Chapter 13: Dreams that Cannot Be

In the end, Jonghyun’s surgery takes place a week after his accident; nobody knows why the swelling around his nose took so long to go down, but it seals his fate to not be included in the music video.

In fact, they shoot the music video on the day of his operation. Jin is at the shoot with them, and he’s visibly nervous, checking his phone every couple of minutes. In moments like these, Kibum feels grateful to have Jin around. The man is a harsh taskmaster, and he doesn’t tolerate insubordination, but it is clear that he cares for them. They’re not just a job to him.

The music video itself, he thinks, is a typical SM box MV. The management has decided to keep costs down with this video, so the creative team had sat down with them and come up with a simple theme in keeping with the unsettling lyrics; something with darkened rooms and spinning cameras and music boxes. It’s nothing revolutionary, but it’s a bit different because there’s no choreography; they have to learn to express themselves through their faces, their eyes and their gestures.

Because there is no choreo, they’re done quicker than Kibum expects. He’s checking out Minho filming one of his scenes, and when the rapper is done, the director stands up and says “It’s a wrap!”

It’s not even midday yet.

Minho and Jinki cheer with the rest of the team, and Kibum half-heartedly makes a few congratulatory noises as well. He doesn’t know what they’re cheering for, because there is no reality in which their fans will accept a comeback that does not involve any dancing at all. Jin tries to usher them into the van, so that he can drop them off at the dorm before rushing off to see Jjong, probably, but Kibum declines.

“I haven’t seen Seop in ages.”

Jin doesn’t look happy. “Be careful. You guys really don’t-”

“Need another scandal, I know. I’ll change into something casual and drop by his house. We’re not going to go anywhere I can be recognised.”

“Alright. Don’t be back too late. We need to go over your interview with Elle magazine tomorrow, apparently they just faxed the questions to SM.”

“Sure.”

Kibum hadn’t lied when he told Jin that he wanted to see Seop – he’s not seen his boyfriend in weeks, and he misses him terribly – but he finds himself boarding a bus heading towards a different part of the city, and before he knows it, his feet have led him to Taemin’s apartment.

It’s all a bit ridiculous, since he has no idea whether Taemin is even home right now or what excuse he’s going to have to come up with to justify this visit.

The apartment is nothing like their dorm; there are no guards, no security cameras, nothing to prevent him from going right up to Taemin’s door and knocking on it. No one answers, and Kibum supposes that Taemin is still at work. Had he been a burglar, he could have had a field day. Then again, there probably isn’t much of value in flats like these, certainly nothing a burglar could sell for enough of a profit to justify the risk and effort of burglary.

Kibum waits in the small, dark corridor for almost half an hour before a familiar figure comes up the stairs. Taemin does a double-take when he sees Kibum.

“What are you doing here?”

Would that he had an answer. Kibum shrugs, and says “I just wanted to see how you were doing. Did you just come back from work? Let’s get lunch.”

Before Taemin can protest, Kibum catches him by the elbow and all but drags him down and out of the apartment. “Where do you want to eat? Is there anyplace around here that’s good and where I won’t, you know, get pickpocketed again?”

“Ummm…there’s a ramyeon place that’s a couple of streets away.”

“Isn’t ramyeon practically the only thing you can cook in your flat? Surely, now that I’m offering to buy you lunch and you can eat whatever you want, you’d like to pick something other than ing ramyeon?”

Taemin thinks for a moment and says “There’s a bar on the main road which does fantastic chicken wings, but you have to buy a pitcher as well because it’s a set deal sort of thing.”

“Alcohol at lunch?” Kibum shrugs. “Eh, why not. It’s my day off anyway.”

The bar Taemin is talking about takes the trophy for being the seediest, saddest shell of an entertainment spot Kibum has ever walked into, but to its credit appears to be the most well maintained building on the street. The bar is relatively empty, save for a couple of men in suits being a little rowdy in a corner. Taemin finds them a booth that’s hidden from view behind some arcade game. It’s a little unnecessary, Kibum thinks, because he doubts anyone here even listens to pop music.

It takes a good quarter of an hour before the hostess comes to take their order, and Kibum hopes that it will take at least twice as long before the food comes; he’s not actually hungry.

He’s lost in his thought about the calories in chicken wings and beer when Taemin calls him.

“Key-hyung.”

“Hmmm?”

“Did you go and see Jonghyun-hyung?”

~

After he discovers them snogging in the kitchen, Taemin becomes unbearable. It’s not as if he threatens to tell the others or makes inappropriate jokes or uses it as blackmail material; that, Kibum can deal with.

What he does instead is to persistently badger Minho, Onew and Jin to take him out, which of course leaves Jonghyun and Kibum at home alone. He messes up their group formation by standing in odd places, and in the ensuing confusion Kibum finds himself within -slapping distance of Jonghyun. Whenever they so much as walk out of a corridor together, he gives them a wide grin and a thumbs up sign, as if to say ‘good job making out under the noses of the entire company’, when all they have done is walk down the damn corridor together. It doesn’t help that Jjong is actually a giant toddler in disguise; he jumps at these opportunities to have his hands on Kibum and is completely oblivious to the way the Jinki, Minho, the managers and the fans look at them as if they’re about to rip each other’s clothes off on stage. Kibum is just grateful that they’re done with filming Hello Baby, because Taemin’s obsession with them being a couple would have been caught on camera and broadcasted to an entire country.

It becomes too much to handle when Kibum opens his sock and underwear drawer, in the room he shares with Jonghyun, to find a box of spiral condoms. ‘For maximum pleasure’, the box proclaims proudly, and Kibum wonders briefly when Jonghyun found the time to hunt these down and why before remembering that the elder had turned his nose up in disdain at the idea of non-conventionally shaped condoms. It’s just alien-weird, he’d said, and Kibum had been too preoccupied with whatever he had been doing to question his logic.

Which only means one thing.

Taemin.

Marching into the hall, he pulls Taemin up from the couch where he’s playing some sort of football game with Minho. Both boys protest, and Kibum shuts them up by saying “I need Taemin for five minutes, right now.”

The managers aren’t around, so he bundles Taemin into his jacket and harries him out of the door, mindful that he’s just lied about borrowing Taemin for five minutes. Still, this is more important than a stupid video game. If Taemin is surprised about the sudden outing, he doesn’t say anything. It’s so easy to kidnap him, Kibum muses, and reminds himself to keep a closer eye on Taemin at events.

He leads Taemin to the park behind the flat, which is quiet at this time of the day since people are mostly at work or school. In fact, he looks around and doesn’t spot a single soul.

“Taemin-ah, we need to talk about what you saw the other night.”

Taemin makes a face. “I wasn’t watching , I swear, I was just flipping the channels and it landed on some sort of horror movie and the two girls just started making out in the middle-”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant, although that’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard. Anyway, not the point. I meant me and Jjong.”

A smile breaks out on Taemin’s face; the same idiotic grin he’s been haunting them with. “Don’t worry, I think you guys are great together.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. I mean, thank you so much for keeping our secret, but for the love of God, Tae, if you carry on like this, you’re going to get us caught.”

“I haven’t said anything to anyone, I promise.” Taemin looks a little disturbed, as if he’s upset by the idea that Kibum considers him capable of spilling such an important secret, and Kibum feels a tiny twinge of his conscience.

“I know you didn’t. But you try to make us stand together and make heart shapes towards us on stage and it doesn’t help because it means that everyone’s watching us that much closer.”

“I just think you’re cute,” Taemin says, lips downturned. “And it’s just skinship on stage, right? It’s not like you and Jonghyun-hyung haven’t been overly touchy from the beginning, or the fans wouldn’t be so hung up on Jongkey.”

“Yes, but then there’s the other members-”

“We gossip about you all the time,” Taemin interrupts. “More than you’d think. Jinki-hyung thinks you’re not together yet because you’re just stubborn and Jonghyun-hyung is a bit scared of you, Minho-hyung thinks you are together and that you’re going to forget that it’s a secret on stage one day, which is why he’s constantly trying to stand between the two of you, and even the managers sometimes ask us to tag along when you two go off somewhere alone. Gyeongshik thinks it’s fine and Jin doesn’t like it, and Minhye-noona says you’re her OTP.”

It’s a bit shocking, really, to know the extent of everyone’s interest in their love life.

“Why did they let us room together if they’re so worried about it?”

“Jinie-hyung said it’s better that you two have your own space than to have you sneaking off to closets or bathrooms where you’re more likely to get caught.”

“He knows?”

“He suspects, but,” Taemin shrugs “he’s a bit secretive, so I don’t know what he really thinks. But I get what you’re saying, I won’t do that stuff anymore. I didn’t think it would make things difficult for you. Shall we go back?”

Now Kibum feels bad, even though he’s only doing what is necessary, and he circles Taemin’s wrist with his fingers before the maknae can move away. “I’m not finished. We should have been more careful that night, because it’s not just the two of us who would have been affected if a manager had walked in on us, and I’m glad it was you. And I’m sorry, too, because our secret is not a burden you should have to bear.”

“But it’s not a burden,” Taemin protests. “I’m happy to do it.”

Kibum doesn’t understand. “Why?”

“It’s…” the maknae breaks off, thinking. “It’s like, when you watched Spirited Away, you cried when Chihiro remembered Haku’s name.”

He remembers, mainly because he’s cried at that scene at least three times now.

“And, like, why did that affect you so much? It’s not like it was going to make a difference to your life whether Haku got his name back. It wouldn’t even have affected whether Chihiro managed to save her parents, because Yubaba’s sister was the one who helped her with that. And yet you cried, because you were happy for Haku and Chihiro, because they found each other even after all that time.”

“I guess so.”

“It’s like that. Seeing you two together is like that. I don’t have to be involved or benefiting from the two of you being together to be happy that you are.”

That is when Kibum ducks his head, because Taemin’s words are making him feel things he didn’t expect to when he dragged him out here. The group likes to make fun of the maknae for living in his own head, but Taemin always surprises him with things like this.

“Hyung?” When Kibum doesn’t look up, Taemin continues. “Your happiness is not a burden.”

“Aish, this kid,” Kibum exclaims; he can’t say much more if he doesn’t want his tears to spill. It’s so unselfish, what Taemin is saying, and he feels so proud of the boy sitting next to him – for being so open-minded in a country so embedded in its prejudice, for being on their side, for just caring about them – that he finally understands why his parents become so emotional over his achievements, even the ones which he considers no big deal at all. “Come here,” he orders, not waiting for Taemin to obey before pulling him into a full-bodied hug.

“Does this mean I can carry on-”

“No.”

Taemin pouts. “Fine.”

Kibum laughs, and loops their arms together to walk back to the dorm. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

“What?”

“Out of all the members, and all the managers, I like you best.”

That makes Taemin smile; the sort of genuine smile which has his already angelic face glowing with good humour. “More than Jonghyun-hyung?” he teases.

“Jjong is my favourite person ever, band or no band.”

“Wow, that sounds like something he would say.”

“I know.” Kibum makes a disgusted face, one that makes Taemin giggle. “I’ve caught his rabies.”

They laugh their way out of the park. When the apartment complex comes within sight, Kibum remembers why he brought Taemin out here. “Oh, and the thing you did with the condoms, please never do that again. It’s so unbelievably creepy.”

Taemin shrugs. “I got them from this girl. It was a bit weird to get it on, but she really seemed to be into it, and it was a bit, I don’t know, good but in an odd way for me, so I asked her what they were and she gave me the whole box. I didn’t think I’d be using them again, so I figured you guys would get a kick out of it.”

“You really have no idea what boundaries are, do you?” Kibum supposes this is a result of being forced to share an apartment with five other people, and wonders what life must be like for their Suju sunbaes.

“Key-hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“I like you better than the others,” Taemin admits, a hint of a blush colouring his cheeks. It’s so cute, not least because Kibum already knows he’s Taemin’s favourite; he’s the one who gives in to the maknae’s whims and demands the most.

“Hello, I’m the Almighty Key. I’m everybody’s favourite. If you said you liked somebody else better, I’d be seriously insulted.”

~

“Yeah, I did. He’s fine, they’re fixing his nose today, and he didn’t even need plastic surgery or anything.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Of course. He…we can’t be friends, according to him. If we’re not together, we’re nothing.” Kibum shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, and wishes desperately that Taemin will not pursue this line of conversation. “Whatever. So, tell me, what does a non-idol person do with their day?”

Taemin flicks a fried anchovy at him; the hostess had left a truly miserable portion of the snack on their table when she’d taken their order, and Kibum does not approve of this wastage. “Yah!”

“As if you don’t have any non-idol friends.”

“Not idol, per se, but people who aren’t involved in the entertainment industry.”

“I was supposed to go house-hunting.”

“You still haven’t found a place?”

Taemin shakes his head. “It’s not as easy as you’d think.”

“I’ll come along with you,” Kibum says, uncaring that he’s basically inviting himself to something Taemin would probably want to do alone.

“Really?” Taemin asks. “Yay. You can do all the haggling, you’re really good at that.”

And so Kibum does. In the course of one afternoon, he explores parts of Seoul he’s never seen before; out-of-the-way places, with too-small terrace houses all in desperately in need of some DIY, and inner city places, full of high-rises with peeling paint and clothes hanging from the window. He meets an assortment of people, little old ladies looking to rent out rooms their children once lived in and beer-stained young adults who have bought apartments for the purpose of living off rent money, and argues with them over rent and utilities and furnishing.

The last place they see is an apartment closer to the more habitable parts of the city. The owner, a middle-aged woman, explains that the apartment has four rooms and that she’s hoping for four tenants, but since Taemin is the only one thus far who has shown interest in the place, he’ll have to live alone until some other tenants turn up.

She leaves them to look around, and Kibum finds himself staring out of the window in the master bedroom. The sun has almost set, and the city slowly lights up before his eyes. Taemin is exploring the flat, trying to decide which room he likes best, and Kibum allows the false happiness that he’s cloaked himself with all day to fall away. Jjong’s words have been hanging over him like Damocles’ dagger since his visit, and he wonders what will happen when the vocalist returns to the band.

A sudden touch startles him from his thoughts; before he can react, Taemin has him held securely in a back-hug.

“Wae?” Kibum asks, not quite understanding this sudden show of affection.

He feels more than sees Taemin shake his head, but the younger’s grip does not loosen.

~

The other members, save Minho, are careful around him after the jump, and Kibum knows why; he’s borderline manic with all that adrenaline thrumming in his blood, and no one wants to be around for the inevitable crash. Minho, of course, couldn’t care less, but even he has the sense not to aggravate him with one of his ridiculous attempts at establishing his place as Kibum’s sunbae at the moment.

Being trapped in a theme park, surrounded by camera crew and dozens of curious onlookers, does very little to help his nerves. Jonghyun tries to distract him by talking about random things, things unrelated to bungee-jumping, but Kibum finds himself distracted. He wants to dwell on the feeling; that rush, that fear, of throwing himself off a tower knowing that the only thing that will keep him alive is a flimsy string.

Kibum skips lunch, and heads to the tour bus for a nap; it is an oasis of calm in the middle of the frenzy that is part of a theme park experience. He draws all of the curtains to create as much darkness as possible and curls up on the hard seat.

Unfortunately, sleep does not come. Instead, Kibum lies there and relives the moment when the ground had disappeared under his feet, the way his stomach had dropped when he tipped over that edge, and the way falling felt like nothing like falling and everything like flying. He’s a little proud of the fact that he made the jump, but more than anything he’s embarrassed at the way he made such a fuss over something that eventually turned out to be fun when his dongsaengs did it so easily.

As his mind drifts like an untethered balloon caught in the wind, Kibum becomes aware of voices close to the bus; closer than the random chatter that has been filtering in. The bus door opens then, and he hears today’s noona say “Wow, so jjang. This is a very luxurious bus for a rookie band. I wonder what else you’ve got hidden inside.”

Please no, Kibum thinks. He just wants to be alone.

“Be my guest, Noona, come-” Jjong starts to say, but another voice cuts him off.

“No, the manager says no one should come in with us.”

It’s Taemin.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, what he doesn’t know-”

“I’ll tell Jin-hyung that you’re disobeying him.”

“It’s alright,” the noona says. “I’ll come back another time. See you guys later.”

There is silence after that, and Kibum lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jjong’s voice is even closer now, so they must be inside the bus.

“My problem is that you’re such a bastard,” Taemin replies, and it is the venom in his voice more than the profanity that catches Kibum’s attention. His next thought is to question what Jjong did to earn such hate from someone so mild-mannered. If he’s lashing out, something must be disturbing him.

Jjong apparently thinks the same thing, because he asks with uncharacteristic patience “Taemin-ah, what’s wrong?”

“You should have lost.”

“What?”

“That stupid tug-of-war game! You should have lost to Key-hyung. What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t know his fear of heights was that bad.”

Taemin snorts. “Please. After the way he screamed his way through the roller coaster ride?”

Kibum feels the tips of his ears grow hot in embarrassment.

“He liked it eventually,” Jjong says, apparently trying to cajole Taemin into forgiving him. “So maybe it was a good thing.”

“Hyung was so scared when we went up, and the cameraman was just laughing at him. You don’t know how much I wanted to push him off, I-” there is a slight tremor in Taemin’s voice now, and he stops talking.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jjong says softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about it earlier, you know I would have thrown the game if I’d thought about it, but Kibum will be fine. He’s tough that way.”

“Hyung always looks out for us, all of us. And we don’t do anything for him. I told the PD that I could jump twice, I could pretend to be Key and wear his t-shirt and style my hair like his, and if they film us from far enough no one can the difference, but he wouldn’t listen. It’s not-”

“Shhhh,” Jjong says suddenly, sounding a lot closer.

There is the sound of footsteps, and Kibum can almost feel the two of them staring at him. He takes deep breaths, yoga breaths, to make it look like he’s deep in sleep; if one of them touches him, though, they’d see through the façade right away because of the speed at which his heart is beating.

“Should we wake him?” Taemin asks. “We’re going to film some more, right?”

“Let him sleep,” Jjong says. “I’ll come and get him later.” 

The footsteps get further from him now, until he hears them go down the stairs of the bus, and Kibum is alone again. He doesn’t quite know what to feel about the depth of Taemin’s loyalty to him; he’s fond of the boy, as are all of the members, but now he feels like someone who’s stopped to pet a puppy by the side of the road only to find that the little thing is willing to walk over coals for him. Granted, bungee-jumping is not the equivalent of walking over coals, especially since Taemin seems to have enjoyed it, but the warmth that he feels over Taemin’s affection for him lingers nonetheless.

Feeling somewhat steadier now, Kibum leaves the sanctuary of the bus and seeks out his bandmates. He finds them sitting in the parks one and only restaurant, McDonald’s, with the rest of the crew.

When he slips into a seat between Jjong and Taemin, Jin takes the opportunity to ask him “How are you feeling?”

Kibum shrugs, knowing that Minho is probably huffing inside at his ‘rudeness’ to their senior manager. “I’ll be fine. Would it be okay to have some ice-cream?”

They’re not allowed a lot of sweet or fattening foods now that they’re idols, but Kibum knows an opportunity when he sees one. 

Jin thinks for a while, and pulls a couple of bills from his wallet. “Here. Get whatever you want.”

Kibum smiles his most angelic smile, and tugs at Taemin to follow him. The younger grumbles and clings to his seat. “Come on, Tae,” he cajoles, playing the sympathy card. “My hands are still shaking. I don’t think I’ll be able to carry anything properly.”

At the counter, out of sight of the rest of the troop, Kibum orders an Oreo McFlurry and one of the smaller, cheaper soft-serve ice-creams. Taemin raises an eyebrow at that, no doubt surprised at his apparent greed. “Are you sure you can finish that?” 

Wordlessly, Kibum hands him the smaller ice-cream. Taemin’s fingers snatch the cone, as if he’s afraid that Kibum will rescind his offer, but his eyes light up with glee.

“Hyung, why did-”

“There was change left, and I wanted to spend all of Jin’s money. Now hurry up and eat before someone comes looking for us.”

They finish their ice-creams by the counter, and Kibum wipes all traces of chocolate from Taemin’s lips and nose, thinking how starved he must look to all the other patrons. Satisfied that there is no evidence of their minor rebellion left, Kibum turns to leave, but suddenly finds himself caught in a backhug; Taemin holds on tightly, and then lets go before he can say anything.

“And what was that for?” he finally asks.

Taemin shakes his head. “Do you feel better now?”

Kibum does, and he finds it ironic that the reason for his being alright is an oblivious shrimp of a boy who he once saw as his bitterest rival. “Yeah. Come on, I bet Jin’s already guessed that I’ve shared my ice-cream with you.”

~

 “I can’t afford to stay here,” Taemin says, his words muffled by speaking into Kibum’s shoulder.

“It’s not that much more expensive than the other places we saw. And look,” he gestures at the view “this is the only place that doesn’t cause you depression when you look out of the window. That’s got to be worth paying for, right?”

“A little is a lot when you’re living from payday to payday,” Taemin counters. “If I spend more on rent, I have less to spend on food. And I’ll have to pay more to commute to work.”

It’s all perfectly true, and Kibum is a little amazed at how quickly Taemin has calculated what the rent will do to his monthly budget; once upon a time, he couldn’t even be bothered to figure out how much change he was supposed to be given whenever he bought something.

“I could make up the difference.”

The arms around him fall away, and Kibum turns to see Taemin looking resolute. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t live off your charity. Anyone’s charity. It’s nothing personal-”

“I’m not doing it for your sake,” Kibum says. He has an idea how to handle this. “This is the first place we’ve seen so far where I don’t have to fear for my safety if I come to visit. And it’s closer to the dorm. Consider the top-up payment or something for staying someplace convenient for me to visit.”

“Like a mistress?” Taemin says; his words are sharp, but the amused glittering of his eyes gives away the fact that Kibum has won this round.

“Exactly.” Kibum claps his hands together. “Now call that ahjumma and tell her you’re taking this place, and then we’ll go and celebrate.” He knows he’s being a little manic, but he doesn’t want to go back to the dorm and being with Taemin inexplicably makes him feel better. Maybe it’s because it’s the one part of his life that doesn’t make him feel like a failure.

“Celebrate? How?”

“Noraebang?” 

~~~

Elephants.

Jinki hates them.

One had materialised in the room when Jonghyun had walked in to discover that Key was not around and sighed with relief. The other had appeared when Jonghyun had croaked a greeting at him and Minho, thus shattering their hopes that his vocal recovery would be swift. Gyeongshik had helped the lead vocalist to his room, and Minho muttered something about sleeping over at Nickhun’s and left, leaving Jinki alone with the elephants.

That was a couple of hours ago. Key has been MIA since the shooting of their music video, and despite Gyeongshik’s reassurances that Key is quite capable of taking care of himself, Jinki waits in the living for the younger to return.

When the darkest hour passes, and the sky begins to lighten, Jinki hears the telltale beeps of their house passcode being keyed in. Key steps in then, toeing his shoes off carefully and arranging them beside the army laid out on their threshold.

Jinki watches him silently, wondering what he can say that won’t make things worse between Key and Jonghyun.

“Ah, why are you awake yeonggam?” Key is loud, and his words are slurred together.

“Quiet,” Jinki orders. “Jonghyun is asleep.”

A look of surprise crosses Key’s face. “They released him? So soon?”

“Yes. We tried calling you, but you weren’t answering your phone.”

Key sits down next to him, and Jinki sees the dark circles under his eyes; smells soju and smoke on his clothes. “Where have you been?”

“I was with Taemin.” It’s a quiet confession, and Jinki wonders whether it is the alcohol talking or whether Key is so tired of keeping secrets that he’s sharing one now. He wonders why Key chose to confide in him.

“How is he?” He doesn’t particularly care about Taemin, although he would be lying if he said he isn’t curious about the former maknae at all, but he can’t think of anything else to say.

“He has the most beautiful voice,” Key says, eyes drifting shut. “You should hear him, hyung. So...so…I don’t know, angelic but also husky. You’d think he’d have forgotten, what, two years without vocal training, but he’s...do you know he can hit all of Jjong’s notes now? Even the Lucifer note?”

“He sang for you?”

“We went to noraebang. To celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“Mmmhhmmm…he’s my mistress.” Key giggles at that, seeming not to notice that Jinki hasn’t been let in on the joke. “I bought him a house.”

“What?”

“Well, I should have bought him a house, but I helped him find a place to rent. Pretty sure that means I’m a failure as a sugar daddy, but at least I’m consistent.”

Whatever response Jinki had planned dies in his throat. Key is tipsy, but Jinki can see clearly that he is also deeply upset. Jinki is willing to bet that whatever has upset him has something to do with Jonghyun, and realises that Key must have visited him at some point before the surgery. Any hope he has that the toxic atmosphere caused by the feuding younger members can be resolved vanishes.

“I think you should go to bed.”

Key waves a careless hand at him. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Ignoring Key’s lack of respect, Jinki clasps him around the middle and hauls him to his feet. “Come on,” he says. “Bed, now.”

He doesn’t know what reaction he’s expecting, but it’s certainly not for Key to gently extricate himself from his grasp and say “Hyung, it’s fine. I’m going to shower and make breakfast, and you…you are going to stop worrying about things nobody can fix. I promise I’ll try not to aggravate Jjong, and you know I won’t do anything that can screw up the comeback.”

Key – or rather, Kibum – walks down the hall to fetch towels from the laundry room, humming some song under his breath.

The day has to come, Jinki thinks, when he will be of some use to s.    

~

The comeback is merely a week away, and Jinki is already exhausted. The managers make sure that they’re at the studio before the sun rises, polishing their vocals and learning how to convey complex emotions in the fluttering of eyelashes and squaring of jaws from acting coaches; at the gym all afternoon because this concept requires them to be ethereal and in SM’s vocabulary that apparently means looking borderline anorexic.

There is no rest to be found in the dorm, either. Key becomes increasingly frustrated when he doesn’t shed the pounds as fast as Jinki or Minho. Jonghyun still seems to think that he can recover in time to join their comeback stage, and gets frustrated at every practice because his voice hasn’t come back. Minho is fine, until that happy day when the management cancels his Dream Team appearance because it clashed with a Nylon photoshoot, and then even he starts moping.

But worst of all is the undercurrent of animosity between Jonghyun and Key; it’s oppressive, the way the air becomes thick and heavy just before a storm breaks. They don’t talk apart from the odd sentence about scheduling or work. Jinki has lost count of the number of times he’s seen Jonghyun open his mouth to make a comment about something, only to shut it when he looks at Key. Key, as he promised, is respectful and patient with Jonghyun, his trademark sarcasm replaced with what comes off as submission.

They’re lucky that Jonghyun is still off promotional activities, because there is no one in the world blind enough to not notice that something is wrong with them.

~

Despite being warned by the managers to be on their best behaviour, Key does nothing to disguise his rage at Jonghyun. It poisons the air at the dorm, in the car and backstage.

If nothing else, Key’s reaction to the news that Jonghyun has been seeing Sekyung gives away the fact that their relationship is not platonic. Key’s reaction is not one of a band member or a friend; it’s that of a betrayed lover. Minho stays well out of their way, and Jinki would too, had he not been ordered to stay between the two of them by Jin.

He can see Jin’s rationale; Key looks like he’s one twitch away from a tirade, but Jonghyun seems oblivious to this rage. He still smiles that same I’m-smitten-with-you smile at Key and tries to reach out and touch him. Jinki is always there to make sure this doesn’t happen, and he imagines that when the time comes that he’s not there to stand between them, this blasé attitude with have disastrous consequences.

He’s right.

They finish what must be the saddest performance of Hello of all time, and traipse backstage to avoid spending more time in the spotlight. Jinki is too preoccupied with adjusting his microphone to notice that Jonghyun has managed to get within arms’ reach of Key until it is too late.

One moment, he’s fiddling with the maladjusted battery of the mike pack, and the next he’s looking up to see Jonghyun catch Key’s arm. “Yah, did you see-“

Before he can finish the sentence, Key rips his arm away and shoves him into the wall.

“Don’t you dare touch me.”

It’s such a disorienting sight, to see the muscular lead singer being held against a wall by the smaller, thinner dancer. Jonghyun makes no attempt to resist. Key’s arm is across Jonghyun’s neck and the latter is forced to stand on his tiptoes to not have his air supply cut off. But most of all, Jinki can feel the fury radiating from the younger; in that moment, he’s not Key, the almighty singer-dancer-rapper of SHINee and best friend to Jonghyun, but Kibum, the boy who’s just had his heart broken.

“Don’t touch me, don’t talk to me, don’t even look in my direction. I will kill you.”

Jin rushes forward to pull them apart, before they can do any more harm to each other or to their reputation, but Key lets go before the manager can reach them and stalks off toward the van. Jinki turns to look at Jonghyun, and catches the stricken expression on his face before the latter schools it into something less emotional.

~

They made up, eventually, in bits and starts and awkward conversations. Kintsokuroi, Key had said to Jinki, when he remarked that it was nice to see that them be friends again. The beauty of a broken thing lies in the fact that it has been repaired, and is all the more beautiful for it.

Still, Jinki wonders, how many times can something be broken before it becomes completely irreparable? 

Jinki flips the channel again, not really watching whatever is on the television. They’re all at home because the comeback stage is tomorrow and the management wanted them home early so that they could be energetic tomorrow. Jinki hadn’t bothered to explain that this weariness is a weariness of the soul, knowing that they wouldn’t understand even if he did.

He can hear unhappy sounds filter out of Jonghyun’s room. The lead vocalist has been practicing at all hours, hoping to bring his voice back to what it used to be before the accident. It’s not a surprise to anyone that this is taking longer than projected, because the injury was more serious than the average nose-break, but Jonghyun doesn’t seem to want to accept this fact.

Jinki would be lying if he says he isn’t worried at all; SHINee cannot survive with Jonghyun, but it’s far too soon to start worrying about that.

Today, it’s Hello. Jonghyun had started off with Y Si Fuera Ella a couple of days ago, and slowly downgraded to Lucifer, Dream Girl and a couple of other songs as he failed to hold his notes. Hello is no challenge at all for Jonghyun on a good day, but he hasn’t had one of those in a while.

When he hits yet another bum note, Jinki winces. Key comes out of the kitchen, where he has been making yet another disgusting vegetable smoothie for dinner.  It’s unnecessary, in Jinki’s opinion, because Kibum doesn’t need to be stick-thin to look alien like their new concept requires; he’s already got that strange, cat-like aura. Their eyes meet and Jinki can see his concern for Jonghyun mirrored in them.

Just then, the singing stops. Jinki breathes a silent sigh of relief and Key looks somewhat more relaxed as he joins him on the couch.

“What’s this?”

Jinki squints at the screen, realising that he hasn’t been paying attention to the television at all. “Uhhhh…”

“Yah, this is one of the stupid, forever-running dramas. Change it over to the Strange Housekeeper, I’ve managed to follow that so far.”

“It’s on now?” Jinki asks, reaching for the remote.

“Yeah.”

Before he can make the change, though, there is a strange sound from Jonghyun’s room; tinkling, almost musical, but too violent at the same time. Glass, Jinki realises belatedly. It’s the sound of shattering glass.

Key is already at Jonghyun’s door, pounding furiously. “Jjong!” he calls out, loud enough to draw Minho and Jin from their respective rooms.

Jinki stands up, television forgotten.

“What’s wrong?” Jin asks him.

“Jonghyun was in his room, and then we heard a noise.”

At any other time, this pathetic explanation would have earned him eye-rolls and turned backs, but somehow everyone knows that this isn’t something they can walk away from.

“I’m fine,” Jonghyun says from inside. He sounds shaken.

“I don’t care,” Key says, still leaning against the door. “Unlock the door.”

“For ’s sake, just leave me alone.”

Jin disappears down the hall and reappears with his keys. “Are you sure you can handle this?” he asks Key, holding the keys just out of the latter’s reach.

“Yeah.” Key sounds unsure; as unsure as Jinki is of the wisdom of letting Key of all people deal with a volatile Jonghyun. “No one else can.”

When Key opens the door, Jinki catches sight of shards of glass scattered over floor, and Jonghyun kneeling in a corner, face hidden in his hands. How very like Jonghyun, Jinki thinks, that his breakdown looks like a scene from a silent movie, before Key steps in and closes the door behind him.

The temptation to press against the door arises, but Jinki backs away. “Minho-yah,” he calls, ensuring that the younger stays away as well “come and help me wash up in the kitchen.”

“Neh, hyung,” Minho says, following obediently. “What’s there to clean up?”

“Kibum was making a smoothie earlier.”

Minho makes a face at the mention of smoothie, and Jinki sympathises.

~~~

The sound of the alarm’s keys being pressed alerts him to the return of his bandmates. Less than a minute later, they troop in, looking somewhat more tired than he’d imagined.

“Did you watch us, hyung?” Minho asks, while the others shuffle off to their respective rooms.

Jonghyun did – he’d sat down and watched as his three members sang his song on their comeback stage – and realised that he had, in some small part of himself, been hoping for them to fail. The concept had worked, though; the stage was done up like a forest, with fake trees and wisps of cotton artfully arranged to imitate mist, upon which the members perched like wood nymphs. Their diets and tortuous workout regimes have clearly worked, because he could see Kibum’s collarbones through his top and Minho’s already spindly legs looked breakable in his black tights. They’d sang, and the crowd of Shawols gathered there had cheered faithfully, apparently uncaring that the lead vocalist and composer of the song was absent.

It wasn’t how he imagined the song would be sung, but he had to admit to himself that it worked.

SHINee could survive without him.

It was silly to think otherwise; after all, they survived without Taemin, didn’t they?

“Yeah. It was daebak,” he says, giving Minho two thumbs up. Minho’s a lot softer than he’s portrayed, and Jonghyun knows that any sign of jealousy from him will make the younger sad. “Why’d you take so long to come back?”

Minho yawns and stretches. “We had to go film some interview for Show Champion after that. It took nine takes, if you can believe that, and Kibum was falling asleep in between takes. I wouldn’t have thought about it before, but not dancing is more tiring than dancing.”

Jonghyun shrugs. “You should rest then. Or do you want to go out and get tteokbokki?”

That makes Minho groan. “Don’t say tteokbokki, hyung. I would kill for tteokbokki.”

“Understood,” Jonghyun smiles. “Go on, go to bed. I’m sure you’ve got orders to be up early tomorrow.”

After he’s sent Minho off, Jonghyun reclaims his spot on the couch and channel surfs. He’s a bit too keyed-up to sleep, and it’s not like he has a schedule tomorrow or this week or possibly for the rest of his entire life, if his voice doesn’t come back, so he doesn’t even have to be up early.

Someone sits down beside him. It’s Kibum, wet-haired and smelling fresh after his shower. Jonghyun doesn’t know what Kibum expects him to do; after their confrontation in the hospital, they’ve been avoiding each other, and rightfully so.

Kibum hands a boxset to him. He takes it wordlessly, and studies the cover. It’s a collection of Studio Ghibli films.

“I found it on discount,” Kibum says. “Let’s have a marathon.”

Before Jonghyun can say anything, Kibum takes the boxset back and wanders over to the entertainment system.

“Do we have any snacks?” he asks with his back turned.

“Uh…” Jonghyun doesn’t know how he’s supposed to react.

Kibum stands up and tosses the remote to him. “I’ll go look, or make something. You set it up.”

“Okay,” he says. Whatever it is Kibum is up to, he’ll play along for now. “What do you want to see?”

“Chronological order? But if there’s something you want to see first, I don’t mind.”

Jonghyun cannot shake the discomfort he feels, even after they’ve watched the first half hour of My Neighbour Totoro, but Kibum doesn’t seem to notice. They’re sitting on different ends of the couch, munching on baby carrots from the bowl Kibum’s put between them, as if there’s not a care in the world, and Jonghyun still hasn’t figured out what Kibum is trying to accomplish.

“You know they’re going to release two new movies this year?”

“Huh?”

“Studio Ghibli. There’s going to be one historical drama about the maker of Japanese fighter planes and one based on Japanese folklore.”

“Kaguya Hime No-Monogatari. It’s a pretty famous story.”

“Mmmm.” Kibum draws his knees up, settling in comfortably. “I think I saw a trailer…or maybe it was just concept drawings, I’m not so sure, and they were beautiful. It’s based on traditional Japanese brushwork.”

“Are you going to learn that in your classes?” Kibum had joined university recently, as if he isn’t busy enough, as an art major. It’s a ridiculously useless degree, in Jonghyun’s opinion, but it’s not as if Kibum is depending on that degree for work.

“Not in the first year. I think it’s one of the year two options, but I’m not sure it’s something I want to study.”

They chatter on and off through the movie, and Kibum plays Omohide Poro Poro next. Jonghyun stretches and moves the empty bowl down onto the floor. It’s almost three.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Not tired enough. It’s a good thing that the company scheduled the comeback on a Thursday, because even if we’re tired we have the weekend to sleep on. Now shut up, I always miss the beginning of this movie and I want to see it properly this time.”

~

On Friday night, they watch Porco Rosso, and get drawn into a good-natured debate about Miyazaki’s obsession with flying, so much so that they forgo watching a second movie in favour of googling Freudian explanations for it. 

On Saturday night, Jonghyun excuses himself from the dorm to sleep at home. He finds himself lying awake at night in the silence of his house, until Kibum sends him a text informing him that they’ve missed Kiki’s Delivery Service and he’s going to watch it by himself. Jonghyun texts him back with a warning not to, because he likes that movie as well.

On Monday night, they watch Kiki and Pom Poko. Kibum makes the snidest remarks all the way through the second, unable to contain his intolerance over the tanukis’ incompetence at protecting their homeland. Jonghyun laughs so much that he snorts hot tea through his nose. Kibum rolls off the couch laughing at his misery, and Jinki trudges out of his room to tell them to keep it down.

On Tuesday, Jonghyun has the player set up by the time the members return from their Dream Team schedule. He’s also taken the liberty of walking Comme Des and Garcons. They’re halfway through Mimo o Sumaseba when Jonghyun looks over to see Kibum soundly asleep, all of his limbs bent at uncomfortable angles. 

And he finally gets it.

~

The door clicks shut behind Kibum, something Jonghyun notices even though he hasn’t looked up yet. He had known, almost subconsciously, that breaking the mirror would draw the attention of everyone in the dorm, but he just wants to be alone right now.

“Just go away,” he forces himself to say.

“I will when you stop acting like you’re five. Yoogeun was more mature than you.”

It’s not what Jonghyun wants to hear right now. He wipes the tears away from his face and stands up. “There, temper tantrum over. Can you leave now?” 

Kibum does.

Alone again, and unable to summon the strength to be angry at his fate once more, Jonghyun flops down on his bed. His voice – it’s the one thing he has going for him – and he’s the idiot who destroys it by falling asleep at the wheel and rear-ending a stationary vehicle. His whole life is gone and he has no one to blame but himself.

The door opens again, and Jonghyun curses the fact that he didn’t have the foresight to lock it after chasing Kibum out.

Kibum comes in again with a cup of tea and a dustpan. Jonghyun refuses to look at the tea, even when Kibum holds it out to him, and continues to ignore the younger when he sets the cup onto the nightstand with a sigh. He can hear Kibum sweeping up the broken shards of glass, and picking up the larger pieces, and each sound is an aggravation.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“You’re being an idiot.”

“Why do you care?”

The noises stop. Seconds later, Kibum’s shadow falls over him, blocking the light. “Your voice isn’t going to come back any faster if you keep pushing yourself like this.”

Jonghyun snorts. He’s heard that line from everyone he knows, but none of them seem to understand why it’s not a comfort. “What would you know?”

“I know it to miss having a comeback on your own song. But this is what’s happened and this is what everyone’s going to have to work with. So instead of torturing youself, you should appreciate the time you’ve got off, have some fun while we’re all being worked half to death and let your body heal in its own time.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Jonghyun isn’t entirely sure why he’s baring himself like this to Kibum. He had made his position quite clear, and it’s not as if their relationship had been particularly good before that; looking back, they had been falling apart ever since Kibum started dating Seop. Perhaps it is an ingrained habit, one he’s picked up in his trainee days and not quite unlearnt. Perhaps it’s because no one else understands him the way Kibum does.

“Then it doesn’t.”

Jonghyun wants to laugh. He really shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“But Jjong, it’s not even been a month. The doctors said you should have a full recovery, so it’s not even like it’s a fifty-fifty thing, it’s just you having to wait. And if you don’t recover then we’ll have to figure something out, but,” Kibum sighs again, and sits down on the tiny sliver of space between Jonghyun’s body and the edge of the mattress. “But you don’t know that yet. Nothing bad has happened yet.”

Oddly, Kibum’s words are comforting.

“You don’t know that it’s going to be okay.”

Kibum shrugs. “I don’t. But I think it will. You sound alright, you just need rest. Your technique is dependent on your breathing, and you’re straining your vocal chords to try and make the same sounds that you did when you weren’t starved of oxygen. You’re still breathing through your mouth, not your nose, and you need to work on that first before you’re ready to handle Lucifer.”

He has nothing to say to that. Kibum doesn’t seem to mind, though, because he hands him the tea again.

“Here, drink this before it gets completely cold and disgusting.”

“Thank you. And sorry, for not helping with the glass.”

“That’s nothing.”

~

To think it took him so long.

Kibum is doing what he’s always done; he’s being Jonghyun’s friend. More than that, he’s being his best friend.

And Jonghyun needs this. He was telling the truth when he said that he had always been more-than-platonic with Kibum, but there was nevertheless a strong friendship between them. He hadn’t realised it because that’s always lasted, even when they were going through rough patches, but denying its existence has forced him to acknowledge what an integral part of his life it is. He doesn’t know how to be distant with Kibum.

Looking over at Kibum, Jonghyun regrets his words at the hospital. He’ll never be comfortable with Kibum dating Seop, but it’s about time he accepted the fact that Kibum has a right to be happy with someone else. All this while, he’s been so fixated on how hurtful it is to have Kibum shy away from his attempts at skinship that he’s completely overlooked how painful it must have been for Kibum to have to deal with being ually harassed by his own friend.

Any other person would have left him to rot, but Kibum hadn’t.

Jonghyun thinks, maybe, it's about time he stopped being selfish and be the friend Kibum deserves.

“Kibum-ah,” he says, gently shaking Kibum’s shoulder. “Kibum-ah, wake up.”

The younger wakes with a jolt, but manages to rasp “I am awake, idiot.”

“It’s almost two and you have to be up at six tomorrow. Come on, you need sleep.”

“We haven’t even finished this movie.”

“The movie can wait.” Jonghyun stands, and pulls Kibum’s arm until he staggers to his feet. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack, you know. Or a . How many hours of sleep have you had since the comeback stage?”

Kibum shrugs. “Enough.”

“Not enough.” He's not stopped to think about this, but Kibum must be dead on his feet. And for what? So that Jonghyun doesn't feel left out of the comeback? So that he doesn't spend the night worrying about his voice?

Jonghyun starts guiding Kibum to his room, and Kibum freezes.

“Jjong-”

“If you go to your room now, you’ll wake Minho.”

“Jjong, I…”

It hurts, of course, to see Kibum so reluctant to share a room with him, when they used to share a bed even as trainees. It hurts more to know that he’s the cause of this.

Jonghyun drags the sleep-addled boy towards his room. “If you’re too stingy to share the bed, don’t worry. I’m nowhere near sleepy, so I’m going to go and watch Hotaru no Haka, which you conveniently forgot was released before Totoro. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

“I hate that movie. The writer is a sadist, who writes that kind of thing about children?”

“You're a great big softie, you know that?” Jonghyun manoeuvres Kibum onto his bed and pulls the duvet over his body. There was a time when he would have undressed Kibum as well, but they're not at a place where he can do that. “Is that too warm? Should I turn the air-cond up?”

“Up?”

“Down.”

“Uh…”

“Make it colder, I mean.”  

“No, it’s fine.”

“Yah, you could have just said that earlier. Why do you torture your hyungs like this?” He ruffles Kibum’s hair, resisting the temptation to kiss him; now is not the right time. “Goodnight, little baby. Don’t work so hard.”

“Jjong.”

“Mmm?”

“Are you okay?”

He smiles at that. “I’m fine. Now sleep.”

~~~

The promotions for Misconceptions of Me end without them winning a single trophy. The album sells better than Dream Girl internationally, but it appears that their Korean fandom didn’t take too kindly to the lack of Jonghyun and dancing. Numerous articles are published dissecting this surprising failure, because they’ve always won at least one award since Love like Oxygen, and most come to the conclusion that SHINee’s close to the end of their lifespan, despite their contracts being nowhere near over.

Strangely enough, Kibum doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would.

It might have something to do with the fact that things have improved between him and Jjong; they play around like they used to when they were trainees, without that weird between them, and in some ways it feels like Jjong is taking back what he said in the hospital about him not being able to be friends with Kibum.

There are still things which they don’t talk about, like Seop or Taemin, and sometimes Jjong looks at him like he’s the most beautiful thing in the universe. They’re not perfect, but they’re working towards it, and Kibum is content with that.

It might also have something to do with Taemin finally agreeing to meet his parents. They’ve picked the first weekend of May, because Taemin remembers that his parents do not like to go on holiday during the peak period that is the last week of April to the first Saturday of May; they’re more likely to catch the Lees at home at that time than any other.

Taemin had grown increasingly nervous as the date drew closer, texting him late into the night asking what he should wear, whether he should bring gifts and which topics of conversation would be appropriate. Kibum had tried to allay these fears as much as possible, but he knew that his reassurances weren’t much use.

He can see it now, in fact, from the way Taemin fidgets in his seat as Kibum styles his hair. Kibum had snuck away from the dorm in the morning with a bagful of equipment, clothes and accessories because Taemin had pleaded with him to make him look respectable for the meeting.   

“If you don’t stop moving around, you’re going to get burned.”

“Sorry.”

Humming, Kibum carries on with his task of straightening Taemin’s long auburn hair. He’s always looked good as a redhead, and although this tone is more brown than red, it still suits him. He’s dressed Taemin in a simple white shirt and black slacks, the former from some of Taemin’s stuff that he’d saved and the latter surreptitiously borrowed from Minho. Upon Taemin’s request, his only accessory is a sparkly black bracelet around his right wrist.

“Do you think my dogs are still alive?”

“You were gone for two years, not two decades. If they weren’t, I don’t know, ten before you left, then I think they’re fine.”

“My uncle had a dog once, and he went to the army, and when he came back the dog bit him because it didn’t recognise him anymore.”

“There, we’re done.” Kibum runs a hand through the longest portion of Taemin’s locks, satisfied with his work. “Do you to tie it up or leave it loose?”

Taemin hands him an elastic band. “Tie.”

~

The drive to Cheondgam is a tense one. Kibum lets Taemin flip between channels until he makes four changes in fifteen seconds, at which point he pulls an unmarked CD from the dashboard and pops it in.

Taemin doesn’t even ask what it is.

“Taemin-ah, you are probably the envy of every Shawol in the world right now.”

“Huh?”

“This CD, the music you’re listening to right now, is our second Japanese album. Top secret stuff. If the management discovers I’ve been playing it outside the studio, I’ll probably be locked in Soo Man’s dungeon.”

That distracts Taemin a little. “How many new songs are on it?”

“Well, there’s Sunny Day Hero, Password, Kiss Yo, which is my favourite, and something else. Oh, Moon River Waltz. And Breaking News, which is hell to dance to.”

“When are you releasing this?”

“About a month? A bit less than that, actually.”

“Really?” Taemin’s eyes are bugged out. “So fast? You just promoted the second chapter of Misconceptions. Aren’t you getting a break?”

“Break? We’re going on our Japan Arena tour.”

“Wow.”

They lapse into silence, but it’s a loud one. Kibum can practically hear the thoughts jostling for space in Taemin’s head, most of them bad, and puts extra effort into keeping his body language positive. For all of his bluster, he’s not a hundred percent certain that Taemin’s parents will take him back, but he can’t let his doubts show and he can’t do anything that will scare Taemin back into hiding. He’s trying to get Taemin to re-establish his connections, because he’s read that people are less likely to run away if they form attachments. His heart is doing that little butterfly beat that it does just before a comeback; that thing it does when he can’t quite bring himself to believe that they’ll have a successful comeback even though it’s practically guaranteed at this point. 

“What if I’ve done bad things?”

Kibum’s heart stops. He knows what Taemin is asking, and he doesn’t know what to say. Taemin still hasn’t told him how he survived those two years, and he knows that he will find all manner of skeletons if he goes rummaging through the closet of Taemin’s past.

“What things?”

“Killed people.”

“Have you killed people?”

“No, but…what if?”

“Did you…did you sell yourself?”

“No. I did some exotic dancing for a while, but that was as close as it got.”

“Exotic dancing, like stripping?”

Temin blinks. “No, like…not pop dances? Tribal stuff, I think? But not exactly.”

He has no idea what Taemin means, but he gets what he’s trying to say; no stripping was involved. “Did you steal stuff?”

“Here and there. Just little things. Food.”

“Isn’t there a passage in the bible that says stealing food isn’t a crime, or something? I meant, did you help in a bank heist?” He knows this is an absurd scenario; any group that allows Taemin to assist with a bank heist deserves their inevitable capture.

“No.”

“Snatch food from the hands of a dying orphan?”

“Uh, no.”

“Did you anybody?”

“NO! Hyung!”

“Then you haven’t done anything which would make your parents reject you. I’m not saying they won’t be angry. I think they will be, and you have to be prepared to hear some nasty things, but they won’t hate you.”

There isn’t much time for Taemin to contradict or agree with him, because an all-too-familiar driveway comes into view. He hears a sharp intake of breath beside him, and turns to the side to see Taemin hunch low in his seat. He’s a little pale, too. Kibum reaches out and takes Taemin’s hand, which results in the car being parked a little haphazardly.

“Take your time,” he says. “I can wait. And breathe. You don’t want to walk up to the door and pass out.”

“Do you have water?”

“Hang on.” Not many people know this, but Kibum did join the scouts for a year when he was still in primary school; if nothing else, he learnt to be prepared for everything. There is a small bottle of water in the dashboard, and he hands that to Taemin.

The younger takes the tiniest of sips, and sits there holding the bottle.

“Okay, when I said to take your time, I lied. I haven’t got all day, so get your arse out of the car and-”

“You go first,” Taemin says, cutting him off. “Just, go and see if they’re home.”

There is absolutely no need to, since there are two cars in the driveway, but Kibum agrees. He steps out of the car and starts walking, and hears the sound of Taemin opening and closing his door behind him. Time seems to slow down, to the extent that he’s aware of every beat of his heart and the sweat beading on his skin, and he wonders how Taemin’s dealing with all this.

There is no doorbell. Kibum knocks on the door. The first knock barely rattles the door and produces a sound he can barely hear, so he puts more strength into the next.

“An…Annyeong,” he calls out, cringing at the way his voice falters. How is he supposed to give confidence to Taemin when he’s quaking in his boots at the mere act of knocking on a door? There is no response, so he raps the door hard and says, louder, “Annyeong!”

Footsteps approach the door, and it’s suddenly being opened. Taemin’s mother stands there, dressed in a neat, collared blouse and a beautiful, billowing skirt. “Annyeong,” she says, still standing inside the house.

When she realises who is standing on her doorstep, her eyes widen in surprise. It has been almost a year since he last called her, and far longer since they’ve met in person.

“Kibum-ah?” she asks, concern in her voice. A kind hand comes up to grip his shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

“Neh, eomo-nim. I…” the words get stuck in his throat, and Kibum scolds himself. He’s here to be strong for Taemin, not to cower in front of one of the people he trusts most like a thief confessing his guilt. “I just have someone you should meet.”

Her eyes are confused now, but she looks out. Kibum steps aside to reveal Taemin, who has been hiding behind him.

He misses her reaction because he’s busy watching Taemin; his eyes widen, just like hers did, but they light up with such joy that Kibum realises he’s never seen Taemin this happy since the younger returned.

“I, what is this…” her voice trembles, and when Kibum turns around, she looks like she’s about to faint. “Omo…”

“Umma!” Taemin brushes past him, catching his mother’s elbow.

“It’s me,” he says. “Umma, I-”

“Kyungsoon?” A man’s voice echoes down the hall; Taemin’s father. “Is that the technician? I thought I made the appointment in the evening.”

At the sound of his father’s voice, Taemin lets go of his mother’s elbow and takes a step back. The man himself comes to the door a couple of moments later, rifling through some letters. “Here, I clearly said four-”

Whatever it is he was planning to say is lost when he looks up and sees Taemin.

“Abuji,” he says, bowing slightly.

Unlike his mother, Taemin’s father is not at all speechless. “What are you doing here?” he demands, shoulders stiffening.

“I…I wanted to see, I mean-”

“You’re not welcome here,” the man says. “Please leave.”

Kibum expected either one of them to react like this, but it is still uncomfortable to watch. He does not interfere; this is Taemin’s family and he has to handle this by himself. There has to be a confrontation before things can begin to heal. The fact that the Lees haven’t tried to shut the door, despite the father’s harsh words, is evidence enough of the affection they must still have for their son.

“Please, wait,” Taemin pleads. “I…I have a job now, and I’m renting an apartment in Gangwon. Key-hyung knows, he can tell you. I can be a good son, appa, I’m sorry for-”

Kibum nods vigorously, as if it has any bearing. “He didn’t want to come earlier, until he got his life back in order, and he’s done it without help from anyone.”

They ignore him.

“What do you want from us?” Kyungsoon asks, her voice still weak. “Why are you here?”

“I just…umma, I missed you so much.”

Taemin reaches out to grasp his mother’s hand, and she caresses the knuckles of his hand where it is closed over hers. Kibum’s vision mists slightly, and a lump forms in his throat that he can’t swallow.

“I thought we made it very clear that you’re not a part of this family anymore. Did you think we would have changed our minds?”

“Appa-”

“I’m not your appa.”

“Appa, I’ve changed, please,” Taemin pleads, desperation clear in his tone. He turns to his mother again, clinging to her hand as if it is a lifebuoy. “Umma, didn’t you wonder where I went? Didn’t you miss me?”

“Don’t do this,” Kyungsoon says, struggling to remove her hand from Taemin’s grasp.

“No, we didn’t wonder anything. For once, I thought you finally took responsibility for your actions, but clearly I was wrong.” His father steps between Kyungsoon and Taemin. “You’ve never been able to take responsibility for a single thing in your life. We looked away from so much; the drinking, the casual sleeping around, but it was never enough for you. You just had to go and do something we could never forgive.”

Hearing his father’s words, Kibum slowly realises that Taemin’s parents aren’t referring to his running away; they’re talking about something else entirely. It surprises him, because Taemin never said anything about having disagreements with his family before he left.

“Excuse me, ahjusshi,” he says, trying to get the conversation back on track “but Taemin-ah is very responsible now. I’ve kept an eye on him for a long time, and he’s more of an adult than any of-”

“Kibum-ssi, please stay out of this.”

“I’m sorry, but he’s not looking for your approval or to be allowed back into the house that he bought for you,” Kibum says, ignoring the way Taemin is shaking his head at him “he just wants you to acknowledge him as your son again. I know you’re angry with him, but surely it’s better to know that your son is alive and well than to imagine that he might have been kidnapped and sold as a…a slave or something in some remote corner of the world.”

“He’s not our son,” Taemin’s father says again. “We cannot acknowledge him that way, and it’s all his fault. He brought shame to our family.”

Kibum wants to ask how – although he supposes that the Lees must have had a hard time after Taemin ran away, what with all of the questions from their relatives and friends; SHINee were shielded from the worst of it by their agency, but who was there to do that for Taemin’s family – but Taemin cuts in before he can speak again.

“I can change, appa,” Taemin says.

“Really? So in the time that you’ve been away, you haven’t slept with any boys?” The last part of the sentence is spat out quickly, as if Taemin’s father cannot even stomach the thought long enough to ask a question about it.

Kibum is shocked. Taemin has been happily biual for as long as he can remember, and he’s always assumed that the Lees were fine with it. They are religious, but Kibum has always been openly gay and they’ve never been anything but warm and hospitable to him.

And slowly, it comes together in a way that makes Kibum sick. When Taemin’s father had said that he was no longer a part of the family, when he spoke about mistakes that couldn’t be forgiven, he wasn’t talking about Taemin running away.

“I…” Taemin looks like he’s on the verge of panic, and his lips are wobbling.

“See? You won’t change. I will not tolerate this sort of depravity from my own family. How do you expect us to face society knowing that our son is sick, and that we’ve done nothing to cure him?”

There is a part of Kibum that is screaming at him to step in and stop this; he’s not the sort for heroics, but he’s always believed that he will not stand aside and allow someone to be abused because of their uality. Now that it is actually happening, though, he can’t bring himself to move. Despite living in what he knows is a society that disapproves of homouality, Kibum has never been exposed to true, virulent homophobia like this. He finds himself paralysed.

“I will change, I promise. Please, ju-” Taemin breaks into sobs in the middle of his sentence, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and smudging the foundation Kibum had so carefully applied to cover his acne scars. Kyungsoon bites back a sob, but she stays behind her husband and does nothing to acknowledge Taemin.

“You’re making a scene,” Taemin’s father says, one hand on the door. “And you’ve upset your mother. Please leave.”

When he moves to close the door, Taemin falls to his knees on the threshold and grabs the hem of his mother’s skirt. “Umma,” he cries, sobbing loudly, and Kibum is thrown back to the night of his birthday when Taemin had curled into his side and wept for his mother. “Umma, umma…”

Something snaps inside Kibum. The sight of Taemin crying his heart out, kneeling at the feet of his undifferent parents, and the sheer unfairness of it makes his skin prickle with a rage he never thought himself capable of. One stride forward, and he’s got Taemin’s upper arm gripped in one hand, and it takes no strength at all to haul the unresisting boy to his feet.

Kibum doesn’t see how Taemin’s parents react. He barely even sees the driveway or the green grass of the garden on either side of it as he walks away from the house; all he sees is his car. With one hand, he fishes the keys from his pocket, unlocks the car, opens the passenger side door and all but throws Taemin inside.

Tears fall from his eyes onto the asphalt as he walks to the driver’s side, and Kibum angrily wipes them away. His hand shakes when he sticks the key into the ignition. He doesn’t bother pulling his safety belt on before reversing out of the driveway. The speed and carelessness with which he pulls out makes the tires squeal, and he stomps on the accelerator, needing to leave the neighbourhood behind as fast as he can.

It takes a few moments, and a few sharp corners, before Kibum calms down enough to be able to think. The first thing he really sees is his hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, so much so that his knuckles are white, in order to stop them from shaking. At the sound of a sniffle, he turns to see Taemin curled in his seat, muffling his sobs with a hand over his mouth; a picture of abject misery.

Kibum wants to say something, but he doesn’t even know where to begin.

Taemin draws in a deep, shuddering breath, and says “Let me out.”

“I’m not even sure where we are,” Kibum says, looking out. They’re still some ways from either the dorm or Taemin’s apartment, and it’s a part of the city new to Kibum. He wasn’t exactly paying attention to where he was driving earlier on. “But Taemin-ah-”

He’s cut off when Taemin opens the door, even as the car is moving.

“YAH!” Kibum stomps on the brakes, the tires protest for the umpteenth time that day, and Taemin stumbles slightly as he steps out of the car. He lands on one knee, which has to hurt - Kibum thanks his reflexes because he would have run the younger over if he hadn’t stopped – but he takes off at a run. “Yah, wait!”

But Taemin is already gone. 

XXXXX

Hello, everyone :)

Thank you to my subbies, first of all. I'm sorry I don't thank each of you in person, and I'll try not to be so lazy in the future :(

Anyway, here's another update that took a month to write. I'm not going to apologise because this is like 13k words long. Also, as promised, more Taekey. Also, now you know a bit more of TaeTae's sad little story. To all of you rare Keyseop shippers, not to worry, I haven't forgotten about the existence of Kibum's actual bf. 

Well, that's about it. Please review? Comment? Anything?