#taems having job stress nd parent stress and just general life stress (tm)

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; Safety; PG

idk i was thinking about taem smoking for some reason

tw for smoking

“Hey,” Jonghyun says when he gets back outside. Taemin perks up immediately behind the fence, eyes automatically zooming in on the white box in his hand. “It’s sealed, but they’re probably still stale,” he says as he hands it over.

ao3

From: Choi 3:24pm No fucko it’s a real honest real life set of pink weights right here in the middle of the sports store up to like 50 lbs do you want me to buy them for you or not

To: Choi 3:25pm i still dont believe u send me a pic

From: Choi 3:25pm You Know my phone camera is broken

To: Choi 3:26pm suspicious

From: Choi 3:27pm Oh My God

“Hey, uh, excuse me?”

Jonghyun blinks and looks up from his phone, looking around his tiny backyard for the human that voice came out of.

“Jonghyun, right?” it says, and Jonghyun turns to his left to find his neighbor leaning up against the tall iron fence that separates them. His black hair is a little messier than his usual soft mop and his little hands grip the bars of the fence nervously.

“Uh,” Jonghyun says, sticking his phone into his pocket. “Yeah, hi, Taemin,” he says. “What’s up?” he asks. He’s always cool to help a neighbor, even one he’s only spoken to one or twice before when they just happened to see each other. Taemin gives him a weak little smile, but looks down quickly, biting his lip, before looking back up.

“Okay, I know this is gonna sound really weird, and sudden, and sorry if it makes you uncomfortable or anything, but, uh,” he starts. Jonghyun grimaces, not liking where this is going. What the fuck. He doesn’t think he wants to know what kind of request will follow that kind of preface.

“Can I bum a cigarette off of you?” Taemin asks. His cheeks flush pink as he says it and his fingers clench open and closed on the fence, a look of shame and guilt, but Jonghyun just raises his brows, surprised.

“Oh,” he says. That’s much less weird or unsettling than he was expecting. He’s a little relieved, honestly, but that emotion is quickly pushed away to make room for regret. “Um,” he says. “I don’t smoke?” He hasn’t for a while, ever since he quit a few years back.

“Yeah, but you used to, didn’t you?” Taemin asks. He leans closer, shoulder pressing up against one of the iron bars. “Don’t you have, like, a safety pack or something?” He pouts that, almost whines it in desperation, and Jonghyun gasps softly.

“Heck,” he says. “I do, actually, shit.” He stands up from the little table he was sitting at, pats his pocket to make sure his phone won’t fall out, and frowns a the ground, trying to remember where he put it. He thinks… in the kitchen, maybe. Yeah, in the kitchen, on top of the box in the fridge because it was easier for him to avoid grabbing one if he knew he couldn’t reach it easily. “Give me a minute, hold on,” he says, holding up a finger to Taemin before hopping up his little porch steps and heading back inside.

He jogs to his kitchen, pulls out his stepping stool from behind the recycling bin, and nudges it gently in front of the fridge. A little stretch and a lot of feeling up around old dust later and he finds the package, grabbing it triumphantly and hopping down. He blows dust off of it and rubs it against his pants as he walks back outside.

“Hey,” he says when he gets out there. Taemin perks up immediately behind the fence, eyes automatically zooming in on the white box in his hand. “It’s sealed, but they’re probably still stale,” he says as he hands it over through the fence.

“Yeah that’s fine,” Taemin says quickly. He fumbles with the plastic wrapping, pulling it open and clumsily taking one cigarette out. It’s then that Jonghyun realizes that he forgot to also grab a lighter, but Taemin pulls one from his jacket pocket. Without wasting a second he brings the stick to his lips and lights the end of it. Jonghyun watches as he takes a long, slow drag, eyes closed, other hand gripping his lighter tightly.

After a few moments, Taemin lowers his head and blows the smoke towards the ground, away from Jonghyun, towards his own house. Jonghyun appreciates that. Cigarette smoke is weird for him in that it both repulses him and makes him start having his old cravings again at the same time. Taemin takes another silent drag without looking at Jonghyun. This time, when he lets the smoke out, he just opens his mouth and lets it puff out. Jonghyun watches him sniff it all back in through his nose, mildly impressed. He never could nail the french inhale himself.

“Thanks,” Taemin mumbles then. He blows the rest of the smoke out before looking back up at Jonghyun through the bars. He hands him back his box of cigarettes, then halfway covers his mouth with a sweater paw before he speaks again. “I’ve been trying to quit too, but I’m a little, uh. Stressed. At the moment,” he says. He shrugs guiltily. “I already went through my own safety.” He lifts his cigarette under his hand for another drag as Jonghyun tsks sympathetically.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks. He’s always down for a feels jam. Taemin snorts, though, the air coming out of his nose as smoke, and shakes his head.

“Talking makes me more stressed,” he says. “I just internalize all of my shit and smother it under apathy and bad jokes until I can get to dance practise on Thursdays. Or smoke, I guess,” he adds, lifting his cigarette an inch. Jonghyun snorts. He figured that part out already.

“Yeah, well,” he says. “I hope you feel better.” He really does; Taemin always struck him as a really nice dude whenever they had a brief neighborly chat. Taemin smiles weakly back.

“Thanks,” he says. “If you start wanting to smoke again or something because of me I’ll buy you dinner to apologize,” he says.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jonghyun says. He looks at the little pack of nicotine in his hand. Now that he’s remembered he has this he’s going to be thinking about it a lot more than usual. “I’ll even let you kiss me on that first date if you don’t taste like cigarettes,” he grins. Taemin cocks a brow back, tapping ashes onto the concrete below them.

“Since when is it a date dinner?” he asks. He leans closer, lips tugged up into a little smirk, like he thinks Jonghyun is going to be flustered or something.

“Since I told my boyfriend you were pretty cute a few months ago and if you ever asked I was totally going to take you up on it,” he says. He has nothing to be ashamed of. Taemin laughs softly, shaking his head and looking down so he can take another drag.

“We’ll see about that,” he says. He blows a clumsy smoke ring towards the ground, coughs, sniffs, and looks back up. “Anyway, thanks, again,” he says, holding up his cigarette. “I gotta. Go back to dealing with my stress, so.”

“Mmhmm,” Jonghyun hums. “Good luck,” he says. Taemin pushes off of the fence, waves, and turns to shuffle back into his house, cigarette smoke trailing behind him.