Onew and Jonghyun watched with amusement as it neared midnight, smiles on their faces as the employees of Shine began to head home, designated drivers towing their smashed friends outside. “I hope none of you idiots have the morning shift,” Jonghyun calls behind them, clutching a half-full bottle of beer in his left hand.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Onew offers for the millionth time that night, concern written all over his face.

Jonghyun shakes his head in answer, exasperated after declining repeatedly. “Hyung, it’s Wednesday. You know I always stay late to count up the money and pay bills Wednesday nights.”

“Won’t stop me from trying,” Onew grumbles. “You haven’t been sleeping well for the past few weeks Jjong. I’m worried.”

“At least I sleep more than you,” the shorter man counters. Then, sighing, he adds, “Go get some rest hyung. I’ll catch a late bus and be home in an hour or two.”

After a few more minutes of arguing, Onew gives in reluctantly, and Jonghyun heads over to his office before the elder man can protest. When the chef exits through the back door to the employee parking lot, he nearly steps on someone lying down on the stairs.

“Key-sshi,” Onew states, startled to find the diva staring blankly up at the black clouds against the dark navy night sky, composed yet still intoxicated. “I thought Minho-sshi came to pick you up ten minutes ago?”

The older man jumps when Key’s feline eyes focus on his face and shoot him a scathing glare. “Yah! Chef, I thought I told you to drop the honorifics.” He sits up suddenly, expression softening into the most adorable grin that shows off his pearly white teeth. “I’m Key, remember?—cherished idol and fashionista extraordinaire.”

Cute, Onew thinks. Aloud, he only chuckles in response before reaching down to grab Key by the arms; the younger allows the chef to pull him up onto his feet. “Let’s get you off the floor—it’s cold out here. Why don’t we sit in my car and you can call your brother again? I’ll wait with you until he comes to pick you up,” the elder offers.

Key’s smile twists into a confused expression, as if trying to remember something. Giving up, he shrugs. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

~~

It’s ing hot.

Key was having the worst headache he’d had in a long time, brain throbbing in his skull and muscles extremely sore as if he’d exercised without stretching. There was this intense pressure against his chest, compressing him and making it tough to breathe.

To top it all off, it was burning like the fiery pits of hell and Key wanted out. So, peeling open his eyes and blinking several times, he realizes belatedly that all he could see was green. Key’s head reeled when he attempted to move again, finding that he was pinned in place. What the ? He tried to wrap his thoughts around the situation he was in, realizing that the pressure against his chest is an object—and the source of the heat. It took him a few more minutes to comprehend that said source was an actual person lying on top of him, and another minute to grasp that he was swathed in a green blanket from head to toe, explaining why he could not see anything.

Wriggling furiously, Key tried to free himself, but it was useless since his limbs were pinned underneath his body.  “YAH!” Key shrieked angrily, thrashing his legs wildly. “Get the off me!” The person on top of him groaned, shifting slightly. The pressure lightened somewhat, enough that Key could feel a tingling sensation in his arms, revealing that they were asleep due to the poor blood circulation.

“You’re crushing me!” the diva shouts again, this time a little more apprehensive. His head was throbbing wickedly, and the alarm and adrenaline rushing through his veins because of this unfamiliar situation made it worse. The weight shifted again, and Key heard the sound of someone gasping above him in shock. The voice sounded familiar, but it was not until said person pulled the green blanket away from the diva’s face did he recognize who it was.

Fresh, cold air blessed Key’s sweaty face and neck, and he blinked up at Onew, whose face was inches away from his, small eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay?” the chef asks, rising up on his arms and taking off the bulk of the weight that kept Key pinned to… where was he, exactly? The younger man glanced around briefly, mind registering that they were the living room of a small apartment, lying together on a narrow couch.

The diva pulls his arms out from underneath him, sighing with newfound relief as blood rushed to his numb limbs. He glowers angrily up at Onew. “No, I’m not okay—you weigh a ton, and I’m melting!”

Chuckling with amusement, the chef rises languidly from the couch, stretching with an exhausted yawn. Key tries not to gawk at the toned expanse of skin on Onew’s abs as the muscles moved underneath his skin, but the older man was in fact, shirtless—he was practically begging for an ogling.

“Let me get you some water then,” Onew offered, already heading to where the younger man assumed was the kitchen. The second the chef was out of his sight, Key sat up quickly, unfamiliar clothes clinging to his skin since he was drenched in sweat. The white shirt he wore was too big, the black sweats too loose. They were not his that was for sure—too simple, obviously thrown on carelessly since the shirt was inside out and the sweats were on backwards.

Despite the perspiration on his skin, Key could smell a different scent of shampoo in his hair, and when he rubbed his eyes, the diva realized that he was barefaced as well; all this signaled that he had been coherent enough to shower and wash his face last night. So why could he not remember anything?

“What in the actual happened? Did we sleep together?” he inquired when Onew returned, cold glass of water in hand. The younger man felt the burning dryness in his throat at the sight of the cool liquid, which he accepted graciously.

Onew just laughed again. “Of course we did, right here, on this couch all night long.” Pouting, he added, “I can’t believe you don’t remember—it wasso much fun.”

Key gaped at the chef, unsure how he felt about that—but then he noticed the mischievous twinkle in Onew’s eyes, which gave him away immediately. Key smacked his arm as revenge, albeit weakly. “ you.”

“Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything like that,” Onew assured. “Your phone battery died so I couldn’t call Minho, and Jjong and Tae weren’t picking up their phones. I even tried asking you where you lived, but you passed out in the backseat.”

Key’s eyebrows furrowed. “So… you gave me a shower and dressed me?”

Onew’s toothy smile widened, and he held back a snicker—Key notices this and blushes immediately, feeling somewhat pathetic. “What?” he inquires defensively and feeling self-conscious. “It’s a serious question. I don’t see what’s so funny, especially with my dignity on the line.”

“That was gone the second you started performing aegyo at Taemin,” the chef counters, and Key’s cheeks reddened further. Onew continued speaking with laughter hanging on every word. “When I put you on the couch, you got up like a zombie and started yelling at me for not showing you the bathroom—said something about needing to wash up because you’re an idol and need to take care of your skin.”

Sudden panic overwhelmed Key, practically choking him when he remembered he was not wearing makeup. He looked down at his hands, eyes focused on the glass of water in them.

“How come you haven’t asked?”

Onew supplies the younger with a confused look. “Asked what?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t see them.” Key snapped back, impatient as he locked eyes with the older man.

Oh. Onew realized, understanding what the diva was referring to; at night when the lighting was dimmer, the chef had not seen them, but now that the bright sunlight shined from the window and hit Key’s face at all the right angles, they revealed telling thin white scars all over his bare face and neck.

Onew’s eyes studied the diva’s face for the longest time, which made him fidgety. “Look, don’t tell anyone. It’s supposed to be a secret,” Key pleads, voice hushed when he breaks the silence.

“They never mattered to begin with, so why would I tell someone?”

a/n: definitely more innocent than what ended up happening lol.