by Aidan Wayne
An x-ray later and he had his leg tightly wrapped with instructions to do the minimum on it for at least a week, and no heavy exercise or lifting for at least three. Follow up with the doctor after. So Taemin went back to his hotel feeling pretty miserable.
He decided against letting anyone know. He was flying out that night anyway, and so would be back in Michigan before Sunday. He’d done that on purpose; the less time away, the better. And he had cleared his whole Sunday to make sure he really had time to recuperate.
He’d certainly need the time now, he thought, with a touch of bitterness.
The other thought was how much he wanted to see Marcus and apologize and be told that things would be okay.
MARCUS GOT a text from Taemin at about nine thirty that night.
Home, it said. I hope you’re doing well.
Marcus swallowed. Can I ask how things went? Is that okay?
Are you free to talk right now?
Yeah, Marcus replied immediately. Yeah, of course.
His phone rang. Marcus fumbled to accept the call. “Hi,” he said quietly.
“Hello,” Taemin said. He sounded tired.
“How… how did it go?”
“Very well. I made to the last round.”
“Oh! Oh wow, that’s—that’s great. I… was it the last round?”
“No,” Taemin said. “I didn’t compete. I got a medical bye.”
Marcus’s heart leapt into his throat. “What happened?”
There was a heavy sigh. “I did very well,” Taemin said again. “There was a mishap in the thirteenth round. I was able to win the fourteenth as well, but that put too much stress on the injury. I was told I could fight and break my leg or that I could take the bye and compete again in four years.”
Break his leg? That was terrifying. “Wow I… I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. I….” A pause then, so long it made Marcus ache. “I did what I set out to do. I competed. I got as far as I did. I just….”
“Could I come over?” Marcus asked. “If you want me to. If—if you maybe would like someone around. If you don’t, then—then of course, but I don’t know, maybe? I just—if you want me to. I’m here.”
“It’s okay. It’s late. You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” Marcus said in a rush, already going to put on his shoes. “Please, I—if it would help, please let me.” Please let me be there for you. And please let me see you again.
“Then I’d like that,” Taemin said after a moment. “Thank you.”
Marcus grabbed his keys and wallet and hurried to his car, making the drive in less time than he should have. But no one pulled him over, and then he was going up the stairs to Taemin’s floor and knocking on his door, and nothing mattered except making sure Taemin was all right.
Taemin was quiet as he let Marcus into his apartment. He had a pronounced limp as Marcus led him over to the couch and sat down with him, not touching him past holding his hand, waiting to see what Taemin wanted to do.
They sat in silence for a long time before Taemin opened his mouth. “I worked so hard.” The words were quiet. “I worked so hard and I got so far. I did so well. I was going to do it. I knew I was.”
Marcus had no doubt about that. “I know.”
“But—but the idea of doing it again in four years… of pushing that much and being so tired and stretched so thin…. That’s so daunting. I—I don’t know if I could do it again.”
Marcus swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Taemin shook his head. “I have so many other things in my life. It’s okay. I keep… trying to tell myself that. I only have so much time. I want to make sure I use it the way I want to.”
“Yeah.” Marcus nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
Taemin went quiet, looking pensive. “I think I’m going to go to bed,” he said after several minutes. “Would… would you stay with me?”
“Of course.” Not even a question. “Of course. Come on.”
It was Marcus who tugged Taemin to his feet and led him into the bedroom. They undressed in silence, and then Taemin climbed into bed, holding up the covers for Marcus to slide in next to him.
Taemin turned into him then, pressed his face into the crook of Marcus’s neck and shoulder. Marcus brought his arms to hold him, stroking one hand through his hair.
That was how they drifted off.
TAEMIN WOKE up warm, Marcus’s arm draped across him. They’d moved in their sleep so that they were back to chest. Marcus curled around him. It was a very pleasant way to wake up. It—it would be nice to get that a little more often. With, perhaps, less of an awful reason leading to it.
He took a deep breath and gingerly sat up, moving away from Marcus, who slept on. Taemin took a moment just to look at his sleeping face. He was so, so lucky to have Marcus in his life. And he was going to talk to him about how much he wanted things to work. Being away from him had made him realize how much he missed. Not even the distance, but the fact that they hadn’t talked through it.
He still wanted to discuss the fight. Why he’d reacted the way he had. What Marcus had said that—that wasn’t okay. But he knew already that it was just a little bump, easy to overcome.
Walking the short distance to the bathroom was still painful, and the first thing he did was down a painkiller before he went to brush his teeth and take a quick shower. When he emerged from the bathroom about ten minutes later, it was to see Marcus sitting up, covers pooling around his waist. The morning sun almost made him glow.
He was so beautiful.
“Good morning,” Taemin said, limping over to the bed so he could rewrap his leg.
“Hey,” Marcus said sleepily. He leaned forward to press a kiss to Taemin’s temple. “Morning.”
“Thank you for staying with me.”
“There wasn’t anything I wanted to do more.”
It made Taemin’s breath catch. “Do you have to work today?”
Marcus shook his head. “I filmed yesterday, so I’m off today. Back to the grind on Monday. You?”
“I don’t have anything to do today. Except contact people about what I can and can’t do for the week.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
Taemin shook his head. “I’ll get past it. Right now all I want to do is recover.”
“What happened at the trials? You, um, you didn’t really go into detail last night.”
Taemin stood to hobble over to his closet. “An unfortunate turn of events had my opponent’s elbow meet my shin,” he said as he pulled on his clothes. He had to prop himself against the wall and move very carefully to pull on his bottoms. “It bruised the bone. But nothing cracked, so I count myself lucky.”
“Fuck,” Marcus said. “I’m so sorry. But you’re okay? You—crutches?”
“I didn’t want them,” Taemin said. “I felt they’d inhibit more than help. I should be okay as long as I take it easy.”
“Take it easy, huh?”
Taemin sighed. “I know. I’m going to do my best. I’d like to talk to you about it some more too.”
“Okay,” Marcus said easily. “Why don’t I get ready and then we can go out for breakfast?”
“Okay.”
Taemin found Marcus a toothbrush to use, and then Marcus took his clothes into the bathroom to change back into after his shower. It was only a few minutes later that he emerged to find Taemin sitting on his couch and staring at his phone.
“Everything okay?” Marcus asked.
Taemin shrugged. “I haven’t told Preeti or Mr. Avi yet. I want to. I’m just not sure how. I don’t want to paint what happened in a negative light. I went and, in a way, I won. I just… also didn’t.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Marcus said. “Maybe over breakfast? Do you have a place you’d like to go?”
“I’d kind of like to go to the Pancake House,” Taemin admitted.
Marcus smiled. “That’s a good plan. Let’s do that.”
MARCUS DROVE them to the Origin
al Pancake House. Because it was Sunday there was a bit of a line, but at least neither of them had anywhere to be. Taemin leaned against him to take more weight off his leg, Marcus’s arm curled around his shoulder.
On Marcus’s end, he was wearing a ballcap pulled low over his eyes and just hoped no one noticed him.
Twenty minutes later they were seated in a booth and had ordered, waiting for their food.
“So,” Taemin said after a moment.
“So,” Marcus agreed.
“I’m sorry again. About how I acted on Thursday. How I spoke to you. What-what I said. I know it really hasn’t been that long but I—I value your opinion. And I know you were just concerned.”
“I’m sorry too,” Marcus rushed to say. “You were working so hard and I was so worried, but I never should have said that you shouldn’t compete. I just—I just worried, and you had scared me. You know your own limits. It’s not my place to try to police you.”
Taemin shook his head. “No, you… you were right. About some of it. Preeti and Mr. Avi have been saying the same things for years. I do often have trouble slowing down enough to realize that I need to stop. I think I just became so focused on winning and making a good showing, doing what I could to prepare, that I got a little lost.”
Marcus nodded.
“I’ll try to pay attention to myself more. And—” Taemin sighed. “—and if I want to make time for certain things, that might mean that some other things might need to be compromised on.”
“Yeah?”
“For instance, if I want to see you as much as I can. Which I do! But that might not be realistic sometimes.”
“Like trying to squeeze in a few hours in between a day’s worth of classes and an evening exhibition?” Marcus asked wryly.
“Like planning my time a little bit better, so that I have some more wiggle room,” Taemin allowed. “Compromising on how often I commit to things like my own tournaments and travel, if I do at all.” His father’s legacy aside, Taemin had enjoyed getting back into the competitive circuit. But it required so much of him. He could make those choices. He would.
“Hey,” Marcus said gently. “I think you’re forgetting something, though.”
“Yes?
“You don’t have to do it all yourself. Who ran the school while you were gone Friday and Saturday?”
“Preeti came in special on Friday to work, and Mr. Avi did Saturday on his own,” Taemin said, brow furrowed. “And they had assistant instructors.”
Marcus nodded. “You’ve got support. And they’ve got keys. You could stand to take a night off once in a while. And, okay, I won’t pretend that I’m not hoping you’ll spend that night off with me, but even if you just need to give yourself a mental health day, that’s important too.”
Taemin bit his lip. “You’re right. I know you’re right. I just… I haven’t been in that mindset for so long.”
“No time like the present, right?”
Taemin nodded, expression rueful. “But I probably still will go back to old habits at least once in a while. I need you to be patient with me. And tell me in ways that don’t sound like I’m… like I’m not good enough.”
Marcus swallowed. “I’m really sorry I came off that way.” No wonder Taemin had been furious. “I’ll do my best to be better.”
Taemin smiled at him. “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirteen
TAEMIN AND Marcus spent the rest of Sunday quietly. They went back to Taemin’s place and he did some correspondence work—much of it letting people know about his injury and what he was able to do for the next few weeks—while Marcus made a few phone calls and looked over some paperwork of his own. They went to pick up some groceries (Marcus insisted on driving over walking over, and he was the one who pushed the cart), and they made lunch together. They watched a movie, spent some time reading their own things.
It was very domestic, and Taemin wanted so many more days like it. Just… quiet moments in between the rush where he had someone to be with. That he didn’t need to do anything but have someone to be with.
Now they were back on the couch. It would probably be time to make dinner soon, but for right now they were curled up together, both on their phones, not needing to speak—just being with each other.
“What time do you have to be on set tomorrow?” Taemin asked. He himself had contacted all his early-morning sparrers to let them know he was cancelling classes for the week, just to give him some more time off the mat. He’d referee next week, and hopefully actually be back in the ring himself come July.
“Nine. Not too bad.” Marcus waved his phone. “We’re filming out in Detroit all day, though. I’m going to melt into a puddle.”
Taemin chuckled. “Please don’t. I think it’d be very difficult for me to kiss a puddle.”
“Well, I mean, if you tried real hard….”
Taemin laughed and shifted just enough to kiss the corner of Marcus’s mouth. Marcus caught his chin to kiss him again, a little more thoroughly. When they pulled away, Taemin smiled shyly up at Marcus, decision made.
“I’d like to see more of you,” he said. “And… and I know that having me go to bed late and wake up early isn’t a good way to do that.”
“Really not,” Marcus said, voice wry.
“So… so I was thinking….” Taemin took a breath. “It really would be easier if we started and ended in the same place, at least once in a while.”
“I….” Marcus’s eyes widened. “What?”
Taemin shrugged, trying for nonchalant. “If you wanted to spend a few nights here. I—I’d like it if you did. Just to spend some more time together. I know that we’re still new, but… considering our schedules I just… wanted to offer.”
“Are you kidding? Yes. Yes. I’d love to.”
“All right,” Taemin said warmly. “Why don’t we figure out how that’s going to work?”
“MORNING, BILLY,” Marcus said, meeting him on set Monday. “How’re things?”
“About the same as they were when we saw each other Saturday,” Billy said. “Did you have a nice day off?”
Marcus beamed. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” And more to look forward to; he had an overnight bag already packed and waiting at his short-stay apartment. He’d be swinging by the dojang after classes that evening to keep Taemin company while he finished up for the night, and then they’d be driving separately over to Taemin’s place, where Marcus would stay over. He’d get to go to sleep with him and wake up with him. He couldn’t wait.
Billy squinted at him. “You’re surprisingly chipper, compared to Saturday. I’m guessing things went well for him? Did he make it?”
“Oh, uh… actually no. He didn’t.”
“Oh.” Billy seemed unsure of how to react. “I’m… sorry. But you’re… not upset?”
“We talked,” Marcus said. “And… and things are good. He’s bummed about the loss and fuck, I’m bummed for him, but he’s trying to use it as a chance to, like, reevaluate some of his schedule. And training routines.”
“Oh,” Billy said again. “That sounds promising.”
“Yeah,” Marcus enthused. They’d spent some more time talking over Taemin’s schedule, and where and how he might be able to give himself some more rest. Even if not regularly, but on a possible week-to-week basis. “We’re hoping it’ll be a good thing.”
“It’s good that there’s a ‘we’ again,” Billy said after a moment. “You were moping pretty hard.”
Marcus shrugged good-naturedly. Billy wasn’t wrong. “I’m glad that there’s a ‘we’ too.”
“THAT SUCKS,” Preeti said with feeling, when she came in and saw Taemin’s leg for herself. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Did they disqualify the guy who did it?”
“They didn’t need to,” Taemin said. “He got a penalty for the hit, but since it was clearly not intentioned, he didn’t get disqualified. I won the match regardless. The match after just exacerbated it.”
“But you got so close,”
she moaned. “So close!”
“I know. It’s okay.” It was. He was trying to make it be. “We can’t regret things that already happened. Regret doesn’t change the past, just makes us dwell on it.”
“Right! And you got the bye, didn’t you?”
He nodded.
“Okay! Okay, so you can go back in four years. That’s not so bad.”
Taemin raised an eyebrow. “Four years is a fifth of your entire life.”
“But! It’d only be a tenth of yours, by the time you were ready to go again. You could totally do it.”
“Maybe,” Taemin allowed. “I’d have to plan my training differently, though, if I were going to try to make it.”
“Differently how?”
He sighed. “Actually take rest days for one. Real ones.”
She blinked at him, wide-eyed. “Really?”
“Really,” he said wryly. “I have been convinced that I might need to work a tiny bit harder on taking care of myself.”
“Master Choi, that’s great!” She looked so excited it was almost insulting.
Taemin rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it be said that I never made my own self-improvement. Or that I couldn’t admit my own mistakes.”
“Can I be here when you tell Mr. Avi?” she asked, eyes shining.
Taemin sighed. “I suppose so.”
THINGS SLIPPED into a pattern over the next few weeks. They both worked hard as usual, and sometimes would go for days at a time without actually seeing each other. But they texted and called in between spaces they were available. And Marcus usually spent at least one or two nights a week over at Taemin’s. They fell into the habit of spacing those nights out a little to cut down on time they spent completely apart.
And though they often spent more time in than out, taking breaks from the world after hours spent dealing with it, it was time they both enjoyed, just getting to be in each other’s company. They ended the night with dinner together—and they started making more use of Taemin’s kitchen—or a movie if they had the time, but sometimes just sitting next to each other, or more often curled around each other, on the couch doing their own thing but with proximity.