For ped0noona, who also guessed what Taemin was reading in Drabble 1. MinKey friendship, set during Hope. It's a little more angsty than fluffy, but I tried my best

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Minho let himself out of his bedroom, closing the door carefully behind him. Taemin was sleeping fitfully, but at least he was sleeping. He still had trouble sleeping without Minho, but it was getting better.

“How’s he doing?” Key asked. He was sitting on the chair he’d staked out as his own, legs curled beneath him, a book balanced on the arm of the chair. He’d never shown much interest in reading, but the longer he was at Minho’s apartment, the more he read. Minho supposed he was bored out of his mind.

“Sleeping, I think,” Minho said. He sat on the couch across from Key, letting his head fall back. He was tired, but he had a lot of work to do before he could finally go to sleep. With a groan, he reached for his laptop and lifted the screen.

“Minho?”

“Hm?”

When Key didn’t say anything right away, he looked up to find Key watching him with a pensive expression on his face.

“You’re exhausted.”

Minho shrugged. “This is just a busy time for me.”

“We’re not making things any easier for you.”

“You’re not making things any harder either.”

Key scoffed, closing the book and sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Don’t lie. I may be hurt, but I’m not stupid. I’ve seen how hard you’re working to keep Taemin busy, and I don’t know if it’s because you want to make sure he doesn’t get bored or relapse or what, but you’re with him constantly when you’re here.”

“The apartment’s not that big.”

Key just rolled his eyes, giving Minho a look he was becoming very familiar with and had personally begun calling ‘don’t be a ing idiot,’ not that he’d ever tell Key that. He’d probably love it. And then patent it.

“I don’t even think he knows what you’re doing, but thank you. He needs someone to care about him.”

“He has you.”

“Yeah, and I love him, but he doesn’t need a brother now, does he?” Key shrugged. “Either way, thank you. He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.”

“How are you doing?” Minho asked, a little uncomfortable with the way the conversation was headed. It was getting frighteningly close to those conversations you had with parents where they subtly hinted to you that it would be okay if you wanted to ‘become a member of the family.’

Key’s smile was bitter. “I’m doing okay. Most of the pain is gone now, unless I decide to move.”

“I’m sorry.”

As if proving his point, Key grimaced in pain when he shrugged. “I won’t say I’ve had worse, because it’s probably not true. I know how to handle it better than I did when I was a kid.”

“I can afford to bring you to the doctor,” Minho said. They’d had this conversation a time or two already and Key had unequivocally refused any aid. This time, however, he paused for just a second.

“No, I’m okay.”

“There’s the chance that--”

“If I don’t start getting better soon, I’ll think about it.”

“Wait, really?”

Key gave him a slow smile, the kind that Minho had only seen once or twice before and always made him wonder how someone with the kind of past Key had was capable of still smiling like that. “Yes, really.”

Minho was about to say something more, but Key stood up, moving slowly and stiffly, pausing and resting his hands on his knees before he pushed himself the rest of the way to his feet. He made it a step and wavered, catching himself against the wall. Minho was up, slinging an arm around his waist before he could recover. Key’s hand clenched in the collar of Minho’s shirt and he could hear him drawing in ragged breaths.

“Key, please. I have a friend. He could look at you; it wouldn’t have to be official. No records. I just want to know you’re going to be okay.”

For a few seconds, there was no response. Then he felt Key straighten and nod once. “Fine, but I’m not answering any questions I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have to. He’ll be discrete if I tell him it’s important.”

Key nodded again. “I just want to sleep for a little while.”

Minho tightened his arm around Key’s waist, trying to pretend he didn’t see the little grimace, and helped him the few feet down the hall to the bedroom. They made it through the bedroom door and Minho released Key, letting him lean heavily against the wall.

“Are you okay?” Minho asked. “I mean, to-to change and everything?”

Key laughed, but it was quiet and bitter again. “Yes, I’m okay for that. If you hear a thud, you may want to come running.”

“I’ll do that.”

Key caught Minho’s wrist as he turned to leave. “I’m serious though. About Taemin. Thank you. I couldn’t hope for him to find anyone better.”

Minho gave him a tight smile and closed the door behind him. He looked for a moment at his computer, whirring quietly in the living room, and turned to his bedroom.