In the dead of winter was the worst possible time that Taemin could have found himself wandering the streets of the city.

The air was so cold, it was like breathing broken glass.  The days were much shorter now, so, even though it was barely 8:00 p.m., the sun had long set and the temperature had dropped considerably.  Had it been lighter, Taemin would have been able to see the dark red color of his freezing hands, and the way they were slightly swollen from the biting cold.  Not that he wasn't used to seeing his hands in such a state, anyway.

He'd been out on the streets for a week now, with nowhere to go.  He'd only eaten twice in that time, and he'd had to steal the food.  He'd never stolen in his life-- he'd never had to.  Up until a week ago, he'd never in his life been left for want.

Taemin knew he had to find a place to rest, and soon.  He was exhausted, his energy almost completely depleted.  It happened a lot, lately, due to the combination of the cold, a severe lack of food, not enough sleep and too much walking.  Worse, all of those factors were only exacerbated by the fact that he had a thin body as it was.

He roamed the darkened streets, shivering and huddling as deep into his coat as he could, his teeth chattering like a jackhammer.

If he didn't find a place to rest very soon, he knew he would be in deep trouble.

~*~

The whistling and cat-calls in the club rose to a deafening din as Key took the stage, wearing nothing but his pink, sequined hot-pants (beneath which was a black thong), some subtle body glitter and heavy, yet tasteful, eye makeup.

He didn't have the cut, muscular physique of most of the other dancers, nor did he dance in the powerful, masculine way they did; but he was still a heavy favorite.  Who needed all those things when one had the smooth moves, elegance and y androgyny that Kim Kibum did?

He moved to the pole, starting off with flowing body waves and hip movements that showed off his pert little , then cast a smoldering look over the crowd before twirling like a ribbon around the pole.  He moved gracefully, flowingly, twirling and bending and stretching, showing off his elegance and flexibility as the lights burned into his eyes.  

A little while later, sweat was beading on his sparkly forehead as he climbed to where the pole met the high ceiling, crossed his ankles around the pole, then smoothly let himself tip backwards until he was upside down, arms gracefully positioned over his head.  It looked as though he was barely hanging on by his small ankles, but no one would ever know how much strength and muscle control the hold actually required.  Smiling at his admirers, Key swung himself into a soft twirl, slowly spiraling down the pole until his hands touched the floor.  He put his weight onto his hands, doing a back walkover to smoothly dismount.

The men whistled and hollered and threw money on the stage.

The women waved bills in their hands as they screeched and squealed.

Key sashayed along the edge of the round stage, seductively bending over and giving y winks and smirks as he collected the money that had accrued during his time on the main stage.

Once he'd collected it all, he sauntered off the stage and headed toward the back to take a smoke break, drink some water and touch up his makeup and glitter before he had to rotate to one of the smaller stages.

"Stunning performance, as usual," someone said, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

Key didn't have to look over to know who it was.  He just smiled and kept walking, not removing the arm.  "And I'm sure you'll do just as well, Joon."

The taller male followed Key out to the balcony, grimacing as he watched Key light a cigarette.  "I thought you quit."

"I did," Key replied simply, taking a long drag.  He closed his eyes in enjoyment as he exhaled.  "Just not completely.  I have one every once in awhile to help me wind down from a longer time slot onstage."

"It's a nasty habit," Joon chided, shaking his head.  "Gimme a drag."

Key laughed a little as he handed the cigarette over.  They shared a scant few minutes of friendly conversation before heading back in, Key to go touch himself up, and Joon to do his slot on the main stage.

Hours later, Key was finally trudging home.  He pulled his knit scarf tighter around his neck to ward off the cold.  All he wanted now was a beer, something to eat and a hot bath, followed by his bed.

As he approached his apartment building, however, his attention was drawn to the dark heap, which appeared to be a person, in the snow next to the concrete stairs.

Key sighed heavily and rolled his eyes in annoyance, figuring it was probably some drunk.

He walked up to the lump and began prodding it with the toe of his boot.  "Yah."  He prodded some more.  "Yah, wake up.  Go pass out somewhere else."  When the lump didn't move, he rolled them over with his foot... and just stared.

It was not some middle-aged drunk, as he had suspected, but a beautiful young man, probably a few years younger than himself.

Key knelt in the snow to get a closer look, but shut his eyes again and rubbed at his temples when he noticed the faint bluish tint around the young man's lips.  

That wasn't good.

He stood again, looking around at the empty streets for anyone that might know the guy, or be able to help-- but there was no one.

What was he supposed to do now?

** A/N:

As I'd hoped, this chapter was posted on time! \(^o^)/

Welcome, everyone, to my new fic!  I've missed you all, and can't tell you how good it is to be back from my hiatus!  *squishes you all*

I've decided to use the traditional ships (if Joonew counts as a traditional ship) for this story, and I hope you all enjoy this one as much as you have my other fics. :)

Subscribe if you like, but even if you don't, please comment away!  They make me feel sparkly. ^^  **

p.s.

I'm having issues with the programs I use to make headers, so I wasn't able to add one yet.  Hopefully, I'll figure it out soon!