“Look, is the thing about Key still bothering you?” Minho asks tentatively. They’re slumped on a bench beside the drink machine outside the practice room. Minho was sent out because he’d hurt his foot on set a couple of days before. Jonghyun has absolutely no excuse for being sent out and guiltily pictures the other three still working away.

“No, it’s not the thing about Key,” he sighs, rolling the ice-cold coke can across his forehead, “Although that’s not something you can just forget.”

“Because you know that it was the right thing to do, telling us. Jinki’s smart and he’s tactful when he needs to be and he’ll get Kibum help. We can all help keep an eye out and make sure Bummie doesn’t feel so bad again and it’ll be ok.” Jonghyun appreciates the effort, but wishes Minho would just stop talking.

“I know, Minho. Thanks.” Minho frowns, because that means… “I don’t have any excuse for dancing so . My body just doesn’t seem to,” Jonghyun waves his arms around, then stops when he notices the alarmed look Minho is giving the open coke can in his hand, “It just isn’t doing what I want it to.”

Minho smiles benignly, “Don’t worry hyung, everybody has bad days. At least when you make a mistake, you don’t take anybody else down with you.” That’s true. Minho always seems to knock somebody else with his long limbs when he makes a mistake and it doesn’t take much for him to land all five of them on the floor. Well, four. Taemin usually manages to remain standing.

Jonghyun finishes his coke and crumples the can. “I’d best get back to work. Not all of us have a get out of jail free card.” He spares a pointed glance at the brace on Minho’s ankle and the taller man kicks at him with his healthy foot.

When the chuckles die down, Minho insists, “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Want help getting back inside?” Jonghyun is teasing but Minho’s face shows he seriously considers the offer before bestowing upon him the most gracious smile.

“Thanks but no, I think I’ll manage.” Sometimes Jonghyun really wants to punch Minho’s overly polite, overly serious, overly handsome face. He settles for pinching Minho’s cheek.

Jonghyun lies awake, staring into darkness, mind ticking away. By the time he manages to close his eyes, it’s already light outside and he only has two hours until their schedule demands he wake up again.

He has been managing to stave off their worry but he knows Jinki and Key in particular are keeping close tabs on him. It’s really not that much to worry about; it’s just that he can’t sleep.

One morning, limbs still heavy with sleep, Jinki tells them to bring their duvets along and create a nest on the living room floor, and they make a plan of action. Judging by how awake Key is, he’s in on whatever this is too.

“I’ve did some research last night,” Jinki starts.

“Wait, you did research? I was just going to wing it,” wails Key, before curling into a ball and rolling around on the duvets until he bashes into Minho and is growled at. He unfurls and crawls onto Minho, who is lying face down and half-asleep. Minho doesn’t bother trying to shrug him off.

Jinki doesn’t even spare the two a glance. “First things first, no caffeine later than four pm. You should avoid eating heavy meals too late as well. Also, only exercise before dinner or the hormones it releases will keep you awake. Less alcohol. I know it’s difficult but attempt not to use your phone or laptop at least thirty minutes before you start trying to sleep. Only lie in bed when you’re tired, otherwise you won’t associate it with sleep…” He gives Jonghyun a weird look when the younger man raises his arm. “Uh, yes?”

“I think the train has already departed that station.”

Jinki considers but before he can say anything, Minho mumbles into the duvet, “You slept fine in Key’s bed, that one time, after you fainted. Why don’t you just share with somebody?”

“Shared? More like hogged the entire mattress. We can just switch beds,” Key suggests, his words dribbling over Minho’s shoulders.

Jinki looks to Jonghyun for confirmation and finds the usually confident man bright red and stammering. “But I was only able to sleep because it…um…smelled like you.”

“Smelled like me.” Key repeats, sitting up and giving Jonghyun a look. Minho groans at the pressure Key is exerting on his back, but it’s actually kind of like a massage in the way the older man wriggles and isn’t very heavy at all.

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep there if it started smelling like me,” Jonghyun asserts, “I only slept because your pillows were all lavendery, like your shampoo.”

“Lavendery.”

“Are you going to keep repeating what I’m saying?” Jonghyun flops down on the duvet in exasperation, and Key tsks at him then lies back down on Minho. Minho groans again.

“Ok, so you can just share with anyone, no big deal. Where were we? Oh yes. Get out of bed when you can’t sleep, leave the bedroom, and do something relaxing, such as reading or listening to soothing music. Then, when you’re sleepy, go back to bed. I’ve moved all bedroom clocks out of view because according to this website, ‘anxiously watching the minutes tick by when you can’t sleep—knowing that you’re going to be exhausted when the alarm goes off—is a sure-fire recipe for insomnia-‘”

“Insomnia?” interrupts Jonghyun.

Minho grumbles, “Of course, hyung.”

“Why, did you think this was something else?” Key adds.

“Oh. No. I just hadn’t thought it was that bad.”

They all give him a significant look at that, even, from his blanket cocoon, Taemin, whom Jonghyun had been convinced had fallen asleep again. After a moment, Jinki continues and Jonghyun gives in with a deep sigh, settling back against the sofa.

That night, Jonghyun goes to bed early. Even though he’s beginning to dread going to bed, tonight he knows he’ll be able to get to sleep quickly. The thought makes him smile as he strips and clambers underneath the sheets.

Jonghyun is drifting off when unexpectedly he feels a twitch in his right calf, like he’s over-used it, only it’s been years since they were taught to properly warm-up and warm-down. He’s never not bothered to do the stretches and gentle movements, so why is his muscle trembling? He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore it but it keeps shuddering and jumping and eventually he gives in; he sits up and reaches down to massage the underneath of his leg with his hands. Jinki has just gotten into bed after talking to their manager about something - nothing important, Jinki had assured them - and his eyes open at the shift of the sheets.

“Is your leg okay?” Jonghyun begins to shake his head, with a hint of franticness because he was just getting off to sleep and he doesn’t understand why it’s shaking like this, before hesitantly nodding as the muscle beneath his palms suddenly stills. He rubs it again suspiciously. “Ok,” says Jinki, eying him carefully but too tired to question further, “Get some sleep.” He rolls over and pulls the duvet up so only his hair shows. Jonghyun wants to cry that that was exactly what he had been trying to do when his body decided to revolt against him.

Instead he leans over and peels the blankets away just enough to press a kiss to Jinki’s temple, earning himself a soft hum and a mumble that might have been “sweet dreams Jjong”. He lays himself down, carefully placing each limb on the sheets like the woman on the yoga DVD had instructed with her soothing voice, steadies his breathing, empties his mind gradually with each exhale and spends a long, long time staring up at the ceiling before his brain finally stutters and trips into a fitful sleep.

Dawn is blossoming bright on the horizon when he wakes up. Sighing in resignation, Jonghyun takes one last breath full of Jinki’s warmth, and then carefully gets up so he doesn’t disturb him, pausing before he leaves the room on tiptoes to twitch the curtains better shut so the light won’t wake him.

He’s about to turn right and head to the kitchen, because for the first time in ages he actually feels hungry, craving carbs, but some instinct makes him turn left and head towards the bathroom. He nears with trepidation after his discovery last time. The sight that greets him is, thankfully, less horrifying, but nonetheless very unexpected. On the cold bathroom tiles, in the childish puppy print pyjamas that are too short for his long limbs, the ones Key had bought him as a joke, sits Minho, cross-legged.

“Minho?” Minho doesn’t look at him, just holds a finger up in his direction and shushes him. Jonghyun frowns, feeling affronted and thoroughly confused. Minho appears to be staring at the tiled wall and, after he’s double-checked that there’s not a spider there or anything, Jonghyun is starting to feel worried by the slightly fanatical glint in Minho’s large round eyes. He slides down the wall and plants his weary next to Minho’s.

After a while, Minho glances at him. Then, after another while, Minho says, “I’m just counting the tiles.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince Jonghyun of something, but Jonghyun doesn’t know what exactly. “It’s not weird and it’s better than puking my guts up, right?” Ah, thinks Jonghyun. “I’ll be fine in a little bit and then I’ll go for my morning run.”

“Make sure to change first,” Jonghyun comments mildly. Minho nods. He’s still not quite focusing on Jonghyun’s face.

“I always remember to change,” Minho assures him. Jonghyun is about to speak again, ask him how often he needs to count the tiles, but Minho’s gaze has been dragged back up to the wall. He watches Minho’s lips form the numbers as he counts then Jonghyun stands and dusts his off. Hesitating for a second, he tenderly smooths a spike in Minho’s hair down before heading to the kitchen.

He makes himself a cup of the awful tea Taemin bought in insistence that Jonghyun should just swear off coffee altogether until he got into a regular sleep pattern. As he leaves the disgusting drink to brew, he fills a water bottle with water and secures it to the bum-bag Minho wears for his morning runs, slipping a breakfast bar into one of the pockets, just in case.

He remembers when he used to join Minho on his morning runs, their breaths huffing out in sync, Minho reducing his stride enough that Jonghyun didn’t have to sprint to keep up. He remembers going to the gym with the taller man, how they’d tease and goad each other on; Minho always challenged Jonghyun to competitions of arm strength and always lost. Jonghyun’s proud of his arms.

Or was proud. He looks at them now; at the way tiredness is slowly, gradually, melting muscle into fat. He tenses a bicep and just that small action makes his arm feel weak with tiredness. Jonghyun wonders if he should just force himself to go, or request Minho physically drag him to the gym, but concludes he wouldn’t be able to effectively work out even if he went. Exercise requires mental as well as physical activity and Jonghyun’s kind of lacking in the mental area right now. 

His mug is half empty and the sofa has leached enough of his heat that Jonghyun can properly snuggle into warm cushions when Minho appears. His eyes have lost that ferventness, and he blushes when he sees Jonghyun.

He looks like he wants to say something, but Jonghyun cuts in first, “Your ratty old arse-bag is over there,” he points at it and feels glad for the way Minho just rolls his eyes in mock-despair, whilst the corners of his lips twitch up into a fond smile, “Have a good run, okay?”

“Thanks Jjongie.” Minho’s eyes crinkle at the sound of disgust Jonghyun makes at the nickname.

“Piss off, you overgrown infant.” Minho grabs his stuff and is halfway out the door when he suddenly spins and leans over the edge of the sofa to press his lips to Jonghyun’s. Surprised, Jonghyun mutters about almost spilling the remnants of his tea on his shirt but Minho kisses the mumblings away, chuckling happily at the reluctant groan his tongue pulls out of the elder’s throat.

When they break apart to breathe, Minho leans even closer to whisper in Jonghyun’s ear, “I really love you.” He pulls back and straightens, grin widening at the pleased flush on Jonghyun’s cheekbones.

The last thing he hears before the door closes is Jonghyun yelling after him, “Hey idiot! I kind of like you too!”

Jonghyun must have fallen asleep after Minho left because the next thing he knows is the smell of toast. He leaps off the sofa then stumbles to a halt in surprise. He…leapt?

With a whoop of joy he scampers into the kitchen and grabs the first body he comes across, lifting it off the ground yelling, “I have energy!”

Key slaps his face, laughing at his childishness, “Put me down you idiot.”

Jonghyun does so, but only after kissing Key square on the lips, pulling away with a loud smooching sound. Standing by the toaster, Taemin pretends to gag.

Jinki hums as he hooks his arm around Jonghyun’s waist and pulls the shorter man to the table, “That’s good. I’m glad.” He pecks Jonghyun lightly on the cheek. “Do you know where Minho is?”

“Yeah, he’s on his run. He set off a bit later than usual, because…uh…”

“Because?” Key questions expectantly, in his ‘mum’ voice.

“He forgot to set his alarm.” Key looks like he doesn’t quite believe him, but doesn’t push the matter.

Taemin hops up on the counter, stuffing half a slice of buttery toast in his mouth as he asks, “Wha’ we gonna do to’ay?”

“Seriously Tae?” demands Key exasperatedly.

 At the same time Jinki says, “What do you want to do?” Key looks slightly betrayed that Jinki isn’t scolding Taemin at all.

Taemin ignores Key. “Watch anime!”

“Are you ing with me right now?” Key’s face sets into a frown so unimpressed that Jonghyun can’t help but laugh. “Yah, who are you laughing at?” Key scorns, but he’s smiling, glad that Jonghyun’s awake enough to actually participate in the conversation.

“Come on,” Taemin whines, “We haven’t watched anime in ages.”

“Yeah, come on Key, don’t be a spoil-sport,” Jonghyun whinges alongside, ducking away and screeching over-dramatically when Key lashes out, pretending to hit him.

“What, aren’t you going to help coerce me?” Key throws the question at Jinki, who avoids it with upturned palms and wide, innocent eyes.

“I don’t mind either way.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“…it has to be Howl’s Moving Castle.” Key can’t maintain his annoyed frown and it slips into a begrudging smile when Jonghyun and Taemin hurrah as they push and shove each other as they run out to the sofa, calling claims to Howl’s y arse.

“You do realise Taemin will be crying over Howl’s magnificence for the next five days, right?” Jinki says, raising his eyebrows and throwing an arm around Key’s shoulders.

He presses a kiss to Key’s temple as the blonde mutters, “Howl’s mine.” They both laugh and Jonghyun bounds up to them and grabs their free hands, pulling them faster into the living room.

“What’s this?” Minho chuckles when he returns and finds them all sprawled over each other; Taemin sobbing into the popcorn, Jinki and Jonghyun debating whether Howl looks better with blonde or black hair and Key ranting to nobody about the deeper meaning of Sophie’s transformation and the film in general.

“Oh, you’re back!” exclaims Taemin, pulling his head out of the popcorn bowl and shuffling aside to make room for Minho. “On second thoughts,” he says, wrinkling his nose, “Shower first.”

“I can’t believe you started Howl without me.” Minho says, shaking his head as he trudges to the bathroom. Key cackles delightedly.

Taemin nudges him, “I thought you were against watching this”, and Key growls at him, messing up his hair.

“Shut up, you punk.”

When the film ends they sit in reverent silence for a moment.

“I will never tire of that film,” Jinki states, earning himself nods and hums of agreement all round.

“And now,” says Minho, and the rest of them groan in advance because they know what he’s going to say before the words leave his mouth, because he always says them, after every film, “Food time! Who’s cooking lunch?”

“Some chef at the Indian place,” Jonghyun replies, in the kitchen and inspecting the takeout menus stuck on the fridge, dialling the number, before anyone can protest.

Taemin rolls onto his back and kicks his feet up in the air to return the feeling to them, then stretches as only a dancer can stretch, before slinking into the kitchen to remind Jonghyun about the naan. Taemin ing loves naan.

“’M so glad Jjong feels better,” mumbles Minho as shrieks emit from the kitchen where Taemin is tickling Jonghyun into a mess of giggles and pleas for the torture to end.

“I don’t think it’s a permanent thing though,” warns Key, voice edged with sadness, “It’s just temporary and he’ll probably wear himself out because he thinks he’s got the reserves and then he’ll crash and burn and-“

“Shut up, don’t let him hear you.” Jinki scolds and Key’s lips close around the worried tirade. “Let him have fun whilst he can.”

“God, you sound like he’s going to die.” Minho remarks, trying (and failing) to lighten the mood. They’re still and silent in contemplation for a while, before Key reaches out and pulls them both closer and they hug him from both sides, Minho’s nose cold on his neck and his head tucked into Jinki’s shoulder.

“Honestly Tae, why do they always forget to invite us to the group cuddles?”

“Goddamnit, those bastards.”

“Taemin!”

“Shut up Bummie!”

“I liked hugging you better when you were quiet.”

“I’ll yell at you next Minho, just see if I don’t!”

“He’s already yelling at Minho though?”

“Taemin, don’t question your Key-hyung, his mind works in mysterious ways and we must accept that we shall never understand.”

“ you Jjong, I heard that!”

“Stop ganging up on Key!”

“Thanks Jinki. I really only love you. I just pretend to like those other bastards.”

“Oi!” 

They’re still cuddling on the living room floor, Indian takeaway boxes strewn around their nest, four hours later. Key rests his chin on Jonghyun’s thigh and wonders at the ease with which he can talk to all of them. They could lie here for an entire day and never tire of things to say. There are occasional lapses in the conversation, when people nip to the toilet or grab water for them all, or simply shift into a new position, draping their limbs over different lovers.

Once, Taemin whines about being hot, even after Minho turns on the air-conditioner, so the next time they move he finds himself kicked off the patchwork of blankets and alone. He pushes their backs and tickles their feet and they stubbornly ignore him. For all of five minutes. Then they simultaneously break and tug him back into the group, pretending they had planned to give in from the very beginning. From the self-satisfied smirk on Taemin’s face, they know he doesn’t believe them.

“I want ice-cream,” Key declares, and starts untangling himself from Jinki’s arms, kicking Minho’s ridiculously long legs off his own. “Anyone want to come with?”

“Wait, you’re going out?” Jinki sits up, frowning his ‘leader’ frown, the one that is always guaranteed to piss Key off.

“May I come?” Taemin wriggles out from Minho’s ridiculously long arms and Key helps him up then ruffles his head with a “sure thing, baby Tae”.

“Look,” Jinki’s face crumples with consideration, “I’m not sure you should just leave…at least call one member of security.”

“Jinki, the ice-cream place is barely three blocks away.” Key brushes off his concern and adjusts Taemin’s fringe beneath the peak of his cap.

“We’ll be sneaky,” Taemin promises, then throws himself flat against the wall and pretends to be James Bond. Jonghyun nearly cries with laughter.

Key just rolls his eyes. “Do any of you want ice-cream?”

“Mint chocolate!” Jonghyun requests as his laughter dies down, whilst Minho demands Rocky Road. Four pairs of eyes look at Jinki expectantly and he throws himself back on the floor with a groan.

“Fine, fine, be sneaky and don’t blame me if you get mobbed, I’ll have strawberry.”

“Yuck,” the others all say, with varying degrees of disgust and disappointment.

“ off and get me my pink ice-cream.” Jinki rolls over with a huff and Minho muffles his laugh in Jonghyun’s back.

Taemin grins and blows a kiss to the room in general but Key hesitates before rushing over embarrassedly and crouching awkwardly to kiss Jinki on the temple. Jinki blinks up at him, pleasantly startled, and the adorableness forces Key to kiss him again, and again, until they’re each other’s lips off and Taemin is whining at them to stop and Jonghyun has got bored and is in the middle of challenging Minho to a round of FIFA.

Taemin finally pulls his hyung away - it’s not his fault Jinki’s so cute, is it? - but still Key delays. Before pulling the door open he yells, “Everybody in this room, I have an announcement.” They all look at him, in some cases (Jonghyun), questioning his sanity. A radiant smile spreads itself across Key’s face. “I love you.”

He grins at the chorus of “Love you too!” that he gets in return.

(They do almost get recognised but then Key pretends to be Taemin’s girlfriend and Taemin giggles about being the guy for ages, until Key flutters his eyelashes and calls Taemin ‘oppa’, and Taemin nearly drops the multiple cones and tubs of ice-cream he’s carrying. He blushes all the way home.)

Jinki was right in saying Jonghyun would crash.

Exhaustion hits him at 7 o’clock sharp, like a dreaded yet inevitable appointment with the dentist that could not be postponed. One second Jonghyun’s helping Jinki stir the ramen, the next Minho is surging forward to catch him as he sways then his knees buckle. He’s lucky he doesn’t brain himself on the kitchen counter as he falls.