Sorry for mistakes!

“Shh. We have to be completely quiet. Not a peep, understand?”

“Ok, hyung.”

“WHAT DID I JUST SAY?”

Taemin hastily covered his mouth and nodded vigorously. The two dark-haired boys crouched low behind a trash can. They could hear the security guard rambling.

And that was when the lights turned off.

Taemin yelped and grabbed onto the nearest thing next to him, which was, of course, Minho.

Minho didn’t push him off. He was as scared as he was. Maybe even more.

The footsteps approached them at a slow pace. Taemin squeezed his eyes shut. Ok. Forget Minho being scary. THIS. IS ING SCARY. He instinctively gripped Minho’s arm tighter, scared to embrace what would happen next.

“Please don’t let them get me, Minho-hyung.” It was barely above a whisper and Minho nodded, feeling unconfident. Why did this boy have to put his life into his hands? Oh right. He owed him one.

 Damnit. He could hear the steps getting closer to them.

Minho watched with wide eyes as a circle of flickering light started to dance around the little hallway.

What the hell is that?  Are they messing with us?!

His curiosity got the better of him as he inched his neck over the trash can and found that it was the security guard. If they were caught, that would be the end of them.

Minho would never get his sports scholarship.

He motioned to Taemin to get lower, but the boy’s eyes were still clamped shut, so Minho forcefully pushed his body lower to the cold tile.

The security guard shuffled on, stopping in front of the classroom nearest them. He swished his light back and forth. Minho swore it flashed on them a few times.

But then, the beam of light inched slowly to where they were hiding. He held his breath.

It barely flickered onto his face for a fraction of a second before the guard, throwing the flashlight up into the air, screamed an earsplitting scream and ran out, leaving the two boys alone in the dark.

“W-WHAT WAS THAT?” Taemin’s eyes were open again and he was breathing heavily. Thinking hurriedly, Minho tried to calm the boy down. He didn’t want a repeat of their little episode.

He couldn’t think of anything better to do than just laugh. He smiled at the young boy, and to his relief, he grinned up at him in return.

Thank goodness.

“C’mon. We can’t stay here. They’re going to send the Ghostbusters or something any second.” He grabbed the boy’s hand and dragged him into the nearest room possible. To his satisfaction, the lights went on and filled the whole room with its warmth. He locked the door.

“Great choice,” said a sarcastic Taemin. “I’ve always wanted to crash in a Janitors’ closet.”

“What? Crash? Did that fall disrupt your brain or something?”

Taemin looked up at him and talked slowly, as if Minho was the one who was slow. “Yes, hyung. You don’t expect us to leave do you? We can’t.” He shrugged his bony shoulders. “They locked this place up and they’ll know we were in here if we try to leave.”

Minho contemplated the boy’s face. He looked smug.

“Well, if we’re crashing here, I call the detergent!”

Taemin giggled. Minho could not help swooning at the bubbly and tinkling sound of it. “Oh, hyung. It’s not that bad. Here, look.” He went over and smoothed a piece of plastic that seemed to cover a load of spotted rags. It lay atop heavy boxes. “You can sleep here, and I’ll sleep,” he walked over to the other side, scrutinizing the room. There wasn’t much to work with. “Here,” he declared, pointing to the floor.

“You cray cray. You can’t sleep on the floor,” Minho rolled his eyes.

“Of course I can,” he said quietly to himself.

But Minho did not catch that. Instead, he picked himself up and sat on the makeshift bed. The plastic crinkled nastily underneath him. He crinkled his nose but smiled. He patted his hand beside him, gesturing at Taemin to sit next to him.

The two boys sat there for a few minutes, swinging their legs beneath them.

“Hyung,” Taemin started. He stopped moving. “I’ve known you for awhile. Ever since I transferred here, you always seemed to catch my eye.” Minho stopped to look at the boy beside him. “At first I envied you. But…I then realized it really wasn’t envy. It was pure admiration.” He looked up at him.

Minho locked gazes but looked away. He was blushing again. This kid really knows how to push my buttons, he thought agitatedly.

“E-enough about that. Let’s cut to the chase. What’d you want to tell me?” They looked at each other before falling back into laughter. Ever since their arrival, they had done nothing except avoid the subject completely. Minho cut his laughter short just to hear the sweet sound of Taemin’s sweet amusement again. 

But Minho was persistent. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at him.

“What I wanted to tell you…Oh. Right.” Taemin’s heartbeat raced. How would the older one react? It could be worse. They were trapped in a janitor’s closet after all. And he was just so damn tired of holding it in. The pressure was killing him.

This would be the first time he would tell anyone this. He didn’t know where to start, but knew that he’d go on from there easily. Minho was just different. It seemed like Minho knew Taemin more than he knew himself, sometimes.

He cleared his throat. “I have had epilepsyever since I can remember. You can probably tell, by now.” He grinned, feeling ashamed about the two incidents that had happened in Minho’s presence. “You should also know that… I’m a runaway!” He said these last words quickly, almost blurring them together.

Three words that had so much meaning and question behind it, but Minho didn’t press him…at first. He soaked it all in, realization knitting his eyebrows together. Then a minute later, his instincts got the better of him, and he exploded.

“YOU’RE INSANE!! With your sickness?” Minho shook his head angrily at the thought, feeling his protective and fatherly side of him come into play. “Do you realize what could’ve happened?” Taemin opened a mouth to protest but Minho ignored him. He continued, “WHAT THE IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

He let Taemin answer this time. “Other than the fact that I have epilepsy?”

Minho glowered at him.

The teenager sighed. “I-I don’t know. It was my mother, mostly. I was like her prized jewel or something. She…she ran my life.” He laughed; it was the painful kind, and it hurt Minho to hear it. “Sounds cliché, doesn’t it?”

They were silent for a moment.

“And the day she found out about my diagnosis, HA! You shoulda seen her. Her straight A’s future doctor/dentist/athlete letting something like that get in his way. She flipped a cap.” He chuckled. “She probably thought something went wrong, and she only tried harder to make me successful.

She ran me even harder. I was constantly getting little panic seizures from the stress she was putting me through and you know what she would say to me? ‘Get over it, Taemin. You are a weakling; the best you can do for me is to not show it in public.’ She doesn’t love me. She loves money and power. She’s a widow, and I am her only son.”

Minho was silent. He only stared at the small, breakable, and innocent boy that was before him. Taemin was looking deeply into the palms of his hands, and Minho had to reach over to raise his chin up with his fingers.

People are like fruit. Peel back the skin and you don’t know what you’ll get. A banana? An orange?

Ok. That was a terrible metaphor. I will never write poetry.

“Don’t you ever want to go back?” he asked softly.

“Of course I do.” He smiled. “But only when I know I’ve fulfilled her. Because now, I’m just shaming her. She doesn’t want to be reminded of her failure, right? If I come home with her money and power, maybe she’ll finally love me, too.”

~~~

Although there was no source of time in the dim, musty, and moist room, the two boys could tell that it was far past their usual bedtime.

The late night gave them a feeling of intoxication; Minho loved it.

He breathed in Taemin’s laughter like , letting the beautiful sound make him forget about everything.

Except one thing, of course.

How in the world is this child living like this?

Despite their conversation topics ranging to everything and anything, Minho’s mind was churning frantically on that matter. He was planning. And the laughing and joking boy in front of him knew absolutely nothing.

He smiled maniacally.

“Hyung? You’re d-doing that thing again.”

“Eh? What thing?”

“That look. Like...the one you had earlier before sprinting after me.” Minho could see his body quake in fear at the recent memory.

Minho smiled a big smile that made his eyes close. He scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Screw off. You’re hiding something.” He squirmed in his seat excitedly, making the plastic crinkle.

“Naw. I only hide food.”

“Tell me!” Minho watched in glee. He loved noticing little things about Taemin. Like being extremely curious and pushy.

“No~”

“Tell me!” He grabbed his arm and playfully pulled at it, pouting.

Crap. I’m going to have to make using aegyo as one of the new rules.

He shook him off. “Ok. But you have to do something for me.”

 Taemin looked up at him with excited eyes. This was a big secret. He could tell. “Anything for you, hyung!” They barely knew each other for a day and already, Taemin felt like he had found his long lost older brother. Or something like that.

“’Kay. No turning back since you agreed!”

. He’s going to make me do something really embarrassing. Taemin felt his face grow hot. He wondered if he should seek a job in grave digging. He was practically a natural at it, apparently.

And Minho was having so much fun with this.

Wow, his ears are going red right before my very eyes!

He only thought for a fraction of a moment.“Beg for me, Lee Taemin.” Minho hated to admit it but, it was extremely pleasing to watch Taemin use aegyo. He wanted more. Forget the rules.

“W-what?” His face was as red as ever.

Minho smiled softly and simply waved a hand for him to start.

Taemin considered the situation. How badly do I want to know Minho’s deepest and darkest secret?

Taemin only thought for a second. REALLY BADLY! PWAHAHAHAHA!

And begging was not the worst the boy could do, considering his natural aeygo and to-die-for cheeks.

Prepare for the blackmailing of your life, Choi Minho.

Taemin tried his best to hide his smile. “Minhooooo-hyungg!” He pouted and puffed his cheeks. He got on his knees and clasped two hands together. “I wannnaaa knowww tooooo!!” he whined.

Oh my god! This kid!!! Is so damn cute! I need to stop him before I crack!  Minho thought quickly. He needed to stop this. His hands were gripping the denim fabric above his thighs tightly. He could feel his pulse ram against his neck, wrist, and chest as Taemin crawled closer to him.

Taemin gets to me too easily.

And Minho was a complete die-hard for cuteness.

“NOPE! Not good enough,” he said before stopping himself. Well damn. That’s not exactly what I meant by stopping Taemin.

Taemin sighed. And suddenly, he had an expression as if a light bulb flashed above his head. Still on his knees, he shimmied closer to the older boy.

And then,

He

 Felt

 Him

Up.

Well, that’s what it seemed like to Minho. Taemin actually just rested his hands on his lap and was going to beg from there, thinking of it as an advantage to get as close to his hyung as possible, but Minho jerked in alarm and slammed himself against the wall, away from the perplexed boy.

“YAH! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

“Begging?”

Well it’s ing working! Minho didn’t want to admit it. Why he just wouldn’t tell the boy? Minho didn’t know either. But it was really fun until Taemin violated his…area.

He swiped the sweat from his brow.

“Ok, well, since you really want to know…” He could feel the blood rush out of his head at that moment.

Woah. That was weird. He ignored it.

Taemin looked up at him with anticipating eyes, waiting a fair distance away from him.

“I-I want to help you. Sincerely help you. I…I’m gonna make sure you are fed every night, and have a place to stay…and…loads of other stuff—

He trailed off. He couldn’t concentrate. Some part of his body was tingling.

Oh god.

Taemin jumped up in shock at his words. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked up at him with adoring eyes. He was red again.

He rushed over to his hyung who was slumped against the wall and jumped up on the plastic bed next to him, not caring about personal space to this point. He was shaking.

“Are you ok?” Minho asked uneasily. This was more of a question for himself.

“Yeah, I think so.” Taemin brushed an eye. “I don’t want to get so emotional over this, but that’s just who I am,” he chuckled. “No one has ever cared for me as much as you have, hyung. Not even Umma.”

He hugged him. Minho ignored the stabbing sensation and inched himself away from his quivering body, just slightly so he wouldn’t notice. He didn’t comprehend anything the boy was saying to him.

“I’m sorry, Taemin.”

“For what?” He drew himself away and looked at him puzzedly.

“For everything you’ve gone through. It ends now, though. You have me.”

Minho cursed himself as the boy smashed his body tighter against him.

It made it worse.

“Eh? Your cell phone is sticking out weird. You might want to fix that.”

Forget blushing. Minho was full on RED. AS. FIRE.

Of course, with the blood that was still left in his face.

“Y-yeah…” Taemin was oblivious to his burning face.

The young boy waited for him. He still wanted to hug Minho close against his little body. He quite liked the way he felt hugging him, like he was forever safe with him.

But alas! Taemin never got his wish. But Minho did, more or less.

The tiny light bulb broke off and came down with a loud crash; glass shattered everywhere. Taemin squeaked as they were engulfed in complete darkness. Minho pulled away from him immediately, thanking the haunted school for the distraction.

Taemin grabbed his arm like he did back in the hallway, gripping it tighter as his fear intensified.

Minho sighed. “We need to get some sleep, anyway,” he said, being optimistic. He lied down on the crinkly bed, praying Taemin would comply and do the same.   

“The floor is littered with glass,” he declared sadly. “You don’t mind me sleeping with you, hyung?”

Damn right I do! You little chicken-raising—

“No, I understand.”

He laid his head opposite Minho’s; his ragged and terrified breath becoming calmer.

“Yah, are you awake?”

Taemin didn’t answer.

He waited a while longer.

Finally! End of the reminiscing, FOREVER! I can finally get back on to the main story line. Man, I don’t even think I have a plot. This suuckss.

Hehe I like writing about pre-teen boys.

Anyway, I hate myself for writing something so clichéd.

Orphaned runaway child with a disease.

Fml.

Who hasn’t read that?

Sorry, everyone.

AND ONEW.

OMG.

I WILL TREAT YOU TO CHICKEN FOR THE LACK OF YOUR PRESENCE! And Jongie and Key too…

Hm? What would they want?

toys?