Super

07. avengers assemble (not)

It was past twelve a.m. when Jaemin heard the front door being pulled open.

He jerked upright from his seat, pulling his headphones off his neck and tossing them thoughtlessly onto his table, and wincing when they made contact. His heart was beating at the speed of a cheetah sprinting, sweaty fingers flying across the keyboard as he shut down the game in a hurry. And he was so close to completing the event, too. A shame.

It was the sound of the creaking steps that came next, and Jaemin's fear elevated. The dull orange light from his table lamp illuminated the beads of perspiration dotting his forehead; he wiped them away before switching off the lamp and jumping into bed, pulling the covers over his head and imitating an exaggeratedly dumb sleeping posture.

In good time too, because the door to his room opened a second later. Illumination flooded into the room as Taeyong leaned against the door, the lit-up side of his face contrasting with the half that was in shadow. "Don't bother hiding," he said. "I heard the bed creaking."

Stupid creaking bed, Jaemin thought as he considered his options. Should he admit that he was awake, or try his best to pretend that he was completely innocent? He gave up, pulling down the blanket and sitting up in his bed so he faced Taeyong. "I think I need a better bed."

Taeyong's lips thinned as he looked at him, folding his arms over his chest. "Jaem, I told you to go to sleep by eleven."

Jaemin's eyes narrowed. He pushed his cotton-candy hair away from his eyebrows, dully noticing that the edges of his hair were damp with sweat. He'd managed to lose track of time again. "Don't act so high-and-mighty," he said, looking at his brother pointedly. Well, not his biological brother, but his brother nonetheless. "You've been coming home even later than usual. Forget going to bed by eleven, you don't even step into the house by then."

Taeyong's expression turned guilty, and Jaemin's lips fashioned themselves into something imitating the teenager version of a pout. "Look," he started, then hesitated, brow furrowing, "it's something important. I'm doing this for both of us."

Jaemin watched the way he spoke, observing the tiny details that would probably be overlooked by someone who didn't know Taeyong. The slight tightness in his expression, the slurred rs, and the shadows under his eyes. Granted, the shadows looked like they practically belonged on his face, but Jaemin knew this was only because Taeyong stayed up late a lot, juggling work and college at the same time.

Jaemin often felt guilty when he looked at his brother, mainly because he knew that Taeyong was doing it for both of them. He had done so for the past few years, being the only parent and only family Jaemin had ever known, somehow keeping a roof over their heads and feeding a growing adolescent at the same time.

He sighed, tipping his head back to hear the satisfying way his neck spine cracked, and his pink hair fell back into his eyes. He needed a haircut. "Sorry," he mumbled, voice sounding low and gravelly to his ears.

Taeyong's eyes flashed as he heard him apologize, and he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he said, uncrossing his arms. "For always coming home late. But that doesn't mean I will hesitate to ground you if you stay up all night gaming again."

"You can't ground me if you're not home," Jaemin countered, grinning.

"Watch me," he replied, a ghost of a smile playing over his lips like a candle's tiny flame wavering in the wind. For a moment, Jaemin felt pleased to have been the one to bring it, however small, to his face. "Now go to sleep. You have school tomorrow."

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"Don't you have school, though?" Kai asked Mark, who was sitting directly opposite him in the minivan.