loud as the scream still ringing in his ears, and every time he saw a glimpse of the snitch’s golden wings fluttering tauntingly at him, he could only see a pair of dark lashes fluttering, before their owner’s amber eyes turned lifeless.

 He had killed last night on the orders of Lord Voldemort. A task he was given specifically because he knew he had yet to prove himself to his Lord after eight months of service. Eight months of being a Death Eater, and seven of them were spent regretting it. He was only sixteen years old, but under Voldemort’s control he had seen too much disturbing and unnecessary violence, too much pain and suffering and heard way too many cries, and pleas and promises strung together in exchange for lives. Sometimes the Dark Lord was forgiving, other times he was merciless. Last night, for example…

“Please tell me you accidentally fell asleep and you’re not just being a ginormous dick.” With that he’s being pushed from the plush, cozy Slytherin couch to the cold and hard dungeon floor. Taemin knocks into the table as he falls and a few of his books spills on top of him.

 “Wha--“ he groans from where he lays, blinking his eyes open just for his view to be invaded with the image Kibum and Minho hovering over him. Minho looks a bit amused while Kibum is narrowing his eyes and looking at him expectantly. Taemin is dazed and in a frazzled, half-sleep state and it takes him awhile to really register what is going on.

 “You’re late for your date.” Minho explains when Taemin still doesn’t understand the meaning of his friends waking him up while he’s sleeping peacefully. Sleep was something he didn’t get much of so when he was able to get something in, it was very much appreciated.

 “My da--shit. Jonghyun?” and then he’s up from the floor before Kibum can even blink an eyelash. He grabs for his wand discarded on the couch and banishes his potions book from the common room up to his bedside table. “What time is it? I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

 And now he’s actually grateful for his rant to Minho and Kibum after supper. It was in their dorm when he gave them a spark note version of what transpired on the Astronomy Tower the previous night, leading to their conversation in the corridor and his invite for tonight (leaving out the part where they kissed. He wasn’t ready to tell them that yet). He had weighed the pros and cons of inviting Jonghyun to spend time with him on the tower, part of him regretting it as he’s never invited anyone up there with him before, not even for a quick snog. It was his spot and he liked to be there alone. Inviting Jonghyun was mere impulse, running off of his unwanted feelings alone.

 It would be a lie if Taemin said he wasn’t looking forward to tonight. He still didn’t trust Jonghyun, but he liked spending time with him. Even if there was ulterior motive on other’s part, Taemin was dead set on finding out what he wanted with him while enjoying every second of the male’s attention. It was a case where he was willing to allow himself to be used, mostly because this was Jonghyun Kim and he would never get the opportunity to kiss him again once he’s got what he wanted.

 There was no time for him to fully get ready because by time he’s run up to his dorm to throw on a cloak and make a grab for the Ice Mice he same day ordered from Honeydukes, he was already twenty minutes late. His hair would just have to remain tousled, and his clothes wrinkled (thankfully the cloak would cover most of it), and he didn’t even have time to wipe away his eye boogers (he would have to do that on the way to the tower because he really couldn’t meet the guy of his dreams with boogers in his eyes).  

 It’s not long after his rude awakening that he leaves the common room, but not before hearing Key’s complaint of “I swear to Merlin for someone so intelligent he lacks common sense and basic understanding of human feelings..” Taemin wasn’t that incompetent, and he understood people quite well. People were easy to read, for the most part. That Jonghyun Kim was just difficult and Taemin was too emotionally invested to look at him without some sort of personal bias getting in the way. Yeah, that was it.

 It takes entirely too long navigating his way through the castle, his lit wand guiding the way. He’s not worried about being caught, Taemin could come up with a lie easily and most of his professors wouldn’t question him one bit. He was too much of a teacher’s pet for that. The paintings on the wall are another story, they get snippy with him and threaten to go inform a professor that he’s out pass curfew as payment for disturbing their sleep with the luminosity of his wand. If Taemin had the time he probably would’ve threated to burn them. But right now getting to Jonghyun was much more important because twenty minutes late has turned into thirty-six minutes late and he feels like such an arse.

-he wraps his arms around his body in attempt for some added warmth, his robes that were thrown over his pajamas wasn’t doing much. But it was a cold November night and that was to be expected, the idea of a warming charm sounding ridiculous since he decided he wasn’t going to stay long. That was roughly forty minutes ago;

-the astronomy tower was a place of solace for the Slytherin ever since his third year. He doesn’t remember what made him want to spend half his night on the tower but he did, and the view was much more beautiful than anything he had seen during his Astronomy lesson. And it wasn’t just the stars and the moon that lit up the nights sky, it was everything else, too. The view of the grounds below, the forest, the lake. The silence was a little eerie sometimes but once he got used to it -- it was so much better than being in his dorms listening to the other boys snore. Being up here was liberating, freeing. He didn’t have any pressures, any expectations, any stress. He could just exist. A lone boy seeking comfort in the night. Kind of poetic, once he thought about it;

-and Taemin thought a lot, about everything in his life. His parents, his beliefs, his sexuality, his school work, his social status, Quidditch, Jonghyun, what he wanted to do post-Hogwarts, if he should have waffles or pancakes for breakfast, whether or not he needed to restock on liquorice wands, if anyone at Hogwarts would be good enough to be his future wife. Mostly about Jonghyun, though. It was nice to think away from the influence of everyone else, to come into his own and figure things out without people talking in his ear and trying to manipulate him;

-being up here did have it’s drawbacks, for example he could only be here during certain hours since classes were held every Monday through Friday night. Weekends were fair game but sometimes other students would come up here to snog. Usually he’d just give them detention and send them on their way. This was his spot. No one was going to get it infested with their bodily fluids;

-tonight’s thoughts took him back to Sunday. His potions session with Jonghyun that ended with a kiss, and not just one of those ‘brushing of the lips, quick little peck’ type of kiss. It was a soft chaste kiss that lingered on his lips for days and left him craving more from the other. It also left him a little confused, too. Jonghyun Kim was an enigma by his standards and Taemin just couldn’t figure him out. Sometimes he thinks Jonghyun doesn’t like him, that he’s just tolerating him for the sake of his potions grade and then other times he’s being attacked by the softest pair of lips and being stared at with the most mesmerizing eyes and made to feel so special--only for Jonghyun to turn around and ruin it. Whatever it is. Taemin just doesn’t get it and begins to think he never will, but he wants to try, if only because he could spend more time with the Gryffindor, not because he actually think there’s hope for the two of them to become something, but because he loved getting to know Jonghyun and not having to badger Kibum for information when he ;

-a little over 24 hours since their last meeting, Taemin sits in the Potions classroom, feet on the table, arms crossed over his chest, and a deep scowl etched into his face. He was early as per usual, having arrived to the classroom a good thirty minutes beforehand to set up for his tutee. It was better than being holed up in the Slytherin common room pacing about as he watches the clock tick down until he had to go meet the Gryffindor;

  -he wasn’t able to get their last encounter out of his mind and spent most part of last night into the early morning over analyzing the situation. It was only when he passed out with the help of a dreamless sleep potion could he rest easy. He spent the majority of today trying not to think hard about the Gryffindor and he succeeded until it was time to get ready for his lesson. Still, his heart leapt at the thought of spending time with Jonghyun, and he hoped it would go over smoothly;

"…shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down? Oh, you fill my head with pieces of a song I can't get out…"

 “Will you quit moping around like a child?” Kibum exasperatedly throws himself onto Taemin’s bed uninvited. The other Slytherin boy just looks at his sprawled out form blankly, closing his Transfiguration text book with a loud snap. “It’s unattractive and petty, not to mention bloody annoying. You’re a right mess, Taemin.”

  Taemin wants to argue but after two long days of doing nothing but lying in bed, working on missed class assignments, he pretty much agrees with Kibum’s assessment. He’s still mad, though, mad enough that he hasn’t had a conversation with Kibum in days and Minho whom is tired of his and Kibum’s bitching has been keeping his distance. Taemin is just tired of everything.

  “I wouldn’t be a right mess if you’d erase my memory.” Not all of his memories, of course, but the memories of his feelings for Jonghyun. Taemin wanted to forget everything that had to do with the Gryffindor because he thinks he’d be better off without them. Kibum doesn’t agree and refuses to give into the request. As skilled as he was in memory charms and would love the practice, he didn’t fancy trying out the charm on his best friend. There was no reason Taemin needed part of his memories altered, and his desperate request still pissed Kibum off.

  Kibum buries his face into the other’s green and silver duvet and screams. It’s muffled, but it still causes Taemin to cringe. “You don’t get it do you?” he asks once his face is not deep in the cotton fabric of the duvet, there’s a dark, curious look in his eyes that Taemin can’t make out.

  “Apparently not.” His voice is dry and void of emotions as he sets his book aside. “Explain it to me,” This is the most they’ve spoken in two days, and while Taemin didn’t want to have this conversation, he needs to have this conversation. Because being held up in bed avoiding Jonghyun, and Kibum and most of the student body hasn’t been doing him any good.

  “How do I say this in terms that you can understand?” he’s talking to himself and Taemin knows better not to answer because it would just be met with the most sarcastic reply and he was not in the mood. He drew his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he rests his chin on his knee. The urge to kick Kibum off the bed was too real, but instead he held back his impulses and waited for the other to continue.  “You’re one of the smartest in our year, but sweet Merlin, you are also the most oblivious person I know.”

  Taemin clears his throat and narrows his eyes. “Is there a point to this, Kibum?” Because he really didn’t feel like being insulted at this present moment, not while there were still memories and feelings involving Jonghyun swarming through his mind and beating in tune with his heart.

  “Jonghyun is good for you.” Taemin splutters caught off guard by the statement that Kibum stated with simplicity that sent his mind reeling with confused thoughts. Jonghyun is good for him? Good. For. Him. Him? Taemin? His stomach lurched into his chest.

  “Since when was crushing on someone who hates you good for a person?” he tries to keep his voice steady, though there was a nervous edge that he knew Kibum could sense.

  Kibum breathes a loud sigh of “Can you blame him?” there’s a thick seal of silence that covers the room. Taemin couldn’t blame Jonghyun for hating him giving their history, but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less.  “You don’t care about anyone or anything unless they’re pureblood or can benefit you in some way. Jonghyun doesn’t like you because you’re an annoying brat who insults and hexes his friends, you walk around with your nose stuck up in the air as if you own the world and everyone should bow at your feet when you pass by, you’re friends with people like Cavanaugh, you repeatedly stick your tongue down girls throats without feeling any sort of attraction for them, and have this reputation as a manwhore. Who the bloody hell would like someone like that?”

  Taemin’s quick to respond, nostrils flaring as he kicks his feet out and angrily pushes Kibum off of his bed. The boy falls with a loud bang and curses shoots out of his mouth, mixing in with Taemin’s “Get out and leave me alone.” Kibum scrambles up from the floor, holding onto his elbow as he shoots Taemin a look of pity, but the prefect turns his head and pretends not to notice. “I said get out!”

  Kibum leaves with a shake of his head.

  --

  There’s food on his nightstand, like there is every night after supper. Kibum loyally brings all three meals to him because even if they’re fighting he still takes care of Taemin like a brother. If he didn’t, who else would? Well, there was Minho but Minho was busy planning for the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw in two weeks, and without his seeker present there was a lot of slack he had to pick up during practices. There was also Jieun, she had been by to visit him a few times thanks to Kibum sneaking her in. He hated that she had to see him in this state, but he played up to his whole being sick thing. The whole castle believed Taemin to be sick, why else would he miss classes and prefect duty? There was even a rumor going around that he died. Jieun was trying to hold back her tears when she told him about that one. Taemin smiled and laughed at it, mostly as a way to calm her down and reassure her that he would be perfectly fine and wouldn’t be dying anytime soon. It was only Jieun’s smile and her comment of ‘I know’ as she wiped her eyes that made him believe that maybe he really would be fine.

  Kibum sits down on his bed once again uninvited, this time keeping his distance from Taemin who was biting into a turkey on rye sandwich. “You’re nasty and mean. You pretend like you don’t care about anyone and act as if you have no weaknesses. You don’t show your emotions well, you always hide behind this mask. If he were to hate you, can you blame him, Taemin? He doesn’t know anything beyond what he sees.”

  It’s food for thought, but Kibum states things that Taemin had thought about earlier once he was alone and left to his own devices. Jonghyun didn’t know him, their first meeting had been at the tender age of eleven and heated words were exchanged and Taemin may have threated Jonghyun’s sister without hesitancy and regrets. Eleven year old Taemin was different compared to sixteen year old Taemin, and sometimes he felt as if he were a different person entirely. Jonghyun wouldn’t have known that Taemin changed a lot as he got older, that he had a new viewpoint and different opinions. “I’m not like tha---“

  “I know,” Kibum cuts him off and scoots closer to Taemin, gently patting his leg. “I know that, and so does your other friends. Jonghyun doesn’t know it; he doesn’t know what you’re like. You haven’t shown him. You can’t blame the guy for not liking you, and you can’t get upset when he causes you to lash out or act differently because of your feelings. If you like him… you should do something about it or just let it go.”

  “I’m trying to let it go! I’ve tried so hard, Kibum, but I can’t. It’s unbelievably impossible for me to do so.” Taemin sets his plate aside and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning his head back against the headboard as he looks up at the ceiling, letting out a breath. “That’s why I’ve asked you to erase my memory.”

  Kibum uncrosses Taemin’s arms and takes his hand in his, his thumb rubbing over the back of Taemin’s hand in gentle circles. “I can’t. I refuse to. You’re my best friend and I will not let you fuck things up by taking the easy way out. I’m already spoiling you by bringing you food when you need to get off your arse and fucking do something with your life instead of laying here and crying about how some boy doesn’t like you.”

  Taemin pulls his hand away as if he’d been burned, and maybe he had by the sheer fire in Kibum’s words which hit him hard. if there was anyone who would tell him the uncensored truth, leave it to Kibum Kim.

  ----

  The next day he wakes up to the smell of waffles and Kibum shaking him with force, he only stops once Taemin’s eyes are completely open and he’s glaring daggers into him. “C’mon, don’t be like this, Taem! It’s waffle Thursday.” There was no such tradition as waffle Thursday, but allow for Kibum to create something random and completely stupid like this in an attempt to get him out of bed (because he knew that’s where this was leading).

  “Fuck you and your waffles.” He lifts his blanket to cover his head and buries himself into his pillow with a groan.

  “Hey now! Waffles are Jonghyun’s favorite breakfast food!” As if Kibum needed to tell Taemin that. “They’re also covered in strawberries, just how he likes it.” Taemin knew that too. He knew it because he had Kibum ask. Most of the information Taemin got about Jonghyun was secondhand, it was either from Kibum or something he had come to assume on his own. It was sad, really, because he knew all these things about Jonghyun and none of the information had come straight from Jonghyun’s mouth and into Taemin’s ears.

  It almost makes Taemin feel as if he doesn’t have the right to love Jonghyun.

  “Taemin…”

  “What!?” it’s an annoyed yell muffled into his pillow, because he’s still tired, and he’s hurt and he wants to sleep until he feels better, but he can’t feel better until Jonghyun is no longer in his mind and for that reason he figures he must lay here and sleep until Christmas break and he can go home and sleep some more.

  “Listen to me,” Taemin doesn’t move an inch and tries to stop his stomach from moving as he breathes. Maybe Kibum would think he’s dead instead of going on with some stupid shit he doesn’t care about. Didn’t he know Taemin was still mad and didn’t want to be bothered? “I know you’re used to keeping your feelings under wraps and pretending to be an emotionless git, but you’re also human; a depressing, mopey one, but human nonetheless. Humans feel things, all sorts of things even if they don’t know the name for it. Maybe you feel too much right now, and it’s hard for you to block it away and hide it… but erasing your memory is the easy way out to a temporary problem. I know that’s a lot for you to handle right now, but it’s going to be okay, Tae. You don’t always have to be strong, or be this responsible person who has to have his life in order. You’re sixteen, for fuck’s sake, you have time to figure this shit out. And you will figure it out.”

  Kibum not only leaves him with much to think about, but also leaves him with an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach that not even waffles can fill. He wishes his puppy was here to keep him company because he doesn’t want to cry alone anymore, but he does anyway, only stopping when sleep claims him once more.

  ----

  “So what happened?” Kibum asks again that night, sitting a bowl of soup onto his bed as Taemin quickly reaches for the spoon. He was starving; these three meals a day were proving not to be enough for a growing boy. Taemin shoots him a questioning gaze between mouthfuls of chicken noodle. “With Jonghyun… he hasn’t been that present lately.”

  Taemin almost chokes on his soup and he feels his heart sinking with worry. “What do you mean?” he asks frantically, there’s a hint of panic in his tone that Kibum doesn’t miss.

  “I haven’t seen him around much, and Jieun mentioned that he’s been coming back to the common room really late and she rarely sees him the time in between.”

  Taemin starts to wonder if maybe Jonghyun was effected by their fight Sunday night, but maybe… maybe it had nothing to do with him. Why would Jonghyun be effected? He hated him, maybe he’s just planning a new prank. Yeah. Trying to get the finishing touches done on it so that when he sees Taemin he’ll be prepared and can humiliate him. Taemin tries to ease his mind with excuses, but his shaky hands give away just how nerved he was. “Ji’s a first year, what would she know?” but maybe she knew more than he wanted to let on. She was smart and keen and clever. There wasn’t much anyone could get passed Jieun.

  “It’s just an observation.” Kibum extends the goblet of pumpkin juice towards Taemin, who takes it gratefully and sips from the cup, trying not to spill the juice because his hands were still shaking. “You’ve both been out of it since your tutoring session.”

  The news upsets Taemin because he wanted to believe that Jonghyun was fine, that he was completely unaffected by their altercation and was going on with life as if Taemin hadn’t existed. Taemin was gone now, hiding himself away from the Gryffindor. It was supposed to make things easier for everyone, but apparently that was a disappointing fail too.

  “We had a fight…” and then Taemin tells him everything and by the end of it he’s crying remorsefully with his face buried into Kibum’s shoulder. 

  ----

  It’s Friday when Taemin finally wakes up at his normal time but instead of going for his normal morning run, he settles with lying in bed until he hears the other boys in the dorm starting to wake. They shower and then they leave. It’s quiet and he basks in it for a few more minutes before he falls out of bed. He isn’t pushed like he was one morning when Minho was fed up with him lying in bed all day, but he rolls out all on his own. He stands on his own, too, and makes his way to the shower.

  The hot water feels relaxing as it rains down on his skin and washes away the dirt of yesterday. Hygiene charms, while useful, didn’t compare to an actual shower. Taemin showers twice as long as usual and he’s reluctantly to leave. He has the time, however, because breakfast is still in progress and there’s an hour till his first class.

  He takes his time getting ready, making sure he looks his best. It was the first time anyone would be seeing him in days and he had to make a good impression; his hair was combed neatly, tie on straight, prefect badge pinned proudly on his robes. He still had a reputation to uphold.

  “I was right in what I said a few days ago. Jonghyun is good for you.” Kibum and Minho are in the doorway, watching as Taemin loads his books into his bag and places a feather light charm on it so it wouldn’t be overly heavy. The sixth year isn’t at all surprised by the company and he won’t admit it but he’s happy that they’re here and waiting for him. “You spent your whole life living in this fantasy world where your parents are royalty and you’re a prince who owns the whole world all because of your blood and how pure it is.  Then you grew up and you realized that your blood status doesn’t mean much, neither does your family name. You fall in love with this boy who goes against everything you and your family stood for; he takes you out of your comfort zone, challenges you, and makes you feel all these different things, good and bad and everything in between.  He practically drives you insane, if we’re being completely honest, yet you still can’t stop thinking about him and caring for him, and if this whole little dramatic episode didn’t get through to you then I don’t know what will.”

  Kibum is right, like always, but Taemin would never let him know and instead turn to face his friends while slinging his bag onto his shoulder and stuffing his wand into his robes pocket. “Will you shut the bloody hell up, Kim? We’re going to be late for Potions!” and with that he struts out of the room.

  “Hey,” he’s quiet as he’s walking down the steps with mild hesitancy. There’s an urge to turn back and dive into his bed and hide himself under his sheets, but he doesn’t. He decides that he has to face this, to face Jonghyun and all of Hogwarts and his professors who will want some explanation as to why he’s been skipping out on classes. They know he’s not really sick even if he’s pretending to be and if they ask he has to come up with some excuse off the top of his head because the truth will not be efficient in a situation like this. He’s not worried about his professors, but moreso worried about seeing Jonghyun again.

Taemin’s slowly torn from the dark peaceful lull of sleep when his bedroom curtains are unapologetically ripped open. “Rise and sh--oh.“ He remains unmoving, the comfort of sleep graciously pulling him back in.

  Kibum stands there; freshly showed, hair combed and his uniform on perfectly. His brows are furrowed and his hand is placed on his hip as his bow and arrow shaped lips become pursed. Taemin isn’t in bed, and he’s not in the shower or in the common room either. Kibum hadn’t seen other come back from Potions tutoring last night, but he had come back to the dorm. The wand poking out from the bed sheets was enough of an indication. Taemin wouldn’t have gone very far without it, and he was never forgetful of his wand.

  It was odd. But Kibum reluctantly pulls the curtains, about to shut them completely when he stops noticing the knocked over vial that was on the bedside table, and the drawer that was ajar. It was curious. “Where the bloody hell did you run off to, Taem?” He murmurs in wonder and concern, pulling the curtains to a close.

  [x]

   The next time he wakes up it’s on his own accord. Too late for a morning run, one class missed, one currently in progress and he doesn’t even care, burying his face into his pillow. He wasn’t ready to face the day, much less face Jonghyun. There was no one he wanted to see right now, and there was no where he needed to be besides in his bed. Classes would go on fine without him, and the work that he missed was probably completed in his notebook.

  Taemin was feeling the aftereffects of last night. It was like a hangover; his head throbbed, his body ached, his mouth was dry and his throat feels raw, stomach queasy, and the room looked like it was spinning every time he opened his eyes. He was still facing exhaustion, as if however many hours he had slept hadn’t been enough for his body to recuperate from his emotional breakdown. Emotions, ah, they sure did take a lot out of a person.

  Thankfully Taemin had a potion for things such as hangovers and knew it would work for his symptoms. His only probably was getting it, it was nestled under his bed in a small metal storage along with some other potions that he had saved. While he could use his wand to summon it, he didn’t feel like moving. He decides to deal with his uncomfortable symptoms, because he’s too exhausted to do anything that requires moment or speaking, plus he’s pretty sure he’ll fall asleep in the next few minutes because he’s just that tired.

  He’s right, as sleep claims him only eighty-six seconds later.

  [x]

  Their lips are locked together in a heated kiss and Jonghyun’s bare chest is pressed against his own. This kiss is nothing like their first because there is no hesitancy, no regrets, no running away. There’s also the possibility that sometime between then and now Jonghyun has gained more experience and has become extremely skillful with his tongue and his hands and his everything, and Taemin is eager to learn the tricks of the trade.

  They’re in Taemin’s bed with the curtains drawn and Jonghyun is on top of him straddling his waist, their clothes are scattered on the floor save for their underwear and Taemin has never gotten this intimate with anyone ever. He wants things to go further; he wants to give himself to Jonghyun in more ways than just in heart and mind. He wants to be his physically, goddamnit, even if it was only for one night, and nothing was going to stop him.  

  Taemin’s the first to make a move. Hands sliding into Jonghyun’s briefs as he unshamefully gropes his ass and presses his pulsing erection--which was already leaking with precum and soaking a spot into his underwear--into Jonghyun’s, rolling his hips upwards in a fluid motion. The searing friction causes Taemin to feel as if he was on fire, and Jonghyun’s explicit moan is echoed into his mouth and ringing deliciously in his ears.

  “I fucking told you he wasn’t here, Minho!” Taemin and Jonghyun’s activities are interrupted and before Taemin could give Jonghyun one last look, the image fades from his mind and Taemin is left alone in the darkness of his mind.

  Minho says something in rebuttal to Kibum, but Taemin is too annoyed to pay attention. He’s awake now, annoyed that his dream went unfinished as he turns in his bed; the annoyance of being interrupted from his dream nothing compared to the tent aching painfully in his pants. Great, he had morning wood--or--afternoon wood? Taemin shifts the blankets to cover his little problem until his friends went away. Fuck, this was embarrassing, but Taemin was too hungover on Jonghyun to care.

  “Go away!” Taemin croaks out and Kibum arches a perfectly shaped brow. He and Minho had both seen the blanket move, so they had known someone was there but hearing Taemin’s voice now confirmed it.

  “You’ve been in bed all day, you arse!” Kibum’s first instinct is to curse at Taemin, he had been worried sick all day, even skipped one of his classes to go around and look for his mate.

  Minho’s amused, pulling out his wand and giving it a wave, Taemin appears, blanket covering most of his body save for his face. His hair is unkempt, and his face looks swollen and blotchy.

  “You alright, mate?” Minho sits down at the edge of the bed, reaching over to feel Taemin’s forehead. “You feel a hot, are you sick?”

  “You better be sick with how worried I was,” but Key’s voice lost all of his annoyance at the sight of how pitiful Taemin looked. “I’ll castrate you if you play that shit again. Why would you hide yourself? All you had to do was say you were sick, you know I would’ve stayed and made sure you were alright.”

  Taemin shifts because he’s uncomfortable and his erection didn’t make this matter any better. He doesn’t know what to tell them, but telling them about Jonghyun isn’t an option, so he lies. “I think I’m catching the flu, I just didn’t want to go to the hospital wing and I don’t have any potions here that’ll help. Don’t worry, I just need to rest for a few days.”

  “Do you want us to go raid the hospital wing?” Minho suggests. “Kibum can do that and I’ll go to the kitchens, grab some soup and juice. Maybe see if they got some liquorice wands.”

  “Would you? Also, can you owl the professors? All of them. I think this might last for a few days.” Because Taemin wasn’t in the mood to deal with Jonghyun anytime soon, and it was about time he had a little break, from Jonghyun, his classes and his extracurricular activities.

  “Consider it done, Taem.” He feels lips brushing against his forehead, and without seeing he know it’s Kibum. Kibum tried to be a hard ass, but he was one who cared most deeply about his friends.

  “Hey-- you’ll get sick.” Taemin mutters, playing along with his sick story as he wipes his forehead.

  Kibum just laughs and he feels Minho stand up from the bed, “so? Unlike you I’m not afraid to go to the hospital wing if I’m under the weather.” With that they’re gone, and Taemin waits a few seconds before prying his swollen eyes open, and slipping from his bed and heading straight into the bathroom stall to take a cold shower.

  [x]

  He feels a little more like himself after his shower, but he still feels drained and empty. There’s a lot he has to think about but he doesn’t know where to begin. Now that he brought himself a few days away from the Gryffindor he needed to come up with a plan on what to do about him. Preferably on how to successfully avoid, stop overthinking about, and now to stop dreaming about him. It wasn’t the first dream the prefect had about the tri-colored hair boy, and it wouldn’t be the last. Getting over Jonghyun had never worked in the past, and any attempt that he tried now wouldn’t be good enough. Jonghyun was quicksand and from the very moment they met, Taemin had been sinking deeper and deeper into him. Now he was waist deep and there was no possible way that he could escape unscathed.

  He can hear loud footsteps coming up the dorm stairs and Kibum’s unmistakable laugh, he sinks deeper into his duvet as he waits for his friends to join him. The door creaks open and they step inside, the smell of chicken noodle soup hitting his nose and upsetting his stomach. He hasn’t eaten anything today, but he wasn’t sure if he could hold the soup down with how nauseous and weak he felt.

  “We have tea, and juice and soup, liquorice wands aaaaand potions!” Kibum sings out, drawing back the curtain all the way around his bed. “Oooh! Looks like Quidditch does do a body good,” his eyebrows are wiggling suggestively when he catches sight of Taemin’s bare chest.

  “You think that’s something, you should see mine.” Minho carefully sets the floating breakfast tray down on the bed before he starts to flex his muscles causing Kibum to reach over and give it a squeeze.