Chapter 16: When He Held Me in His Arms, My Feet Never Touched the Ground

The ringing of his alarm drags Jonghyun from an uneasy sleep. He turns it off and checks the time; it’s 6am, and the summer sun is already shining through his windows. Jin had said yesterday that they were meeting with the choreographers today, probably to figure out how to work Taemin into their more recent dances, and Jonghyun figures that today is not a day to skip breakfast.

Kibum is in the kitchen when he gets there, making himself a simple breakfast of cereal and milk. He doesn’t bother to offer the box to Jonghyun, since all of the members have known for a long time that he doesn’t eat breakfast cereal. Instead, he opens the cupboard above the sink and takes out the protein shake he keeps for particularly challenging days.

They don’t bother to say anything to each other, despite sharing the same space. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but it’s not a good one either, and Jonghyun is relieved when Kibum breaks it.

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to do for your solo stage at the anniversary show?”

It’s an issue to which he has given some thought. “I’m not sure whether I want to sing something I’ve done before or try something new.”

“You’re not singing one of your own songs?” Kibum sounds surprised. “You’ve been writing a lot lately, I would have thought you’d sing one of those.”

“I haven’t written anything good enough to be recorded.”

“It doesn’t need to be. Do an acoustic number, isn’t that what you prefer anyway? And it’s more of a fanmeet than a concert, so I’m pretty sure you can read the Chosongul to them and they’ll still clap and scream and say you’re the best singer ever.”

Jonghyun nods in agreement, and considers his broadened options. He always takes whatever opportunity he can to showcase his talents as a composer, and this is a relatively low-pressure chance to do just that. “That’s something to think about.”

Kibum sighs. “I haven’t the faintest idea what to do.”

As a vocalist, Kibum’s range is quite limited. He’s not suited to ballads because of this, and the old couple song thing that he’d sung earlier in the year had suited him precisely because it didn’t have any soaring notes. “Maybe you could do that Lady Gaga song that you did for SWCII?”

“Too repetitive. And too theatric – I don’t think the venue has the capability to do wiring I’ll need for that song.” He tips the bowl to his mouth, catching the last of the milk and cereal. It’s a long-time habit of his, not wanting to waste food. Jonghyun admires how that attitude hasn’t changed, but it’s not a principle to which he can stick because there simply isn’t any point in shovelling food into one’s self just because the food is there on the plate.

Placing the bowl in the sink, Kibum leaves the kitchen, clapping him on the shoulder as he does so. “Jin said he’ll be here in half an hour. Best get ready.”

Jonghyun slowly drinks the remainder of his protein shake, wondering what just happened. Did he just have an entire conversation with Kibum where they both just ignored the fact that they are about to take the biggest risk of their career simply because of Kibum’s attachment to Taemin, or does Kibum genuinely think that Jonghyun didn’t mind Taemin coming back?

~~~

Of course he’s spent the entire morning wondering what the stylists are doing to Taemin. They change their looks for every comeback, and sometimes even in between, and he doesn’t doubt that the stylists will not want to keep the long, auburn mess that Taemin has now, no matter how much Kibum himself likes it. It’s unlikely that they’d make him blonde, what with him and Jjong both being some shade of blonde at the moment. Maybe red? Or something a bit more exotic, like the rainbow shade Sehun had been sporting for Wolf?

~

Apparently Ring Ding Dong isn’t dark or badass enough for SM, because they find themselves upping the ante for Lucifer. Kibum doesn’t mind badass, even though his heart laments the loss of flowery prints, but he doesn’t like absurdity. There are many absurdities in this concept, starting with the inanity of the lyrics all the way to the hairstyle the stylists are suggesting to him.

“One side bleached and the other black? And what, I’ll part my hair in half?”

“Ideally, we’d be mohawking it before every show,” the noona responds, brandishing the container of bleach.

“It’s so stupid,” Kibum grumbles. “I’ll look ridiculous. And it will make my face look asymmetrical.”

“I could do the dye in four sections,” she suggests, running her comb through his hair, parting it into four sections. “Like this, harlequin.”

“I’d rather shave my head,” he snipes, annoyed. Why is it always him that gets stuck with the worst hairstyles?

A glint comes into her eye, and her lips curve upward in the way that it does when she’s thinking of naughty things. Kibum likes that glint. “Noona, what are you thinking?”

She tells him her idea, and he loves it. It’s something he’s never known he’s wanted, but now that he’s heard of it, he can’t imagine sporting any other hairstyle. “Yes, let’s do that.”

~

When he leaves his stylist and goes back to the practice room, Jonghyun and Jinki are there. He notes, with slight disappointment, that neither have done anything particularly revolutionary with their hair. Jinki’s is longer than he’s ever had it, and all they’ve done is straightened it. Jjong has been allowed to keep his hair black, and they’ve done a half cornrow, half spike thing which makes him look even more like a dinosaur than usual. Still, it highlights the sharpness of his jaw and cheeks, which in turn contrast with the fullness of his lower lip, and Kibum feels the stirrings of arousal.

Their reactions to him, though, are funny. Their jaws drop, and Jonghyun takes a few strides forward before seemingly catching himself. He manages to find his voice first. “Are you sure that’s okay?”

Kibum shrugs. “Fits the concept. And it’s too late to do anything about it now.”

“It’s oddly y,” Jinki says. It’s a huge compliment, coming from him.

“Of course it’s y.” Jjong steps closer, close enough to whisper in his ear. “It’s really, really y.”

Kibum laughs and loops an arm around Jjong’s shoulders, pulling him closer still, and Jonghyun takes the opportunity to run his fingers through the unshaven side of his head. Jinki blushes and looks away. Kibum is pretty sure Minho and Jinki know that they’ve been sleeping together, but the issue has never come up in conversation.

“Where’s Minho?” he asks then. He’d been rather jealous of Minho’s long Ring Ding Dong hairstyle, and he wonders what the stylists could be doing to it. The Dumb-and-Dumber duo just shrug, and Jjong continues petting his hair.

That’s when door slides open, and Taemin walks in.

Kibum forgets to breathe.

Taemin’s not fourteen anymore, he knows that as well as anyone. The maknae has been staying out overnight for a long time already, coming back with little bruises around his collarbones, and having received a box of condoms from him, Kibum knows that he’s not the innocent little boy the fans like to think he is. However, it’s never sunk in before now that Taemin’s almost a man.

They’ve given him shoulder-length extensions, straightened his usually wavy hair and dyed it copper, the combination of which makes Kibum suddenly aware of how very y Taemin is. When exactly did his body become so long and lithe? When had he gained that glint of mischief in his eyes that promises he’s anything but al, despite still being a minor? His lips have always been full and pouty, but why hadn’t Kibum noticed them until now? Feeling somewhat uncomfortable, he turns to Jjong, only to see his boyfriend staring at Taemin like a starving wolf.

The boy himself looks awkward, until his eyes land on Kibum. “Key-hyung! You…wow.”

He rushes over, knocking over their water bottles and spilling water across the floor, and the spell is broken. Taemin’s just Taemin again, his careless-but-nevertheless-cute dongsaeng. “Oh, sorry,” he says, to no one in particular. “Key-hyung, your style is so…”

“So?” Kibum prompts.

“So jjang,” Taemin breathes, almost reverently. “So Lucifer.”

“I’m so jealous,” Jjong says then. “You two get such awesome hairstyles, and look what I’m stuck with.”

“I think it’s y,” Kibum reassures him, at the same time Taemin exclaims loudly “Awesome? I look like a girl!”

Kibum laughs, but Taemin’s inability to see how beautiful he is makes him sad. “No, you look more grown-up than you ever have. I never thought you could be more good-looking than me.”

“I’m not,” Taemin mutters, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

~

There aren’t many people outside the SM building today; just a bunch of girls he recognises as EXO’s sasaengs, and three others who look Japanese. None of them take any notice of the SHINee members.

They troop obediently into the practice room and begin warming up. A knock on the door catches their attention, and Kibum looks up to see Tony Testa walk in.

“Hey guys,” he says in English, moving out of the doorway to allow the SM interpreter in.

“Yo,” Jjong replies.

“So I heard about the thing with Taemin,” he continues, pronouncing Taemin as Te-min. “I’m here to work Sherlock and Dream Girl into a five-man number, but I’ll try to maintain as many moves as possible, so that you can pick it up in time for the 25th.”

Kibum understands everything he says, but he waits for the interpreter to finish translating the short speech before nodding.

“Okay, so let’s start,” Tony exclaims, rubbing his hands together. “Wait, where’s person number five?”

“I think he’s still getting his hair done,” Kibum answers. “He’s been here since six, so he should be done by now.”

“No worries. Give me a moment and I’ll get warmed up too.”

Tony is in the middle of warming up when the door slides open. For a moment, Kibum wonders, shocked, why Jaejoong has come back to SM. Then he recognises the person walking into the room as Taemin, and it’s no less shocking.

His long hair has been shorn; cut short and dyed black. It takes the colour out of his skin and draws attention to the sharpness of his jaw. He looks twenty, and Kibum suddenly realises that Taemin is now older than even Jinki was when SHINee debuted.

He walks in with his head bowed, as if still trying to hide his face behind his non-existent locks, and makes his way over to Kibum.

“You look good,” Kibum says, and Taemin’s lips curve upwards in shy smile. Minho rolls his eyes in the corner, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed by Taemin, and that smile falters for a moment before disappearing altogether.

“Hi Te-min,” Tony says, sticking his hand out. Taemin takes it. “I’m Tony. If you could show me what you know of Sherlock, I can get started on rearranging the choreo.”

What happens next makes Kibum’s heart swell with pride. Taemin dances for Tony, and he does it so well that even Tony stops dancing with him and watches with awe in his eyes. His moves aren’t perfect, but they’re done so well that it’s difficult to believe that he learnt this without professional guidance. How many hours did you spend practicing this, Kibum wonders, and why?

They spend the rest of the day re-learning the moves, trying to turn the four-man choreography into a five-man one. It’s a little difficult at first, but once the moves are mapped out, things just fall into place. Taemin takes centre-stage for the closing moves, which used to belong to him, but Kibum can’t begrudge him that; not when his movements become sharper and sharper with each practice and his eyes regain the ecstasy they used to hold whenever he was performing.

When they’re done, Taemin leaves first; he won’t be riding in the SHINee van until after the anniversary fanmeet. Once he leaves, the tightness in the atmosphere between the rest of the members eases, as if they’ve all been holding their breaths this whole time. Kibum wants to shake them, to remind them that this is their Taemin and that there’s no need to be awkward around him, but he knows it’s too soon.

“It wasn’t a disaster,” Jinki says as they’re packing.

“It was never the dancing we had to worry about,” Jjong argues. “It’s the fan reaction. And him.”

Minho doesn’t add anything to the conversation. Kibum doesn’t know how to deal with his anger, other than to leave him be. Still, the silence between them makes him uncomfortable, because it reminds him of the time after debut that they spent ignoring each other’s presence.

~

Taemin is already asleep by the time they get back to the dorm. It’s past midnight, and the journey back had taken more time than usual because they’d taken a detour to drop Jjong off at his house.

Nobody is hungry for food, only sleep, so Kibum makes himself tea with milk and drinks it as quickly as he can. There are so many things he needs to do before bed; feed and walk Comme des and Garcons, remove his make-up and pick his outfit for tomorrow. Just because there were no SHINee fans outside the building today doesn’t mean that there won’t be tomorrow.

The clock on his handphone shows that it’s one by the time he collapses gratefully into bed, worn out. They’ve been running at this pace since the beginning of the year, and it’s starting to tire him out.

Are you awake?

The phone beeps almost immediately and Kibum quickly puts it in silent mode, but it doesn’t appear to have disturbed Taemin at all.

Yes

I’m so tired.

:( my poor yeobo.

That makes him smile. It is late and he should be going to sleep, and it might be lateness and tiredness, but he suddenly feels a bit sorry for Seop having to date an idol like him; never available save for a late night text or two.

Taemin’s back. SM let him back into the band

Seop does not reply for an uncharacteristically long time. When he does, his reply is confusing.

Who’s happier; him or you?

Looking across the room, at Taemin’s blanketed back, Kibum realises that he doesn’t know the answer.

We both are.

They’ll be off to Japan the day after, to record yet more promotional material in preparation for their Japan Arena Tour, and Taemin will continue working on his dance and vocal training alone. Hopefully, when they get back, things won’t be so awkward.

~~~

Jin is nervous. Actually nervous. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this unsure of himself; perhaps when it was when he asked his girlfriend out for the first time, almost six years ago.

The other members are in Japan, and he’s in charge of sneaking Taemin into SM so that he can practice his dancing and vocals. It will be the first time he’s been alone with Taemin since he’s come back.

When he knocks on the door, it’s opened almost immediately. As instructed, Taemin is wearing an oversized hoodie and sunglasses, so that his face is almost completely obscured. Employees of SM had been made to sign confidentiality agreements, and a meeting had been held the night after his return to warn the employees of the severity of the punishment awaiting them should news of Taemin’s return somehow leak.

They’re on the way to SM when it becomes clear that Taemin isn’t going to initiate a conversation with him, so Jin starts one. “How are you keeping up with the practice?”

He looks surprised to be addressed. “Uh…it’s fine, hyung-nim.”

“That’s good.” The conversation peters out before it can begin, so Jin tries again. “How are you getting along with the other members? Apart from Key.”

Taemin takes time to think about the question. “We haven’t spoken much.”

Jin knows the boys well enough to understand that this means that the rest of the members have been ignoring his existence. It’s not as bad as being angry with him, but they need to find a way to get over this before the fanmeet. It’s less than two weeks away; two weeks which already packed with schedules, so there isn’t even time to ship them all off to a short holiday somewhere to bond.

“Try talking to them a bit more. Greet them in the mornings, ask them how they slept. Offer to help them with their bags. Help with the household chores. If you want to rebuild your relationship with them, you have to make an effort.”

“Neh, hyung-nim.”

That’s the other thing that has been troubling Jin about Taemin. It’s the almost subservient tone to his voice that never used to be there, as if he’s so detached from his surroundings and so unsure of the reactions of the people around him that he can only utter the most bland and inoffensive phrases, and that too only in response to questions first asked of him.

That Key managed to get through to him looks more and more like a miracle.

~~~

When the door to the dorm opens, Kibum almost cries with relief. Japan this time was almost traumatic, because of the protracted photoshoot they had to do for Seek Magazine. So many pictures, so many locations, so many outfit changes; it was tiring, but not in the satisfying way concerts are tiring.

It was alright in the morning, when the four members had split up and the camera crew followed him and Jonghyun around as they pretended to shop in their sponsors’ stores. Some of them were actually interesting, and he’d ended up scoring a free item or two. They’d wrapped up the day by filming in some sort of arcade/theme park, which was crowded with fans and onlookers. They’d caught perhaps three hours of sleep before it was time to do two interviews, just before the flight home. They’d spent the day before that filming interviews and doing some last minute recording for their Japanese songs; the latter of which was frustrating because all of them knew that the recording would have to be done again if Taemin could successfully reintegrate into the band.

The last leg of their journey, the trip through the airport, was the worst. There were more people around than usual, since BTOB were also on the same flight, and it was a nightmare to have to push through the mass of screaming, sweaty bodies just to get to the car. All of the members were bumped and bruised, and someone had scratched the back of his neck while trying to catch his hair.

The dorm is a refuge; silent and familiar. Jjong had insisted on going home, so it was only him, Jinki and Minho.

It is past midnight, so Taemin should be at home, but he doesn’t come to the door. Kibum doesn’t think much of it, guessing that he’s probably asleep. It can’t be easy, having to transition back into dancing and singing all day long after lazing away reading comic books all day long. When he opens the door to their shared room, though, it is empty. His bed is neat, untouched, and Taemin’s is a mess, but the room has an undisturbed air to it.

His heart immediately constricts, and he has to remind himself that Taemin has nothing to run away from now, no reason to leave.

Long after Jinki stops puttering about in the living room, long after Minho’s snoring evens out, and long after Kibum gives up on getting any sleep, the front door creaks open. There are shuffles and thumps right in front of his door, the telltale sounds of a person taking their shoes off. Finally, the door opens, and Taemin ghosts into the room. He must have seen their shoes, then, and realised that they were back.

Without turning the lights on, Taemin walks towards his bed. Kibum forgets about the bag he dumped in the middle of the floor until Taemin trips on it, falling over and landing by the side of his bed with enough noise to wake even the most drugged-up idol.

“Taemin?”

“It’s just me, hyung,” Taemin says, sounding a bit disgruntled.

Kibum reaches over and turns on the lamp on the nightstand, casting a pale yellow glow over the room.

He’s glad that he did.

Taemin looks worse than he did when first came back. It’s barely been three days, but he’s managed to lose even more of what little weight he has, and there are deep, dark hollows around his eyes. More worryingly, there is a slight tremor in his limbs and a dazed look in his eyes. Kibum recognises this look, and he hates seeing it on Taemin’s face.

~

Their instructor’s comment about Kibum being the better dancer stays with him all day. He finds himself smiling at the oddest moments, when her one line of praise replays in his head. A small part of Kibum reminds him that the reason he’s cheering so much over the comment is that Taemin is the better dancer between them, but he silences it in order to enjoy his temporary victory.

When he steps out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth and applying a facemask, Taemin is lying in wait.

“Key-hyung,” he begins, although Kibum hasn’t given him permission to call him that at all “can you show me how you put so much personality in your dance?”

It’s impressive, almost, the way Taemin is so blithe about things like this. Kibum would have thought a hundred times before asking a sunbae to help him with his dancing. Then again, he thinks bitterly, Taemin is his sunbae, having joined SM a year before him. It’s a pity that he hasn’t learnt anything about the politics of the idol industry in those years.

“To showcase personality, you must have personality. You must be able to project the illusion that you’ve got something more than everyone else out there, something that makes them want to get to know you.”

Taemin nods eagerly.

“Some people are naturally interesting, because they’re talented, because they’re different or simply because they’re naturally charismatic. You, on the other hand, are as interesting as wallpaper, and there is nothing anyone can do to help you with that.”

He feels a bit mean when Taemin’s smile slips away and is replaced with hurt, and he shoulders the younger out of the way. He’s confident in the assumption that Taemin will get over the disappointment quickly enough.

When he wakes the next morning, first as usual, Taemin is sleeping in the living room. Who knew that the maknae could throw a tantrum, he thinks to himself.

As the day progressed, though, Kibum slowly realises that it isn’t just a tantrum. There is a slump to Taemin’s shoulders and his smile, on the rare occasion it comes out, is forced.

“How long is he going to sulk?” Kibum complains to Jonghyun during a break.

“Who’s sulking?” Jonghyun asks, and Kibum shakes his head. Does the rest of the group really not notice that Taemin isn’t himself? Weren’t the hyungs supposed to take care of the maknae?   

That night, he hears Taemin sneaking out of bed. Reminding himself that it isn’t any of his business, Kibum rolls over and forces himself to sleep. If Taemin wants to kill himself practicing, it isn’t his fault. If Taemin is so intent on taking that one minute piece of criticism to heart, it isn’t his fault. If Taemin’s hands and legs tremble during practice, if staying up all night practicing has him on the verge of collapse, it isn’t Kibum’s fault.

 When Taemin leaves the room on the third night, Kibum growls in frustration. He cannot understand why that one comment has managed to induce so much self-doubt in Taemin. How is he going to survive the idol industry if his confidence is so easily shattered? He tries to go back to sleep, but sleep doesn’t come. His conscience taunts him, reminding him that he’s somehow managed to destroy a little kid’s self-esteem; he remembers the way his own peers used to taunt him, and wonders whether he’s any better than them simply because he hadn’t relied on homophobic taunts to make Taemin feel unworthy. Annoyed at his own weakness, Kibum throws his blanket off and goes in search of the maknae.

Taemin is in the living room with his Ipod plugged into his ears, practicing the moves to Do It Well. Kibum isn’t sure what he’s trying to achieve, since he’s already got the movements down correctly. If there is one improvement Kibum would suggest, it would be to add power to those moves; then again, power comes from strength, and Taemin’s moves have always tended towards fluidity.

“You’re not going to add personality to your moves by practicing it over and over again,” he finally says.

Taemin stops dancing to glare at him. “I thought wallpapers don’t have personality.”

“I make fun of everyone, get over it. Do you want my help or not?”

In the end, Taemin concedes, and Kibum teaches him a little of what he knows. It’s not easy to connect with an audience, especially if you’re as airheaded as Taemin, but hopefully the runt has at least learnt to make eye contact with the camera. He makes them a snack, reasoning that the no-food-after-7pm rule doesn’t apply since it’s past midnight, tells Taemin a funny story or two while they eat, and lets Taemin fall asleep on his shoulder.

He’s just managed to manoeuvre him into a horizontal position when Taemin wakes up. “Key-hyung?”

There is something in the way Taemin calls for him, perhaps vulnerability, perhaps affection, that manages to seep through the cracks of Kibum’s fortified heart.

“Yah, it’s just me,” he says, because he doesn’t understand why Taemin is saying his name like he has the answers to all of life’s questions. He’s never had a dongsaeng before; these feelings of protectiveness and adoration that surge through his veins are new to him. “Go to sleep.”

~

That look means that Taemin isn’t confident in his dancing, that he’s been staying up at night practicing. He’s probably spent the entire day at SM, and Kibum isn’t sure whether he’s had a proper meal in his absence. If they were younger, he would have scolded Taemin and dragged him into the kitchen for a hastily prepared meal, but things have changed since then. 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” Kibum says.

“Is it your insomnia again?” Taemin looks worried, as if he’s in any condition to be worrying about anything other than himself.

In response, Kibum shifts in his bed and pats the empty space he’s made. There isn’t much that he can do about Taemin’s lack of care for himself, but he can give him a little security. The thought crosses Kibum’s mind that this is an odd way to deal with an overworked bandmate, but he dismisses it. He knows from experience how effective a remedy cuddling is.

~

The mattress is lumpy and hard, and Kibum doesn’t even want to think of the hundreds of trainees who must have slept, sweated, drooled or peed on the damn thing in its overly long life. It was too bad, really, that SM didn’t care one whit about the comfort of their trainees; Kibum is willing to bet all of his future income on the fact that they’d happily let the trainees sleep on the streets if not for the possibility of lawsuit from angry parents.

However, the situation is not without it’s benefits; friendships are formed in the wee hours of the morning in this makeshift dorm, over illicit cups of sugared coffee and games of truth or dare. He’d made fast friendships in this time, and learnt more than he’d ever expected to about Jonghyun. Jonghyun didn’t have to stay in the trainee dorms overnight, but every now and again he would. Kibum sometimes wondered whether it was because he was there, but he knows that the truth is that Jonghyun is as much of a social butterfly as him, and that the elder would stay over even Kibum was never a trainee.

Tonight, they’d shared horror stories until the younger trainees had started to demand to sleep with the lights on, leading Lee Young Chae, the most senior trainee, to declare that it was time to sleep. Tonight, as befits the eerie air cast by their half-true stories earlier on, winter rain patters against the windows and makes the trainees shiver under their thin blankets. Tonight, Kibum misses his own warm bed, which had never been slept in by people other than him, and the warmth of his home.

He is curling into a ball, trying to get the meagre blanket to cover both his feet and his shoulders, when someone slides under it next to him. Kibum freezes, and the person whispers “It’s just me.”

Jonghyun.

“What are you doing?” Kibum asks, because as much as he likes his hyung, and possibly nurses a tiny crush on him, this is too much, too soon.

An arm snakes around his waist – a very warm arm, Kibum notes – and Jonghyun huffs a breath against his neck. “Keeping warm. What, you’ve never shared a bed before?”

Kibum wonders whether Jonghyun is implying anything about his life, or whether it’s just an innocent comment. It’s difficult to tell with the trainee vocalist. “Uhh, no?”

“Such a spoilt child,” Jonghyun says, wrapping his arms and legs around Kibum and taking no notice of the latter’s discomfort. “Noona and I used to share a bed until she finished kindergarten. One day, she kicked me so hard I fell off the bed and cut my elbow…hey, do you want to see the scar?”

“No,” Kibum says quickly, because he can already feel Jonghyun start to shift and because he wants to ignore the tiny bud of disappointment in the pit of his stomach at the realisation that this is just friendly skinship to Jonghyun. “No, go to sleep.”

“Neh,” Jonghyun says, abandoning his scar story and curling up against Kibum once more. “Why are you so cold?”

“Not all of us have high metabolic rates,” Kibum says, somewhat bitterly.

Jonghyun just hums in response and steals a little more of Kibum’s blanket. “This is why it’s better to share. It’ll be warmer soon.”

The combination of the rhythm of rain against the roof and the warmth of Jonghyun’s body lulls Kibum into a comfortable daze. It’s nice, to feel the elder breathing against him; it makes him feel a little less small, the world a little less harsh, because it’s difficult to feel lonely when someone’s cradling you in their arms.

~

It’s impossible to miss the glee on Taemin’s face as he all but leaps into the space Kibum has cleared for him. He throws an arm and a leg over Kibum, as if the elder is his bolster, and nuzzles his shoulder; Kibum tolerates the affection, despite feeling a little cramped and warm.

He’s almost asleep when Taemin speaks. “It was so quiet without you guys.”

“We’re back now,” Kibum mutters, freeing a hand and patting Taemin’s head absently. “It’s only a couple of weeks to the anniversary, and then you’ll be getting mobbed in airports at godforsaken hours of the day.”

“If it works out.”

“Of course it’ll work out. Now shut up,” Kibum rolls Taemin off his body and traps him in his arms, trying not to focus on how he can feel his ribs through his t-shirt or how his skin is clammy “and go the to sleep.”

“I read a book in London,” Taemin continues, apparently still intent on chatting even though he can’t face Kibum. “With that exact phrase. I heard a lady reading it to her baby, and I went and bought it.”

“It’s a children’s book.” Kibum knows the book he’s talking about, having read about it in some magazine or another.

“I think I still have it around somewhere. Oh, did you see the thing on youtube with Morgan Freeman?”

Kibum smiles into Taemin’s hair. “I’ve had a very long day, so if you don’t shut up, I will actually kill you. And it was Samuel L Jackson, not Morgan Freeman.” 

“It reminded me of you,” Taemin says.

“Shut up,” Kibum warns a final time, tightening his arms around Taemin. “If I wake up with eye bags tomorrow I will punch you in the face.”

~~~

Jonghyun does not know whether to be happy or angry over the fact that it takes very little time for SHINee to get used to being a five-member unit again. As much as he loves the original choreography for Sherlock, he has to admit that the five person dance works so much better. It’s a good thing because it means that they spend less time practicing together than he expected to – and that means less time spent around the traitor in their midst – but it also makes him angry because he doesn’t want it to be easy to work with Taemin.

It doesn’t help that Taemin looks half-starved whenever he’s not wearing three layers of clothes. He remembers being shocked to see the maknae the morning after they’d come back from Japan, the latter looking more run down than even the most put-upon trainee.

I don’t care, he tells himself, averting his eyes from the pitiful sight. Jonghyun isn’t responsible for whatever self-imposed suffering Taemin is going through. He hates the relief he feels when he sees Kibum up early in the morning, puttering about in the kitchen and making huge breakfasts like he hasn’t done for years now. He hates the fact that he notices Taemin’s cheeks filling out, because he’s not supposed to care enough to notice these things.

~

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Min Kyung asks, her voice dropping low like it always does when she’s serious.

“Yah, noona, what is this?” he asks, genuinely confused. All he’d done was send a text asking whether she and her friends would be free for drinks later in the day, but apparently she’d seen enough in that one text to call him and ask him useless questions.

“This is the second time this week that you’ve asked to come out with me. I’d be flattered, but I’m not your type, am I?”

“Noona, of course you’re my type. “

She laughs. “No, seriously. What’s up?”

“It’s just…dorm life, you know? Five people crammed in one apartment, no personal space at all. That kind of thing.”

“Oh. We’re all working tonight, though. Maybe tomorrow?”

“It’s fine. See you tomorrow, noona.”

Hanging up, Jonghyun wanders aimlessly into the kitchen. His room is too stiflingly hot at the moment, and he wonders whether he should make himself some iced tea to cool down. He’s not a fan of sugarless tea, but he’s been keeping faithfully to his diet these past couple of weeks and he doesn’t want to break his streak now.

It’s just his luck, of course, that Taemin has to be in the kitchen as well. He’s standing in front of the sink, staring blankly at it. Jonghyun waits for a while, to avoid any conversation with the younger, but as time passes it becomes clear that Taemin’s either discovered Narnia in their sink or has had a mental breakdown, because he isn’t moving.

Despite his best efforts to ignore the other’s presence, Jonghyun notices that Taemin looks somewhat distraught.

“Excuse me,” he says, stepping into the kitchen. “Are you done?”

“I…uh…”

“Could you hurry up, at least?”

Taemin nods, and bends down to start pulling something out of bin under the sink. They’re those little cartons of flavoured milk, the ones Jin had bought a couple of weeks ago when he’d learnt that Taemin still liked them. He removes a couple more while Jonghyun watches, completely incredulous.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jonghyun snaps, unable to bear the farce anymore. Why is Taemin picking milk cartons from the bin, and why does he have such a sad look on his face?  

“I was just getting the milk.”

“What?” Jonghyun remembers seeing Jinki throw the cartons out yesterday, saying something about how they’d expired.

“It’s expired, but they don’t really go off until a bit later. They might still be okay to drink.” Taemin actually picks a carton of coffee milk and searches for a straw, as if he’s actually going to drink milk that’s just been pulled out of the bin.

“Are you crazy?” Jonghyun all but yells, unable to comprehend Taemin’s sudden insanity. “It’s been out of the fridge since yesterday, of course it would have gone off by now.”

He grabs the coffee milk from Taemin’s hand and flings it into the bin. Without waiting, he sweeps the rest of the cartons from the top of the kitchen counter into the bin as well, hating the way his gut twists at the thought of Taemin drinking expired milk. He ignores the voice at the back of his mind saying that Taemin looked far too much at ease digging through the bin, and even at the thought of drinking expired milk, for this to have been his first time doing it.

“Look here, get your act together. If you the comeback up in any way, and for something as stupid as drinking expired milk, I’ll-”

“I won’t mess it up,” Taemin says, not meeting his eyes. “It was just a waste, that’s all.”

“You’re a waste,” Jonghyun mutters, keeping his voice low but all the same unconcerned whether Taemin could hear him.

Taemin apparently does, because he responds “I know.”

~

They’re in the middle of a break, and the members and back-up dancers are scattered around the practice room. Jonghyun sits in companionable silence with Minho, and tries to ignore Taemin, who is chatting with one of the back-up dancer hyungs.

Kibum’s phone starts ringing, and Jonghyun watches lazily as the former dashes to his bag to get it.

“Do you remember practicing for about six hours after school when we were trainees?” Minho asks, out of the blue.

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever feel this worn out?”

Thinking back, Jonghyun answers “Actually, no.”

He’s about to say something about how weariness of the soul turns into weariness of the limbs when Minho says “Damn, we’ve gone soft.”

“I guess.”

That’s when Jonghyun notices Kibum slowly leaning against the wall, as if his legs aren’t strong enough to hold him up.

“Key?” Realising that things aren’t alright with Kibum, Jonghyun gets up and walks over to him. “Bum?”

Kibum ends the call, and when he looks up, Jonghyun can see how his face is drained of all colour; he looks shaken. “Kibum, what-”

“My mother has been admitted.”

There is a slight edge of panic in Kibum’s voice, and Jonghyun can feel his own throat close. Mothers in hospitals is never a good thing. Jonghyun instinctively stands in front of Kibum, blocking him from sight. Kibum never wants the rest of their bandmates to catch him in a moment of weakness, and Jonghyun is so used to being his shield that he does so now on instinct. “Go back, then. I’m sure we can do without you for a day or two.”

The younger shakes his head. “My appa said that they’re not sure whether it’s because of exhaustion or her heart problem, or how serious it is, and he said it’s probably better if I didn’t come because she’ll just get emotional.”

“She’s your mother. If you want to see her, I don’t think anyone has the right to stop you.”

His support is met with another shake of Kibum’s head. “Not now. He’ll call me later tonight and we’ll see what to do then. Jjong, just-”

“Anything you need.” He means it; whatever disagreement they have between themselves is petty, easily set aside, in the face of something this serious.

“Just keep it to yourself for now.”

“Okay.”

It turns out to be her heart. Jonghyun is with Kibum when he gets the call, and he watches as the younger’s face crumples upon hearing the news. A long time ago, when they were just trainees, Kibum had confided in him how difficult it was growing up without his mother, and how he wished he hadn’t been born because he didn’t deserve to live at her expense. This time, it won’t be him that Kibum confides in; too much trust has been broken for them to be that close again, and Jonghyun only hopes that whoever he chooses to seek comfort from knows how to give him the support he needs.

“Can you tell Jin-hyung for me? I’m going to drive down to Daegu, but I’ll be back before practice tomorrow.”

Jonghyun stops him from walking out of the kitchen. “Let me come with you, or at least drive you.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“I could ask them to cancel practice tomorrow. It’s just one day, we’ve worked on shorter schedules before.”

However, there is no stopping Kibum when he’s made his mind up. “It’s fine. I really don’t need the news spreading around the company.”  

Jonghyun rolls his eyes. “Call me when you get there, okay? Drive safely.”

~~~

Nobody recognises Kibum when he walks into the hospital and asks for his mother, even though he has to give his name to the nurse. He supposes that it’s one of the benefits of having such a common name.

His mother doesn’t look as bad as his runaway imagination imagined her to be; she looks a little more tired than usual, but her hair is still neatly styled and she’s wearing one of her jumpers instead of the hospital gown.

“Umma,” he calls, standing at the door. He feels like he’s three again, standing in a hospital ward not knowing whether he’ll see his mother again.

“Kibum-ah?” she looks surprised to see him. “You drove here by yourself?”

It’s just a simple question, but Kibum finds himself unable to answer it. Suddenly, there are tears in his eyes and sandpaper in his throat, and no matter how hard he tries to steel himself, he teeters on the edge of breaking down. He’s glad that his father isn’t around to see this. “Umma…”

“Come here,” she says, extending her hands.

He goes to her, crawls up on the narrow hospital bed as if he’s a child, and lies on her lap.

“Aigoo, Kibummie,” she coos, his hair. “It’s not a big deal. People with my condition have complications all the time, all it needs is some rest and medication. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

She’s lying. Kibum’s father had told him how she’s been put on the waiting list for a transplant because the doctors aren’t sure whether a surgery will be enough to fix the problem. Kibum doesn’t need to be told that there is a possibility that she may not even survive the surgery.

“Take my heart,” he sobs. “Take mine. I don’t need it anymore.”

“Kibum!” Despite her stern tone, his mother’s hands are gentle on him. “Aish, what is this? You’re not a baby to be crying like this. You always get so scared of these things. You’re so brave about everything else, and then you cry over small things like this.”

He calms down after that, allowing her to soothe him with her lies. They’ve spent so little time together, Kibum thinks, because of his selfish desire for more than the middle-class lifestyle he’d been born into. If he’d just accepted what he’d been born with, and just learnt to take over his father’s business, he’d still be living in the same city as them. He’d be able to drop by for dinner on most nights, and insist that his mother rest instead of working so hard. He’d be able to do things for her too, like grocery shopping and cleaning and errands. What does he do now, apart from visit them on the rarest of occasions?

When the first light of dawn starts showing through her blinds, Kibum disentangles himself from his mother. “I have to go,” he says. “I’ll try to come again tonight.”

“Don’t,” she instructs. “Your appa and halmeoni come often enough. Just call me like you usually do. I should be discharged in a day or two, and then maybe you can come to the house.”

“Neh, umma.” He doesn’t say goodbye; can’t bring himself to, this time. It’s too final.

~

When he gets back, eyes puffy from crying and lack of sleep, no one questions him. Jonghyun must have told them in his absence, and he’s grateful that the other members aren’t trying to shower him with sympathy.

When the van pulls up in front of SM, Kibum sees that the parking lot is full of people, cameras at the ready. He can’t bring himself to smile at the various flashing cameras today, so he keeps his head bowed low and scurries into the safety of the building as quickly as possible. How he wishes he could be allowed to take the back door like Taemin.

His mind isn’t in practice today, but when the other members don’t call him out on it, the choreographer doesn’t as well. In their debut year, he would have been raked over hot coals for such unprofessionalism, but they’re seniors now.

“Are you going to Daegu tonight?” Jjong has followed him into the men’s room to ask this question.

“No. I want to, but she doesn’t want me there and you saw how useless I was today. I’ll go down on the weekend.”

“Okay.” Kibum is glad that Jjong doesn’t ask for details about his mother.

Despite how tired he feels, Kibum is unable to sleep. He tosses and turns in his bed, mindful not to make too much noise because he doesn’t want to disturb Taemin, kept awake by unchrystallised fragments of anxiety. He’s no stranger to insomnia, but it has been a long time since he’s suffered it with such potency.

“Key-hyung?”

Kibum turns to face Taemin, wondering whether the younger woke up by himself or whether it was one of his endless sighs that interrupted his slumber. “Hmmm?”

“Are you going to Daegu tomorrow?”

“No. We’ve got so much work to do, so I think I’ll only be able to visit on weekends. And even if we weren’t, it’s not such a good idea. Someone’s bound to recognise me at some point, and then there’ll be fans and media camped outside the hospital. I don’t want to put my umma through that.”

Taemin is silent for a long time. Finally, he says “She’ll get better.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I can handle this myself.”

~~~

Having to practice with Taemin on a daily basis, and to have to see his spaced-out, bovine expression in the dorm, casts an almost permanent damper on his mood.

Said mood hasn’t been improved by SM’s decision to send a three-member band to perform in the KBS 700^th anniversary show, with the three members being made up of Jinki, Kibum and Minho. He doesn’t quite buy their reasoning that they want to keep him in good shape for the anniversary show, but he doesn’t question it. He’s learnt over the years that there isn’t much any of them can do about last minute changes like this. He can’t imagine what Kibum must be feeling.

Having been freed for a night, and knowing that most Shawols would be glued to their television sets, he decides to make a call to person who’s helped him the most through these trying weeks.

“Jonghyun-ah?” She sounds surprised.

“You sound as if I never call you at all,” he says.

“You don’t, not this early anyway” she replies. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Are you free? Can I come over?”

She laughs. “When have I ever said I’m not free? Come over if you want.”

“See you in a bit, then.”

~

By the time the 25^th comes by, they’re all nervous wrecks. Their producers decided that Taemin would make his comeback in the final song, Sherlock, so that the fan reaction, whether it is positive or negative, will not affect the rest of the concert. It will also give SHINee a chance to slip away as quickly as possible after the revelation.

Jonghyun sings a song he recently composed. The lyrics are a bit raw, and the composition simple and unpolished, but the fans cheer faithfully anyway. More emotion bleeds into the song than he likes, mostly frustration, but they seem to interpret it as him really getting into the lyrics.

They perform Dream Girl and Why So Serious, and neither performance is their best. There’s nothing at stake here, he keeps reminding himself. Shawols are a more forgiving, more temperate bunch than most other fandoms; he learnt that well enough in the aftermath of the Sekyung scandal, where despite shutting down, none of his fansites called for his removal from the band. If there’s any fandom that will welcome a runaway, it’s the Shawols.

And yet, he’s scared. Fans, even the best of them, can be a fickle bunch. He’s seen a number of his fansites turn into fansites for various EXO members, and Taemin’s return might just be the last straw for the Shawols.

When they go to the changing room right before the final song, the air is so tense that it makes the hairs on the back of Jonghyun’s neck stand. He can see it in the lines around Jinki’s mouth and the way Minho won’t stop fiddling with his earpiece. Taemin is already dressed and painted, his eyes flicking nervously around the room. The only person who doesn’t look nervous is Kibum, although Jonghyun is sure that the younger is just doing a better job of holding it in than they are.

“This is it,” Jin says, calling them together. “This is your chance to save your careers.”

Jonghyun can’t help but think that his career wasn’t in any need of saving before Taemin’s return. From the sneer on Minho’s face, he can tell that the rapper is thinking the same.

“This is your band,” Jin continues. “SHINee. You didn’t get your reputation for being SM’s hardest working band for nothing. You aren’t considered the kings of dance for nothing. You aren’t standing here today, five years after debuting, for nothing. Go out there and remind them exactly why they’re all standing there screaming your names.”

It’s as cheesy a prep speech as Jin’s ever given them, but something in it resonates with Jonghyun; it feels right, somehow. Complete, even though he hasn’t thought of a four-member SHINee as incomplete for a long time now.

The stage is dark when they step out. The fans start murmuring when they notice a fifth person in the line-up, and Jonghyun guesses that they probably think it’s a back-up dancer. His heart is hammering in his chest, like it hasn’t since they were a rookie band, and despite his resolve to hate Taemin, he finds himself relishing the challenge.

When Taemin spins out, the final dancer in the line, the lights come on and the beat drops. An audible gasp echoes in the small stadium, but that’s no excuse to stop dancing. All five of them stay on track, Jonghyun notes with satisfaction, proving that the long hours of practice have paid off.

When Taemin’s voice joins theirs in the chorus, the fans gasp again. The susurrus of speaking voices can be heard over the loud music, but so far the fans appear to be speaking within themselves, and no one is attempting to communicate anything at the band onstage.

When the final verse is sung and they fall into formation for the last bit of dance, the fans start chanting. It starts with a few of them in front, but is quickly picked up by the entire stadium.

“Lee Jinki, Kim Jonghyun, Kim Kibum, Choi Minho, LEE TAEMIN, SHINee!”

It drowns out Kibum’s last line – Jonghyun’s favourite part of the song – but he doesn’t mind at all, not with fans screaming “SHINee’s back! SHINee’s back!” at them.

They finish the dance and fall back into formation, with Jonghyun at the head. He looks out into the crowd of elated, adoring fans, and can’t help smiling back at them.

SHINee is back.

~

Arrangements have been made with the organisers to keep the fans in their seats until SHINee have been whisked away from the stadium. Jonghyun gets his phone out as soon as they’re in the van, curious to see what the audience reaction has been.

The news appears to have taken off on twitter first, with a number of fansite hyungs and noonas posting about Taemin’s return. Retweets generally express scepticism, and Jonghyun can just imagine the reaction on Tumblr when the fansites release their photos. Scrolling through, he realises that most of the tweets deal only with the fact that Taemin is back, and no judgments have been made, good or bad.

Besides him, Key is also on his phone, and Jonghyun peeks over to see him on Instagram.

“Any photos yet?”

“Nothing HQ. It’ll probably take a little while before the reaction starts. We’ve barely been out here for, what, twenty minutes?”

The cause of all this excitement sits quietly in the back. It’s one of the thing that irks Jonghyun; how Taemin will dance and sing with them, but he won’t say anything that doesn’t relate to work. It’s not that he wants Taemin to grovel before them and beg for forgiveness, or that it would be enough for him to forgive Taemin, but the fact that he hasn’t even attempted to apologise is just rude.

“Drop me off at my house,” Jonghyun says to Jin.

“Again? You barely stay over at the dorm these days. Is there something I should know about?”

Yes, there is, but Jonghyun wants to keep it to himself for a little while longer. “It’s more comfortable staying at home. And Roo misses me when I’m not there.”

“If you say so.” Jin doesn’t sound entirely convinced but he’s entirely too preoccupied with comeback matters to snoop through Jonghyun’s personal life at the moment.

~~~

Things really get going when they arrive back at the dorm and Jin answers a call from SM’s PR team.

“It’s insane,” the head of the team says, which they can all hear because Jin’s put it on speaker mode. “We expected the phone calls from the news agencies and fansites, but this…”

This being the numerous calls, apparently, from every talk show, variety show and magazine produced in Korea, demanding for an explanation, and more importantly, offering ridiculous sums of money to be given the exclusive rights to the story of Taemin’s return.

For an initial reaction, it is better than anything Jinki had hoped for. There’s no telling how the tide might turn in the next couple of days, but nothing any of them have seen so far indicates a backlash over Taemin’s return. Maybe the Shawols do deserve their reputation for being the most docile fanbase of all.

They’re all lounging in the living room, following threads on various articles and fansites on their phones quietly – it’s the closest Jinki’s come to feeling like things could go back to the way it used to be – when someone starts pounding on the front door.

Everyone turns to him, as if he magically knows how to deal with this. Jinki contemplates calling Jin and asking him what to do, before chiding himself; just because he’s an idol doesn’t mean that he needs instructions to open a door. Looking through peephole, he sees Kai standing squarely in front of the door, his flailing arms being held by Kris. He must have been the perpetrator of the banging, then. Suho and Kyungsoo are also there, standing around looking as worried as hell.

No danger, then.

“It’s EXO,” Jinki says to the boys clustered behind him, and opens the door.

Kai barges in, not bothering to exchange formalities with any of them. Jinki doesn’t normally tolerate impunity from hoobaes, but he figures that this transgression can pass unmentioned.

Key catches Kai as he barrels towards Taemin and drags him to their room. “You two talk it out in here,” he says, grabbing Taemin before the latter can back away, and shoves them both into the room. Without waiting for either boy to answer, he slams the door and theatrically dusts his hands. Jinki feels both admiration and jealousy at his ability to handle these situations, and reminds himself to compliment Key on it someday.

“We are so sorry, sunbae-nim,” Suho says, bowing low. “We tried talking him out of it, but he wouldn’t listen to any of us.”

“It’s fine,” Jinki says. “Kai used to be really close to Taemin, didn’t he?”

“I’m honestly shocked that he didn’t know already,” Key interjects.  “You were there at my birthday party when he came back, and Yixing too, if I’m not wrong. You mean to say that the news didn’t spread in your dorm?”

“I asked them not to say anything to Jongin,” Kyungsoo says. “I didn’t want Jongin to go searching for him and get heartbroken if Taemin...if Taemin rejected him somehow.”

“The leaders of EXO-K and M don’t keep secrets from each other, so I know what Suho knows. Once we decided that Jongin didn’t need to know, it was natural not to tell anyone else.”

How easy it is for them, Jinki thinks. His experiences with secrets and members had lead him to conclude that there simply isn’t a point trying to keep anything away from any one of the members. He’d learnt very early on that nothing stayed secret between Jonghyun and Key – certainly not before the Sekyung scandal – although Minho could be relied upon to keep secrets which he felt – the key here being Minho’s discretion – ought not to be shared amongst the members. As for Taemin, Jinki had eventually come up with the term ‘black hole’ to describe his secret-keeping abilities; he’s either forget the secret altogether, and blink in confusion if Jinki brought it up again, or forget that it was supposed to be kept secret and blurt it out like it was common knowledge.

“How long have they been in there?” Kyungsoo asks, peering at the closed door.

“Not long,” Minho replies. “Can we offer you anything? Coffee? Water?”

“Anything to get out of the doorway,” Kris says, moving into the dorm. “And I wouldn’t say no to an energy drink, if you’ve got one.”

~

Taemin and Kai emerge from the room half an hour later, the latter with red, swollen eyes and a wet face, and the former with a smile. The conversation the six of them were having about the rumoured merger between SM and some other unnamed media company drifts to a halt, although Jinki can’t name what they’re waiting for.

“Well?” Kris asks first, clearly not accustomed to Korean concepts of seniority yet. Jinki chides himself for noticing at all; he doesn’t want to be the type of sunbae he used to despise.

“Well what?” Taemin responds. “As you can see, Jonginnie is in one piece.”

“Yah!” Jongin elbows Taemin in the ribs. “It wasn’t me who deserved to be beaten.”

Jinki isn’t surprised at all when Taemin uses his aegyo to mollify Kai. SHINee’s maknae loops his arms around Kai’s waist and makes a pouty face at him. “But I’m your hyung!” he says. “Respect your hyung, Jongin.”

It works. Jongin smiles at him, and Jinki knows that they’ve made up. Maybe he would find it easy to forgive Taemin if they used to be that close.

“, it’s almost two!” Kyungsoo exclaims then, standing up suddenly and throwing Key off-balance; the rapper had been leaning against his favourite hoobae during their conversation. “We need to get back before the manager’s roll-call at three!”

“You have roll-calls in the middle of the night?” Minho asks, surprised. As cruel as managers can be, even they hesitate to deprive idols of the precious few hours of sleep that they can get.

“It’s not a proper roll-call,” Suho explains. “He comes around and checks our rooms at three to make sure we’re all there.”

“So you can’t go out? Or bring people back to the dorm?”

Suho shakes his head. “If we brought anyone back to the dorm, there is an army waiting outside to tear them limb from limb. Seriously. And as for staying out, apparently the management doesn’t want us getting into scandals just yet. But as long as we’re back in time, no one makes too much fuss.”

“It’ll take us half an hour to get back to the dorm,” Kyungsoo says, already at the door.

“Go, go,” Key says then, prying Kai out of Taemin’s grasp. “He’s not going to evaporate, you can come back and see him anytime.”

Kai allows himself to be dragged out by his hyungs, still not bothering to acknowledge any of the SHINee members; Jinki guesses that he must still be overwhelmed.

“They’re so different from us,” Key says when the EXO members have left. “I don’t remember us being that formal around each other.”

Jinki wonders whether things would have turned out differently if they had.

~~~

It turns out that Taemin was born under an auspicious star, or has a guardian angel, or is just plain lucky, because the media storm around his return has nothing truly damaging to say. Nobody seems to have caught on to his stint as an oil tycoon’s plaything or how he illegally hopped borders; there are plenty of conspiracy theories floating around, though, and Soo Man has a solution in kind for this.

“We’ve sold your re-debut interview to W Korea,” he says, and Kibum is reminded of Sayuri’s mizuage being sold to the highest bidder in Memoirs of a Geisha. “When they asked you why you disappeared for two years, you will inform them that you made a deal with me, one that even your managers and bandmates knew nothing of. You debuted at a very young age and wanted to see the world so that you could be a more complete person, a person with enough experience to know of the things he sings.”

Kibum glances over at Taemin, and sure enough, his eyes are starting to glaze over.

Soo Man must have noticed this as well, because he winds down his long-winded and, frankly, cheesy explanation. “So you were off discovering the world for two years, and the time is now right for you to return. There was no running off, no abuse, no breach of contract. Are we clear?”

“Neh, songsaenim.”

“And as for the rest of you,” Soo Man turns to them “you were undoubtedly angry and hurt because the truth was kept from you, but that anger was only born out of worry for Taemin’s safety.”

“That’s stretching the truth a bit too far,” Jonghyun says. “Surely the fans won’t believe that we weren’t at all concerned about the effect of the scandal on the band, and that we were only worried about darling little Taemin.”

“Make it believable,” is all Soo Man has to say.

“You’re excused,” he declares “except Kibum. I have something to discuss with you.”

It’s a simple and effective ruination of his day; they rarely get called into personal meetings, but it’s never for a good reason. Kibum mentally flips through his activities for the past week, searching for anything that could have lead to this.

“Your performance lately has been lacking, but given the circumstances I am genuinely surprised that you have held it together as well as you have. However, it appears that your lack of enthusiasm has been noticed by the fandom, and people are starting to compare you and your bandmates, especially Taemin, in a way that is unfavourable to you.”

Soo Man leans forward while Kibum is still processing his less than straightforward statements.

“I’m not going to do anything, because anything that distracts from Taemin’s history is a good thing, but I’d advise you to be careful. Your incapability to perform is being blamed on your activities outside the band, particularly in relation to a certain model, and all it takes is one pap reporter with an oversized ego for this whole enterprise to come crashing down around us. Am I making myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” Kibum says, feeling sick. He knows that a few fans have made the connection between him and Seop, and Seop had shown him a blog dedicated to them, but he’d dismissed it because it is nothing compared to the waves of interest he gets from Jongkey shippers and even normal Shawols.

But he hasn’t an inkling about the other things Soo Man referred to. Lacking? Incapability to perform? He knows he hasn’t been smiling at the camera noonas as often as he used to, but surely he’d have spotted adverse fan reactions?

And then Kibum realises that no, he wouldn’t have. He’s been too busy Skyping with his mother, researching her heart condition and monitoring Taemin’s health that he hasn’t had much time to read the comments on his Instagram or on his various fansites.

But surely one of his bandmates would have brought it to his attention?

Again, Kibum realises, he’s wrong. Jjong could always be relied on to know exactly what the fanbase is thinking, but their paths have barely crossed offstage this past month. While Jjong might have gone out of his way to warn Kibum of any major criticism online before this, it’s entirely possible that he has other priorities now. It’s possible that he doesn’t even know of the criticism, because he has no reason to be looking at Kibum’s fansites. Of the others, Minho isn’t much of a netizen, Jinki has somewhat eccentric interests and Taemin has been too busy working his arse off.

Stepping out the building, Kibum is greeted by camera flashes and screams. A girl tries to press something into his hand; he notices that it’s a letter and takes it, but the attention seems almost hostile now. Are they watching him? Are they measuring the wattage of his smile? How many of them will go home and write scathing reviews of his performances, unaware of the fact that the only thing occupying his consciousness these days is the fact that his mother is dying?

~

“Seop?”

“Key? I was just thinking of you. Now that you’re done with the anniversary, do you think you’d be free to get dinner?”

Kibum sighs internally. He wants to tell Seop about his mother, so that he can stop pretending to be fine in front of his boyfriend, but at the same time he doesn’t want to deal with the outpouring of sympathy that such disclosure will undoubtedly trigger.

“You know the photos you posted on your twitter, of us at Miya’s and of you at the dorm?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you please take them down? They’re attracting too much attention.”

“They can’t be. I’ve barely got a thousand followers, and even fewer than that on my Instagram. Jonghyun is way more obvious than that, so this should be fine.”

Kibum isn’t sure what he was expecting, but this isn’t it. He supposes that he’s always seen Seop as a rational, career-driven person, who wouldn’t be bogged down by sentimentality when it comes to issues like this. It wouldn’t normally irritate him, but he hasn’t had a good day in a while now and he’s on a really short fuse.

“Jjong is my bandmate. It doesn’t matter how many photos we take together, in whatever position, hell, Jjong can stick his tongue down my throat onstage, all anyone sane will say is that its fanservice. We don’t have that to fall back on.”

“But there are lots of idols who are friends with non-idols. And Hyosup posts loads of photos of you too.”

“Just take the damn photos down! Are you trying to sabotage my career or something?”

“You bas- you know what, you want the photos down? Fine, consider it done.” Seop snaps, and hangs up.

It’s only then that Kibum realises that he’s had his first major argument with Seop. Sighing again, for what feels like the too-many-th time today, Kibum runs a hand through his hair and leaves his room to get water. The door swings open to the sight of Taemin kicking his shoes off in the foyer, Comme des and Garcons leashed and harnessed next to him.

Kibum is momentarily floored by the fact that he hadn’t even noticed that Comme des and Garcons weren’t in the dorm, before indignation kicks on. Did Taemin just take his dogs for a walk without asking him?

“Oh, hey,” Taemin says, as if nothing is out of place.

“Did you just take them out?”

“Yep.” Successfully unshod, Taemin leans down to free Comme des from his harness.

“You kidnapped my babies?”

“I brought them back, so it’s not kidnapping.” Taemin frees Garcons next, and both dogs run to Kibum, playfully nipping his heels. He bends down to pet them, and Taemin sits heavily on the floor. “I know you’ve been busy with your umma and schedules and whatever else, so I thought it might help if I walked and fed them.”

“You don’t have to,” Kibum says, oddly touched by Taemin’s small gesture.

“It’s nothing,” Taemin insists. “I like dogs.”

“Is that right?” Kibum kneels as well and ruffles Comme des’ fur, cupping the little poodle’s face in his hands. “Does Taemin hyung like dogs? Do you like Taeminnie hyung? You don’t, do you? You prefer appa, right?”

Taemin catches Garcons, a bit more rough than Kibum would be, and pulls the dog onto his lap. “Keep your favourite child. Garcons likes Taemin appa more, because Taemin appa doesn’t force him to learn tricks all the time.”

Kibum laughs.

~~~

“Are you actually sleepy?”

Jonghyun opens his eyes and blinks wearily at Kibum, hoping to express to the younger without words that yes, he actually is dead tired and that the business class seat is too comfortable not to sleep in.

“I was just wondering whether you’d know…or if you’ve read anything recently in the fansites or wherever about me?”

It’s not the lightest conversation, and he really is too tired to deal with this, but proper conversations with Kibum are hard to come by these days so Jonghyun shakes off the welcoming arms of sleep to pay attention to him. “Not a day goes by without someone commenting something about all of us. What sort of thing are we talking about?”

“I’m not sure. Criticism?” Kibum pauses for a while, thinking. “Maybe, something about me not being enthusiastic?”

“Oh.” Jonghyun knows what Kibum is referring to. There has been a quiet murmur; a rumbling on twitter and tumblr and a few articles, that Kibum’s not been putting his all into his idol work lately, and that he’s too busy hanging out with his new friends to concentrate on singing and developing himself. There was one article that compared his progress with the rest of SHINee’s members to come to the conclusion that while the other members had developed over the years – especially Taemin – Kibum had regressed. They’re used to taking a little criticism here and there, so Jonghyun had thought nothing of it. “Yeah, there were a few comments and stuff. Nothing you’d have to worry about, though.”

“That’s what I thought, but Soo Man pointed it out specifically.” Kibum sighs. “I know I look tired in photos and maybe I don’t say as much in interviews and stuff, but-”

Jonghyun cuts him off, because Kibum is pushing himself too hard already. If Jonghyun had been in the younger’s place, he’d have demanded to have his schedule cleared. “But nothing. the lot of them. Who are they anyway? So called fans, whinging and that oppa didn’t smile at me like he always does when I stalk him all around Seoul. You don’t owe them anything.”

“Thanks.” There is a genuine smile on Kibum’s face, and now that Jonghyun is looking properly, he can see how weary his bandmate looks.

“Where are we staying this time?”

Kibum shrugs at first, but then answers “Urawa something or rather. Pines, maybe?”

“I just hope the beds are good.”

Kibum scoffs. “By the time we’re done with the concert, you’ll be able to fall asleep on a bed of nails.”

~

Kibum, as he so often infuriatingly is, is right. The stadium was packed, the concert went off without any major glitches and they’d worked so well together onstage that even Gyeongshik had asked whether they’d all made up with Taemin.

It annoys Jonghyun that Kibum is rooming with Taemin; when they were just a four-man band, it would be him and Kibum sharing a room at night, whispering secrets to each other and waking up early to sneak out and get coffee. He’s a little surprised to find himself jealous of Taemin, because that’s something he’s never felt before. It almost feels like Kibum’s replaced him with Taemin.

However, the thing that surprises Jongyhyun the most is that he doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would. It still hurt that Kibum would never again love him the way he did – he doesn’t think that will ever go away – but the raw edge of pain seems to have worn off a little.

This must be what it means when people say that time heals all wounds; it almost feels like his feelings for Kibum are like a square peg slowly dulling into a circle.

Words suddenly come to Jonghyun’s mind, and he springs off the bed in search of paper and a pen. There is a song in this just waiting to be written.    

~

Taemin throws himself into his bed, making the springs creak, and Kibum grits his teeth at the annoying sound. He takes extra care with his nighttime routine, making sure that all of his make-up has been removed and applying an antiseptic toner, because the stress of the next three days is prime cause for a breakout.

“Ah, I forgot how fun Japanese concerts are,” Taemin says, rolling over onto his back.

Kibum almost feels jealous, because the fun of concerts has worn away lately. Maybe it’s because he’s worried about his mother and career, or maybe it’s because he’s grown a bit jaded about this whole idol thing after five years. Kibum hopes it’s not the latter; it’s a terrible thing to burnout at just twenty one.

“You were good,” he says instead, doling out well-deserved praise. He can tell that Taemin is absolutely worn out, but the maknae had displayed no sign of that exhaustion during the concert. He’d bounced around the stage like a dog that had been cooped up for too long, throwing his entire body into each dance and calling forth endless expressions of aegyo for the fans.

“I’m not a rookie,” Taemin huffs. “It wasn’t my first concert.”

“Just wait ‘til you get to Tokyo. It’ll be huge.”

“Awesome.” A comfortable silence falls between them, as Kibum tinkers with his stuff and Taemin lounges on his bed. It is Taemin who breaks that silence a little while later. “I never thought I’d miss it this much.”

“Hmmm?”

“Being onstage. This life. Dancing.”

It’s the beginning of some confession, something emotional and heavy, and Kibum feels bad about it, but he wishes that Taemin would just shut up. Yes, he went out of his way to help Taemin. Yes, Taemin should be grateful. He gets that Taemin is trying to express that gratitude, but he hadn’t done any of this for Taemin’s sake; he just did it because he wants to keep Taemin here, wants to keep him where he can be sure that Taemin is safe and happy. It’s not as altruistic as everyone seems to think it is.

He changes the subject. “Speaking of being onstage, did Jongin say when EXO would be having their comeback?”

“Yeah, it’s a couple of days away. I think the MV should have come out by now.”

“Jinki hyung is absolutely terrified of their comeback,” Kibum remarks. He’d been surprised to discover that their leader had been dreading EXO’s comeback for reasons Jinki hadn’t wanted to share with him.

“What?”

“Don’t ask me. You know how weird he gets sometimes.”

“I think I’ll go and watch the comeback if the managers allow it,” Taemin muses, pulling his t-shirt off and snuggling under the covers; his trousers had been thrown in a corner the moment he entered the room. “Jongin will like that. I’ll bring him flowers or something.”

“Good idea.” Kibum shuts the lights off and climbs into his own bed.

“Goodnight, hyung.”

Kibum can’t resist teasing his overly earnest dongsaeng. “Sweet dreams, Taebaby.”

“You’re the ing baby.” Taemin tries to sound tough, but it’s ruined by all the giggling he does in between; as much as he tries to act like he’s made of stone, Kibum knows that the younger thrives on affection. His giggles the sweetest thing Kibum has heard in a long time, and he falls asleep with a smile on his lips. 

XXXXX

Hello everyone! 

I bet nobody expected this update to come so soon. Honestly, I didn't either. It's a bit of a filler, in terms of chapters, but life isn't all drama and some things need to happen before the drama can kick in, I guess? 

And I know I said not to expect so much Taekey in this chapter, but I guess the author in me disagreed. You have no idea how many bits of Taekey I cut out in the final edit. 

Also, this is something I've been meaning to clarify for a couple of chapters, and keep forgetting to. You're all aware by now that this story is told from several points of view. The break between different POVs are indicated with a ~~~, whereas a 'scene' break within the same POV is indicated with a ~. I'm sure you brilliant bunnies knew this already, but on the off-chance that you didn't...

As always, please review! Your reviews give me life. 

Ciao :)