Kibum doesn’t know what he expected of their reunion, but this awkwardness isn’t it.

Taemin’s flight had been delayed slightly, so Kibum had bought himself a coffee from Costa and wandered around the arrivals hall. It’s almost by accident that he spots Taemin exiting from the gate. Taemin sees him too, and waves. Kibum waves back. When they get within arm’s length, Taemin smiles and says “Hey, hyung.”

Kibum finds himself at a loss for words. “How was your flight?”

“Fine. I slept through most of it,” Taemin replies. “Did you wait long?”

“Not that long. Come on, the car’s outside.” Kibum has borrowed the company car, guessing that it is probably best to avoid more public methods of transportation. As they walk towards the car, Kibum takes his first proper look at Taemin.

He’s grown. There is a confidence in his walk that wasn’t there before, a self-assuredness that is completely new. His hair – which Kibum has seen change from bleached to blonde to purple to blue to every shade of the rainbow imaginable – is midnight black. His arms are toned, so much so that Kibum can make out their shape even through the long sleeves of his hoodie. He’s still wearing the clothes that he always favours, jeans and a hoodie, but Kibum can tell from one glance that each item costs more than his monthly salary. There are a few rings on his fingers and he has three piercings down the side of one ear alone.

Taemin looks up and catches him staring, and Kibum turns away, embarrassed. He doesn’t quite know how to interact with this Taemin. He’s taken a couple of days off work so that he can spend some time with Taemin, but now, it seems like they’re worlds apart.

“Can we put the window down?” Taemin asks when they hit the motorway, and Kibum complies. The wind is nippy, but Taemin doesn’t seem to mind. He’s smiling slightly, and Kibum is taken aback at how beautiful he is like this, carefree and uninhibited.

“We’ll go and drop the bags off and get lunch later, or are you hungry now?”

Taemin shrugs. “I’m fine either way. I can’t wait to see your apartment.”

~

If Kibum’s welcome is somewhat lukewarm, Comme des and Garcons more than make up for it. They bark wildly as Kibum unlocks the door and as soon as Taemin steps in, they run circles around his legs and pee in excitement.

“YAH!” Kibum exclaims, traumatised at the sight of yellow pee staining his white sheepskin rug, and Taemin starts laughing. He sits on the couch and pulls Comme des and Garcons into his lap, letting them at his face and hands. Kibum rescues his rug and throws it into his washing machine, and when he comes back he finds Taemin curled up around Comme des and Garcons, hugging them as if they’re his actual children that he’s been separated from.

“They’re not allowed on the couch, you know,” he says.

In response, Taemin slides from the couch to the floor, still holding the dogs in his arms. His hoodie is covered in dog fur.

“Yah, did you come over just to play with my dogs?”

That makes Taemin laugh again. “You’re just jealous that they like me better than you. Isn’t that right, Garconnie? You like Taemin-appa better, don’t you? I would let you sit on the couch.”

“Taemin, I swear to God, if I come back and I find that they have peed on the furniture, I will throw all three of you outside,” Kibum scolds as he walks into the bathroom. “And you better decide what you want to have for lunch.”

Kibum tarries in the bathroom far longer than he needs to, mechanically checking his hair and teeth in the mirror as he buys time away from Taemin. He’s confused as to what Taemin expects from him and he doesn’t know what role he’s meant to play in Taemin’s life now. Taemin should not - does not – even need him anymore, so why is he here?

When he comes out of the bathroom, the house is strangely quiet. Kibum’s heart skips a beat. Quiet is never good. Quiet is always a sign of mischief gone wrong. He thinks of the many, many things that are breakable in the hall and wonders which one of them has fallen victim to Taemin and his dogs.

Nothing is broken though. Taemin is on the floor, and Comme des and Garcons are sitting on top of him, and all three of them are dozing lightly. So much for sleeping on the plane, Kibum thinks, as he feels that familiar tenderness grip his heart.

He leaves them where they are and heads to the kitchen to see if he has anything to cook up a simple meal, since Taemin is evidently too tired to go out. Rifling through his cupboards, Kibum finds a can of tuna, a can of sweetcorn and he knows there’s mayo in the fridge and bread in the breadbox, and that’s all that he needs to make simple tuna sandwiches. Humming a tune to himself, Kibum gets to work.

He’s made the sandwich filling and is cutting the crusts off the bread when he hears footsteps, and the pitter-patter of little paws, behind him.

“You made lunch?” Taemin asks.

“Yeah, you looked tired. We don’t have to go out.” Kibum watches from the corner of his eye as Taemin dips a finger into the bowl of filling and offers it to Comme des. “Yah, they’re not supposed to eat human food.”

“Do you need help?” Taemin asks.

Kibum is about to turn him down, but he glances at Taemin and realises that he isn’t a clumsy, airheaded teenager anymore. “Yeah, can you set the table? There’s plates in that drawer up there and some mugs on the counter.”

They work together in silence, taking the food and utensils to the table, stepping around each other and the dogs that hover around their feet. Kibum is just about to sit when Taemin jumps and says “Ah, I forgot! I got something for you, it’s in my bag.”

Kibum waits for a while, but when Taemin doesn’t return, he goes looking for him – and finds him in the hall, crouched over his open bag, a look of despair on his face. A peek into the bag reveals various items of clothing covered in reddish sauce and a second later, Kibum is hit with the pungent smell of kimchi juice.

“It spilled,” Taemin says sadly.

For some reason, of all of the things that have happened today, that sets Kibum off. He starts laughing, loud and hard, and pretty soon he’s on his knees beside Taemin, with an ache in his side and tears running down his cheeks. He doesn’t know why it’s so funny, but it is. Taemin giggles too, still looking miffed, and finally he says “It’s not that funny, hyung, come on. The lady at the store said the container was airtight, I asked specifically.”

“You idiot, airtight doesn’t mean unbreakable,” Kibum replies. He throws an arm over Taemin’s shoulder and drags him close enough to kiss the side of his head. “Don’t ever change.”

And just like that, the awkwardness between them fades away.

Taemin leans into his side and they survey the damage together. Everything in the bag will have to be washed, Kibum thinks to himself. It’s okay though, Taemin can just borrow his clothes or buy new ones.

“We have to clean this up,” Taemin says.

“Leave it. It’s still sunny outside, let’s go eat in the park. We can clean it up later.” Kibum can see the surprise on Taemin’s face; he knows he’s changed. “Let’s take the kids too.”

They haven’t forgotten how to be a team, not yet anyway. Kibum takes a handful of ziplock bags from a drawer; Taemin packs the sandwiches. Kibum digs out Comme des and Garcons’ harnesses; Taemin straps them in, freeing Kibum to run a lint roller over Taemin’s fur-covered hoodie and to pull his own jacket out of the closet.

The hallway is crowded when they step out. Kibum bites back a huff of annoyance when he realises who they are. It is Adrian, his neighbour’s delinquent son, and his band of football hooligans. Sure enough, they’re all in cleats and the Indian one – Raj or perhaps it was Ram, he can never remember – has a football tucked under his arm.

“Hey Mr Kim, y’alright?”

That’s another thing Kibum hates. He’s only 28 and these kids are nineteen or twenty. There isn’t enough of an between them for them to be calling him Mr Kim, like he’s his father, but if he tells them to call him Key or Kibum, they’ll make fun of him.

“Fine, thanks,” he says, turning to lock his door.

“Hi,” Taemin says. He points to the ball in Raj/Ram’s hands before Kibum can warn him not to talk to them. “Soccer?”

The boys laugh. “Naw mate, we call it football,” one of the boys reply. “You play?”

“Little bit.”

“Come on,” Kibum hisses in Korean. “Let’s go.”

“Well, we’re going to the park in a bit, and we’re a couple of players short, so if you’re around you can join us,” Adrian offers.

“Awesome!” Taemin sounds so excited that Kibum can’t bring himself to tell Taemin that Adrian and his buddies aren’t the sort of people who take very kindly to effeminate pop stars. To be fair, they were quite nice to Taemin.

Even Adrian the delinquent cannot ruin Kibum’s day; the sun is out, the air is crisp with the scent of falling leaves and he’s going to have a picnic with Comme des, Garcons and Taemin. There’s nothing more that Kibum wants from life than this.

“You chose a really nice place,” Taemin says, once they’ve crossed the road and entered the park.

“I spent a ton of money on that flat, it better be nice.”

“I mean, yes, it’s obviously expensive but-“ Taemin doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because, unfathomably, Adrian and his friends have reached the park too and upon spotting Taemin, he calls out “Hey, Mr Kim’s friend! Wanna play?”

Kibum would have to be blind to miss the way Taemin’s eyes light up at the invitation, so when Taemin shakes his head at Kibum – to indicate that he isn’t going to abandon him for a game – Kibum says “Go ahead. I’ll take Comme des and Garcons down to the duck pond and you can come find us when you’re done.”

“Hyung-”

“It’s fine,” Kibum says, and it really is. “Go on. But if you come back too late I can’t guarantee there’ll be any sandwiches left.”

Despite telling Taemin that he’ll go to the duck pond, Kibum lingers for a while to watch Taemin play. He tears up and down the field with the rest of the boys, not really scoring or assisting with goals, but having the time of his life anyway. He looks so vibrant and full of life. He looks like everything Kibum told him he’d be.

A small part of Kibum is jealous. Taemin is beautiful, rich, talented; Kibum is vaguely good-looking, vaguely well-off and just talented enough to keep himself housed and fed. But it is a very small part. Kibum realises, with a little bit of surprise, that he doesn’t really want what Taemin has. He’s happy with the small slice of life that he’s carved out for himself.

“Quack quack,” Kibum says to his dogs, just to see their ears perk up. They love the ducks. Well, they love to get chased by the park’s very fierce and vicious ducks. It’s a relief that the park doesn’t have a pond big enough to host geese or swans.

~

Taemin finds them not long after Comme des and Garcons completely exhaust themselves – and Kibum – by running around and around the pond with the ducks. He flops down on the bench next to Kibum and huffs a heavy breath. “Wah, that was fun.”

“Hungry?” Kibum asks.

Taemin nods and gratefully accepts a bottle of water from Kibum, which he gulps down while Kibum unpacks the sandwiches. “Your neighbours are really cool.”

“I guess so,” Kibum answers. They eat in silence for a while. “So what do you want to do after this?”

Taemin shrugs. “I need to shower. And then… well, I was thinking we could go out for dinner? You should know where’s good.”

“What do you feel like having?”

“I’m up for anything. You’re the Londoner, you choose.”

~

While Taemin flops on his couch and surfs through the various BBC channels, hair still wet from his recent shower, Kibum decides to look through his wardrobe for a suitable dinner outfit for the both of them. He’s just comparing some shirts when his phone rings. It’s Jonghyun.

Kibum answers straight away. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Kibum-ah, where are you?” Jonghyun sounds nervous.

“At home.”

“What are you doing?”

“Umm… picking clothes, I guess?” Kibum wonders what this is about. Is Jjong calling him because he’s about to propose to Minkyung? That is the sort of thing Jjong would do. Or is someone hurt?

“Kibum-ah… Taemin’s missing.”

Kibum doesn’t quite expect this. Puzzled, Kibum peeks out of his bedroom; Taemin is still flopped on the couch, still channel surfing, not missing. “No he’s not.”

Jonghyun’s breath hitches. “Kibummie,” he says, sounding so careful, as if he’s dealing with a wounded animal “Taemin disappeared last night. We’ll find him, don’t worry. I just wanted you to hear from me first, before-”

“No, he’s not missing. He’s with me.”

“What?”

“He texted me last week, I think, and asked if he could stay with me. His flight landed this morning and now he’s in my house.”

What follows next is a stream of expletives that makes even Kibum’s very experienced ears burn. It also sounds like Jonghyun is kicking something. Finally, he calms down enough to say “Put him on the phone.”

For some reason, Kibum doesn’t want to. “Maybe you can call him later.”

“I think I’m going to wake up with white hair tomorrow. ing hell. I knew something like this was going to happen. He flat-out refused to sign a contract renewal or book any dates after the end of his contract and I just knew that he was going to run off. .” Jjong sighs heavily. “Well, he’s in your hands now.”

“He’s in his own hands,” Kibum replies. “But I’ll tell him to call you.”

~

They take the tube to Shoreditch to Kibum’s favourite tapas restaurant. Taemin wears a cap and keeps his head down, but he still gets a lot of curious glances on the train. Kibum watches people watch him, trying to suss out whether Taemin is in any danger of being recognised, but his sasaeng-spotting instinct seems to have dulled from disuse.

The restaurant is mildly busy – it is a weekday after all – and it’s perfect because it’s not too quiet that they’re self-conscious about talking or too loud that they need to shout to hear each other. The sangria is beautiful and the food is great. Taemin hoovers up food like he hasn’t eaten in days and trips over his words in his haste to speak; to tell Kibum all of the stories he’s missed these past years.

“And then some Japanese newspaper used my photo instead of Koharu’s and when I woke up, I got so many calls asking me why I came out and why I started dating Haruma Miura.” Taemin laughs. “Haruma called me to apologise personally. He came to my concert too.”

Kibum helps himself to another slice of Black Forest ham. “Koharu sounds really cool.”

“She is.” Taemin smiles wistfully. “If she weren’t dating Haruma, I would have asked her out.”

“Eh, I thought you were dating Haeri?”

“Hyung, that was ages ago!”

Kibum pulls a face and shrugs. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not your fan. I don’t keep up with your dating news. What happened there? I thought you liked her?”

“She said I didn’t have enough time for her. She kept comparing us to Jonghyun-hyung and Minkyung, like, you know they’re practically living together now right? They go home together every night blah blah blah and Haeri was angry that I spent most of my nights in the practice room.”

Knowing Taemin, and Kibum does, he would have chosen his career over any romantic entanglement. “So are you seeing anyone now?”

“Nope. I barely had time to breathe during my last concert tour, let alone date. What about you?”

“It feels like I just got out of a relationship, but that was last year.” Kibum refills their glasses before continuing. “I don’t know, I don’t feel like dating anyone right now. Like, I don’t want to die alone, but at the same time, getting to know someone new is so tiring, you know?”

Taemin nods emphatically. “Yes, that’s exactly how I feel. By the time I’m done with work each day, I have had enough of people. I don’t have the patience to do that whole push-and-pull thing you’re supposed to do with new relationships.” He takes a drink and suddenly exclaims “Ah! Ah, I met Seop!”

Kibum blinks. “Oh. Where?”

“I went to Milan fashion week and he was on the runway. I wouldn’t have spoken to him, but the designer who invited me wanted me to come backstage to talk to the models and Seop was there, and it was like, we were the only two Koreans so it was awkward not to be nice to each other.”

“How is he?”

“He looked fine. He asked about you. I said you moved to London and he said you must be happy.”

It is the best conversation Kibum has had in a long time. There are no secrets between them, only untold stories; nothing Taemin says can change how Kibum feels about him and Kibum knows that nothing he says will change what Taemin thinks of him either. It feels like they’re having just another one of their post-concert dinner and drinks.

The night air is cold, but they get off one station early and walk back to home, taking time to enjoy the freedom of having nothing to do tomorrow. Taemin says he wants to see some of the sights but he wants to avoid crowds, and Kibum is a bit too tipsy to think too hard of a place that meets both criteria.

“Why didn’t you renew your contract?”

“Eh, how did you know?”

Kibum laughs; the sound rings in the relative quiet of the night. “Jonghyun called earlier. You’re in so much trouble.”

“He’s going to kill me.”

“Slowly and painfully. With a spoon. But yes, back to my question. Are you thinking of changing companies or something?”

“No,” Taemin shakes his head. “I know SM isn’t perfect, but SM is what made me what I am today. I don’t intend to go anywhere. It’s just… I’ve sort of done everything I wanted to do, musically and artistically. I’ve danced with all the choreographers I wanted to work with. I’ve sung every type of song I wanted to sing. I want to continue being a performer, but I don’t want to branch out into new things just because I have nothing else to do. I thought I’d take some time off and explore what I really want to do next. It’s not like I can’t afford it.”

It’s a very reasonable concern. Kibum has no useful advice to offer, so he just stays silent. Taemin will figure out what he wants to do, and when he does, he’ll excel at that like he excels at everything else he sets his will to. Kibum knows this the way he knows the sun will rise tomorrow.

~

Kibum is about to hop into the shower when Taemin knocks on the door. He’s already dressed for bed, in one of Kibum’s old t-shirts and shorts, and he’s got a small package in his hands.

“It’s for you,” Taemin says, almost shy, pushing the box into Kibum’s hands as if he can’t bear to hold it for a moment longer. “You didn’t think I’d come to see you with only kimchi, right?”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect anything,” Kibum replies as he works on opening the glossy red wrapping. A similar red giftwrapping flashes in his memory, but it is gone before Kibum can get a grasp on it. Inside the box is a YSL wallet. It’s sleek and beautiful and everything Kibum wants but cannot afford on his salary. “This is too much.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I got it for free?”

Kibum laughs. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

“Well, then I got it for free.” Taemin yawns and stretches. “Goodnight hyung. If I don’t wake up tomorrow, just let me sleep in.”

~

At two in the morning, Kibum lies in bed, wide awake. It is that time of the night when the world truly falls into silence and a sense of stillness takes over. He should be resting but, despite dozing off a few times since he climbed into bed, Kibum can’t seem to convince his brain to shut down. He feels as if he’s forgotten to lock the door or give Comme des and Garcons their bedtime treats; like there’s something he should have done that he hasn’t.

Belatedly, Kibum realises that it’s not that he’s forgotten something, but that he’s waiting for something. It’s as if, now that Taemin is here, his body has reverted to what it was three years ago and is now waiting for a warm body to join him in bed before it will let him go to sleep. Kibum would laugh if it weren’t so tragic.

He throws off his blanket and wanders down the hallway to the guest room. Comme des and Garcons wake up, but they don’t leave their beds. As quietly as he can, Kibum opens the door and peeks in.

Taemin is fast asleep, rolled in his duvet like a giant sausage roll. He’s breathing deeply, like he does whenever he’s overworked himself. Kibum knows this exhaustion; he’s felt it settle into his own bones whenever SHINee wraps up promotions and a tour. It’s crashing from a potent combination of jet lag and adrenaline and lack of sleep.

Without stopping to think about what he’s doing, Kibum closes the door behind him and walks to the bed. He untucks a corner of the duvet from under Taemin’s body and lifts it, and Taemin wakes up.

“Hyung?”

Kibum freezes. Taemin sounds so confused; as if he never expected this at all. “I thought-”

Taemin smiles. “I didn’t think the day would come, but I really am too old now to be sleeping in your bed whenever something goes wrong. And nothing is wrong, I’m fine.”

It feels like Taemin just reached out and slapped him. Kibum feels his ears burn with shame, and in his shock he isn’t aware of the words falling out of his mouth until it’s too late. “It’s hyung who needs-”

Who needs what? Kibum doesn’t know how to explain to Taemin that he still hasn’t come to terms with how he’s grown, with how he doesn’t need Kibum anymore; that he doesn’t understand why Taemin is here if not for this?

Mortified with himself, Kibum drops the edge of the duvet and turns to leave. When morning comes he can blame this on the sangria, but right now he needs to stop making a fool of himself.

He’s barely turned when Taemin yanks him down into the bed. Kibum gasps, disoriented both physically and emotionally, and before he can think of struggling, Taemin has him held securely in his arms.

“It’s okay, hyung,” he whispers to Kibum’s back. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Finally, Kibum understands why Taemin believed all of his barefaced lies about how things will work out; finally, he understands the potency of the lies he whispered to Taemin just like this, in the deep of the night with his beating heart pressed to Taemin’s back.

“Sleep, hyung,” Taemin says, his lips pressed to Kibum’s shoulder.

So sleep Kibum does.

xxxxx

update! as always, do leave a review telling me what you liked and what you didn't. 

don't expect the next update quite so soon since i'm absolutely swamped at work.