This is the fourteenth time today that they’ve practiced the new dance. Jinki’s arms are burning from the effort of spinning the mike stand. Things aren’t quite working the way they’re supposed to be, and it’s obvious to everyone, from the choreographer to the producer to their manager, that there is something unresolved between the members.

When Tony Testa calls a break, Gyeongshik pulls him aside.

“Listen, you’re not going to make your deadline this way. Can I trust you to sort whatever it is you’ve got going on between yourselves?”

Jinki nods his assent, because it’s his job as leader to make sure the members fall in line. Sometimes he wishes he has an easier line-up of members to deal with, not ones with such strong personalities, but he can’t imagine being in a band with another bunch of people.

He finds Key and Jonghyun resolutely ignoring each other, and Minho doing a perfect imitation of a statue.

“Guys,” he begins, only to be met with a truly spectacular eye-roll from Key “what’s going on?”

Key shrugs. “I haven’t the faintest. Ask Jonghyun.”

“Jonghyun-ah?”

“It…he’s been talking to Taemin. Everybody knows it. Look at his face – I haven’t seen you that smug in months.”

“No, I haven’t been talking to him!” Key always becomes loud when he’s angry, and Jinki stops himself from asking the younger to watch his tone. “But I could if I wanted to. Who do you think you are to tell me who I can and cannot talk to?”

Jonghyun practically growls his answer, but he’s blinking rapidly in that way he does when he’s on the verge of tears. “No one. I’m absolutely no one to you.”

~
 

You’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind to not notice that there is something going on between Key and Jonghyun. Jinki had met his ebullient junior on his first day as a trainee and had his heart broken a little when he heard Jjong’s powerhouse of a voice, because there was no way he is going to be a lead vocalist if this is his competition, but he had only met Kibum – or Key, as he was named by Soo Man – a couple of days later.

After that, it seemed that whenever he saw one, the other wouldn’t be far behind. Everybody talked about them; about how uncanny it was that they were being so open about their interest in each other so early in their trainee days, about how Key never denies that he’s interested in boys and how Jonghyuns’ eyes linger on the younger a second longer than is proper whenever they’re together.

When they become SHINee and are placed in the same dorm, Jinki realises how the rumours didn’t even come close to explaining the sheer force of nature that is the Jongkey relationship.

He wakes up at night for a piss and finds Key and Jonghyun watching television in the hall, curled up together under Key’s pink duvet.

He walks into the kitchen for breakfast and finds them feeding each other cereal from the same bowl.

He tries to join in one of their conversations in the van, and finds that they’re speaking in two languages; in plain words, and in secret messages transmitted by their eyes that no one else will ever understand.

When Wong asks him to make sure the members don’t do anything stupid that could compromise their career, Jinki knows he’s talking about Jonghyun and Key.

The thing is, nobody knows how far they’ve gone. Minho refuses to gossip; given the fact that Minho and Key exchange maybe 5 words in a week, Jinki decides that he won’t know anything anyway. Taemin doesn’t seem to know either, but he adores Key and thinks that if there was something going on, Key and Jonghyun can be umma and appa of SHINee. Unspoken is the conclusion that he will be the baby; he doesn’t need to say it because Key and Jonghyun shower him with so much affection that Jinki privately thinks he’s a bit spoilt.

When A.Mi.Go debuts, their families attend the first stage. Jinki is too busy basking in the pride of his parents to notice that Key’s reunion with his grandmother leaves the boy with a fake-smile and watery eyes.

He only realises that something has gone wrong when he comes back to the dorm after dinner to find that Key has locked himself in the bathroom. Taemin is at the dining table pretending to do homework and Minho is fidgeting in his seat, but it appears that he prefers to hold it in than to risk Key’s wrath.

“What’s wrong?” he asks Jjong, who is watching the door with worried eyes.

“Kibum’s grandmother isn’t well. He told her she shouldn’t have come all this way to see him, and she told him that she wants to see him living his dream while she’s still able to.”

The door opens. Key walks out with his head held high, as if he’s challenging any one of them to say anything, and Jinki feels a bit sorry for him; for the way he isolates himself in an attempt not to show any weakness. He averts his eyes from Kibum’s reddened ones, hoping to avoid any hysterics.

Jonghyun, on the other hand, approaches Kibum without any fear of being verbally ripped to shreds. “Kibum-ah, we were supposed to watch Agiwa Na tonight, remember? And it’s your turn to make the popcorn.”

Key ignores him, and walks towards the bedroom. Jonghyun catches his wrist, playing out a scene Jinki has seen in a thousand dramas. “Yah, Kibummie, you promised to let me pick the movie this time. Aren’t you going to keep your word?”

 “What do you want from me?” Key asks, trying and failing to rip his hand from Jonghyun’s grasp.

In response, Jonghyun pulls the struggling teen closer and closer until the younger is embraced in his arms. “Saranghaeyo, Kibummie,” he says.

The fight leaves Key’s body and he gives in, holding on to Jonghyun and sniffling into his shoulder.

“Saranghae,” Jonghyun says again. “But I’m still going to demand popcorn.”

Muffled by Jonghyun’s shoulder, Key laughs.

Minho dashes into the bathroom. Taemin peeps around the corner, watching the scene play out with wide eyes, and Jinki tells him to get back to his homework. Jonghyun and Key carry on as if the world around them does not exist.

And that is when Jinki realises that that they have fallen for each other.

~

In the end, nothing gets resolved. They ride back to the dorm in silence.

Jinki wishes he were a better leader.

~~~

Can I come over for a while?

That one, innocuous message drives Kibum to distraction all day long. Half of him is exhausted from working on the comeback and managing the minefield that is his relationship with Jjong at the moment, but another half of him dances at the idea that Taemin is reaching out to him.

He waits until they’re almost done with dinner to set his scheme – look at the liar Taemin has reduced him to – into motion.

“Do you guys have any plans tomorrow night?”

Jinki shakes his head, which is completely expected. Minho has football. Jjong shrugs and says “I thought of going home for a while. Why?”

A blush creeps up his cheeks, even though what he’s saying isn’t true. “I…I wanted to ask Seop over, and I wanted the place to myself.”

That causes Jinki to cough awkwardly, poor little straight man that he is, and Minho rolls his eyes. Jjong watches him, though, as if he doesn’t believe him. “Doesn’t Seop have his own flat? Why would you want to bring him here?”

“Because it’s always me who goes over there. And he doesn’t let me cook in his kitchen.”

“It didn’t sound like you were planning to do any cooking.” Minho contributes.

“Shut up.”

Jjong stuffs his face, as if he’s trying to get the mental image of Seop and Kibum ing out of his mind by choking himself on kimchi. You brought this on yourself, Kibum thinks triumphantly.

“So?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll clear the place.” Jinki says. “Just…I don’t know, try not to get caught by one of the manager-hyungs.”

~

Taemin catches him by surprise by walking into the dorm when he’s bent over the stove; they haven’t changed their passcode in years, and he makes a mental note to consider whether they should.

“Hi, hyung.”

“Hi.”

Now that they’re both here, the atmosphere becomes awkward once again. There are so many things between them, old wounds and new ones, that he doesn’t know whether he should avoid them or list them down so that they can deal with them.

Taemin makes that decision for him. “No one else is here, then?”

“I asked them not to be.”

“Ah, they’re all…angry?”

Kibum nods, and turns the temperature down on the seaweed soup that’s on the stove. “Jjong’s still angry at me for letting you in, and Minho’s not much better off. Jinki-hyung seems neutral, but I didn’t want to risk it just yet.”

“Do you want help? I can cook now, you know.”

“Let me guess; ramen and microwave meals?”

At least Taemin has the grace to blush.

“And please don’t tell me you still put milk and honey in the ramen.”

That makes Taemin laugh; it’s just like Kibum remembers it, that silly little giggle of his. He pushes the joke a little further. “Do you? I made noodles too. Do you want me to put some honey in?”

It satisfies him to see Taemin shaking with silent laughter.

In the end, he doesn’t add honey to the sesame noodles he made to go along with the seaweed soup. Taemin eats everything Kibum puts in front of him, pausing every now and again to savour the taste, as if he hasn’t eaten a home-cooked meal in ages. Kibum watches more than he eats, mindful that he has to be in shape for the comeback.

“You said you work now?”

“Yes, at a comic book store. Nobody’s recognised me so far, but then again it’s mostly boys who come in and I’m shelf-stacking most of the time, so it’s not like I interact with a lot of people.”

“So how long have you been living in Shinchon?”

Taemin purses his lips around a mouthful of noodles, and speaks with difficulty. “Uhm, four months.”

“And where were you before that?”

“Everywhere. After…after I left, I flew to Singapore and then Kuala Lumpur. I got a couple of fake IDs there. And then I went to London.” Taemin pauses then, and looks at him. “I can see why you love London.”

“You like it too?”

Taemin shakes his head. “Not really. I mean, it’s alright. Everybody minds their own business, but it’s too alien for me. But you’d fit in though. I think some people are meant to live in London, even though they’ve never even heard of it. And when they get there, it’s like they’re coming home for the first time. It’s like they were born Londonders. I think you’re one of them.”

For a moment, Kibum is stunned. He’s never imagined that Taemin can be this mature or this insightful, and it brings back the feeling that he never really knew Taemin. “And after London?”

“I was a bit conflicted – I wanted somewhere that felt more familiar, but it’s not like I could walk about in Hong Kong or Japan without being recognised. I went to Chengdu for a while, then Tibet. After a year or so, I hopped on a boat to Taiwan, and when I got there no one recognised me. I went to that night market we went to, and not one person turned around to look at me. That was when I knew it was safe to come back here.”

“So you’ve been in Korea for a year?”

“No. It’s not so easy to move between one place and another. I had to save up for a flight ticket, and to get a room here.”

There is so much that Taemin isn’t telling him, Kibum realises. Why would he travel to Taiwan by boat? What prompted him to choose Chengdu over any of the other Chinese or Asian cities?

“Key-hyung?”

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking that you’ve grown up so much.”

A smile. “And so Key-umma makes a reappearance.”

“Have you seen your parents yet?”

As soon as the words leave Kibum’s mouth, he knows that he’s touched a raw nerve. Whatever happiness Taemin had evaporates, and his eyes have that desperation in them that they did the night he came back. “Tae?”

“I haven’t.”

“Why?”

“I ran off without saying goodbye. I never called, not once. Who would want a useless, horrible son like me back? I wouldn’t.”

Horrible.

Useless.

Kibum has never associated those words with Taemin, not even during the aftermath of his escape, and it kills him now to hear the younger describe himself that way. He has wondered, many a time, whether Taemin feels sorry for leaving the people he loves to pick up the pieces of his life, but this self-flagellation makes it clear that he’s underestimated the depth of Taemin’s remorse.

“Of course your parents will be angry, who wouldn’t? But they’ll be happy to know you’re alive, at least. I am.”

“You’re different,” Taemin says. “And they could react like Jonghyun-hyung and Minho-hyung.” 

“Do you want dessert?” Kibum changes the topic, because he cannot deal with this. He doesn’t know how Taemin managed to convince himself that he in unworthy of his parents’ forgiveness, or how to begin to undo it, but he guesses that he’s probably the only person from Taemin’s former life that he’s on good terms with. It’s a responsibility he never asked for.

“What have you got?”

“Raid the fridge,” Kibum suggests. “There’s too much food in there anyway.”

By the time Taemin comes back with a black bean jelly dessert, Kibum has put in their 2012 concert DVD in the player. “I don’t know whether you kept up with our activities while you were travelling, but let me tell you about our most amazing concert yet.”

They sit together and watch the concert. Taemin laughs at all of Kibum’s observations and they sing along to a few songs, and the world feels like it’s on the way to being alright.

~

When the encore finishes, and A-yo plays over the credits, Taemin gets up and looks out of the window; it is dark and the autumn wind blows gently through the empty street outside the flat. “I should be getting home. Shinchon is not a place you’d want to wander about late at night.”

“You could just stay here.”

Taemin stops moving, and Kibum knows right then that he’s fighting the temptation to stay.

“What about the others? Won’t they be coming back?”

“Nope. I asked them to bugger off for the night. It’s fine.”

“I…I just wanted to catch up for a while.”

“Yes, and now I’m being a good host by offering you a bed for the night. Especially since it’s late and you shouldn’t be wandering around Shinchon late at night.”

Taking Taemin’s lack of resistance as agreement, Kibum bustles him towards the room he shares with Minho. “Here, you can sleep in my bed for the night. I’ll take Minho’s.”

“It’s okay, you can sleep in your usual place,” Taemin says. “I think I’m old enough to sleep on my own now.”

He has to tell him sooner or later, Kibum thinks. It might as well be tonight.

“This is my usual room now,” he says slowly. “Jjong’s room is his own.”

“But…what?”

“We’re not together anymore. It’s not like we ever were anyway, so, yeah, I guess that’s that.”

Taemin looks shocked. “Is it because of Sekyung?”

Kibum shrugs. “Partly. But people change as they grow, and we sort of grew apart.”

Taemin doesn’t look happy with the explanation at all, but he doesn’t push the issue. There is much more to the end of Jongkey than growing apart, Kibum knows, but he doesn’t want to dig it up all over again.

“If you want to shower or anything, go ahead. I’m just going to take the dogs out for a bit.”

The word ‘dogs’ makes Taemin’s face light up. “Can I come with you?”

It surprises Kibum how quickly Commes Des and Garcons take to Taemin, although it doesn’t surprise him one bit how Taemin rolls on the floor with happiness as the dogs vie for his attention. He’s always loved animals.

“Yah, you’re going to get fur all over your clothes. Get up.”

Taemin responds by pulling Garcons – black-furred Garcons – on top of his white t-shirted body and cuddling him. Commes Des, who is always quick to pick up insolence, tries to climb on as well, and ends up barking at Garcons to get off when he realises that there isn’t enough space on Taemin for two dogs. Kibum puts an end to it by waving their leashes at them, and the dogs forget all about Taemin in their excitement to go outside.

The walk is a quiet one, interrupted only by Kibum’s short admonitions when Commes Des tries to take a stone back with him. Taemin breathes out heavily, seemingly enjoying the sight of his breath misting in the cold autumn air. It’s a peaceful moment, and Kibum takes the time to wonder what he’s trying to accomplish. How many more times can he lie to his bandmates about meeting Taemin? It’s difficult enough to keep his relationship from Seop from the public eye, and he’s not sure he can juggle two secret relationships at the same time. He’s bound to get caught.

But it’s not like he can stop seeing Taemin.

  ~

Being a light sleeper, Kibum wakes when he feels the corner of his blanket being lifted; the intruder stops for a moment, but then slides in next to him. As has always been the case, Taemin’s body is warmer than his, and Kibum finds himself drawn to the heat. He’s always liked warm bodies, and it’s something both Jjong and Seop have in common with his baby.

When he wraps an arm around Taemin, the younger moves closer to him and curls into a semi-foetal position so that he can tuck his head under Kibum’s chin. His shoulder blades are bonier than Kibum remembers, and he pulls Taemin closer so that he can feel them against his chest, so that he can feel in his skin and flesh that Taemin is really back.

He’s missed him so much.

“I’m not too old yet,” Taemin says. “Not-”

“Shhhh,” Kibum soothes. “It’s fine.”

~

Puberty hits Taemin where it hurts the most; his voice. In the space of a few months, his voice changes from the shaky but somewhat mellow baby voice he worked so well on A.Mi.Go to something nasal and borderline unpleasant. This happens after their lines have been allocated for Ring Ding Dong, and it drives their vocal coach insane.

Having been on the receiving end of her ire for his inconsistency, Kibum is sympathetic when she tears into Taemin.

“You sound like a drowning cat! Try that again, and this time try to sing from your stomach. Don’t hold your breath.”

Taemin nods and waits for the music to get to his part. He’s barely sung the first line when his voice cracks from the effort of keeping it low.

“Stop! This song is supposed to be y. Yes, the chorus is absolute bollocks, but listen the verses. You’re seducing a woman, you’re telling her to drop her innocent act and take responsibility for all the passion she evokes in you.”

“I know.”

“Don’t talk back to me.” She throws her hands up in the air. “I give up. Go home, have a warm honeyed tea or whatever and come back at 5am tomorrow. I’ll try to slot in an extra class for you before SM12 or whatever those kids call themselves. Just…just pray that this voice doesn’t stick.”

Jjong tries to comfort Taemin in the van. Unfortunately, he’s as good as that as Kibum is with high notes. “Don’t worry, Taemin-ah. Even if your voice stays this way, you’ll always be a great dancer. I mean, look at Minho; he can’t sing either. And you’re a lot prettier than he is, so-”

Minho’s ears are plugged with his earphones, so he doesn’t hear a word Jjong says. Kibum does though, and he smacks the back of Jjong’s head before he can get any further.

“Of course his voice won’t stick that way. Don’t be an idiot.”

That night, he’s awoken by someone climbing into his bed. At first, he thinks it’s Jjong, who does this more and more now that they have their own room, and sigh of irritation escapes him. It’s not that he doesn’t like sharing a bed with Jjong; it’s that he likes it too much, and someday soon one of them is going to slip up and do something that’ll get them caught.

“ off,” he growls.

The person trying to get into his bed freezes, and this is Kibum’s first clue that it isn’t Jjong. Jjong is so used to being sworn at that he just laughs.

“I…” it’s just one word and it’s just a whisper, but that’s all Kibum needs to recognise Taemin.

“Taemin-ah?” He sits up, blinking the remnants of sleep away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The whispers are so soft that he has to strain to hear them. “I just...”

KIbum throws his blanket open in invitation and Taemin climbs in. They shift a bit to get comfortable, and Kibum wraps his arms around the skinny boy, knowing exactly why he’s made a pilgrimage to his bed.

“You won’t sound like that forever.”

“I want to sing.”

“You are singing.”

“I want to be better.”

You can’t be great at everything, Kibum wants to say. You’re a better dancer, you’re more beautiful, and singing is the only thing I can do that you can’t. “You will be,” he says instead, and kisses the back of Taemin’s shoulder. “Just give it some time.”

“I’m too old for this,” Taemin mumbles, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“One day, maybe in a couple of months or maybe in a couple of years, you’ll be taller and handsomer and better at singing than even me and then you’ll actually be too old to do this. I know it seems difficult to believe now, but your voice will get better.”

“Key-hyung?”

“Yes?”

“…I…it’s nothing.” Taemin touches his hand, fleshy fingertips running over his knuckles, and traces meaningless patterns on the back of his palm. “I have to be up by half past four tomorrow.”

“I’ll wake you up.”

~

Kibum jumps when his phone’s alarm goes off and Taemin practically flies off the bed in his haste to get away from Kibum’s flailing limbs.

“Chill,” he says thickly, still dazed from sleep. “It’s just the alarm.”

“What time is it?”

Kibum squints at the screen. “Quarter past five.”

“I’ll…eurgggh,” Taemin groans, trying to find the t-shirt he’s managed to discard in the night without either of them realising. “So not jealous of your schedule.”

Dropping the phone on the bed, Kibum pulls the younger back into his arms. “It’s my pre-alarm alarm. You can sleep for another half hour if you want.”

“Oh thank god.” It takes Taemin seconds to shake his elder off, steal his blanket and cocoon himself in it.

“Yah, Taemin-ah!” Kibum tries to reclaim his portion of the blanket, but Taemin has tucked all of the edges under himself.

“Your own bed is two steps away,” he says.

“Two steps across the icy floor.”

“Too bad, so sad,” Taemin singsongs, already falling back into sleep.

Kibum shakes him lightly, keeping him in the realm of wakefulness. It’s somehow easier to talk to Taemin in the dark hours of the morning, when the world feels like a secret place, and Kibum takes the opportunity address things he didn’t have the courage to earlier. “Taemin-ah, you have to go and see your parents.”

He feels Taemin tense under his hand. “If it were just six weeks, or six months, I could. But two years…they’ll have moved on by now. They have Taesun-hyung. They won’t want me back. I know they won’t.”

“No parent stops loving their child just because it disappears.” He’s met with silence, so he continues. “I’ll come with you.”

That makes Taemin roll over; in the faint light cast by the streetlamp outside, he can see those brown eyes focused on him. “Really?”

“Sure. We’ll find a day that’s good for the both of us, and I’ll come with you.”

“Thank you.”

~

There is too much junk food in their fridge, so Kibum takes this opportunity to offload some of the rubbish on Taemin. Or at least, that is what he tells himself as he fills a plastic bag with flavoured yoghurt, canned coffee, jerky and biscuits. Now all he has to do is find the chocolate that Jinki will have stashed somewhere in the cupboards; they all love chocolate, but Jinki is an outright for it. Taemin has borrowed another set of clothing for his journey back, and Kibum happily lends him something expensive because it gives him a valid excuse to see him again. That, and the fact that Taemin has always looked so lovely in branded clothes that it’s a pity he cannot afford them anymore.

He’s so engrossed with his treasure hunt for chocolate that he doesn’t hear the front door open until it’s too late.

“Yah, Key-hyung,” Taemin calls as he steps out of the room, “don’t give me any kimchi. My neighbour gives me so much I think I’ll-”

Kibum never learns what the kimchi will do Taemin because there is the sound of something loudly crashing to the floor. A heartbeat later, Taemin comes running into the kitchen, Jjong on his heels.

“How dare you-” Jjong yells, and he can’t tell whether that question is directed at him or at Taemin, but that’s all he needs to realise that the situation is about to spiral out of control very, very quickly. He drops the plastic bag and tries to get between them, but by that time Jjong has caught Taemin. Kibum catches the back of Jjong’s sweatshirt and-

-the next thing he knows is that he’s lying on his back, and there are sounds of scuffling somewhere to his right. Jjong pushed him, he realises. Pushed him with force enough to knock him off his feet.

A pained gasp has him scrambling to his feet; Taemin is crouched in the corner, hand clamped over the lower half of his face, and Jjong has his collar in his grasp, ready to pull him up once again.

“Let go. KIM JONGHYUN, LET HIM GO RIGHT NOW!” The neighbours can probably hear them; above, below, across the hallway. He doesn’t care.

Jjong doesn’t either, because he pulls Taemin up and throws him into the wall. Taemin falls in a heap, and his hand comes away from his face to reveal a bloody mouth. “You selfish bastard, do you have any idea-”

Kibum doesn’t let him finish his sentence. He steps between them and shoves Jjong away.

“Get a grip, now.” Jjong doesn’t look like he will listen, so Kibum draws himself to his full height and stands directly in front of Taemin, shielding him from Jjong’s view. “Stop this.”

“ you,” Jjong snarls. “So that’s why you wanted us out? Tell me, did you cook all his favourite foods? his hair and tell him that you forgive him, poor aegy, it’s okay, whatever existential crisis he was having was more important than our ing careers?”

“Shut up.”  

“Did you two after that? He’s always been a , I’m sure he was too happy to repay you-”

The sound of footsteps, someone running, interrupts Jjong’s tirade. Kibum turns around in time to see the front door slam shut behind Taemin. 

XXXXX

A/N: The chapters get longer and longer. I really should learn how to edit. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.