A/N: Inspired by the MV teaser and my own hyperactive imagination. This is pretty long so I'm not sure if it counts as a drabble or not, and it's actually not quite finished so this 'drabble' may likely have a part two later on. Features WooKey, so no like, no read. As always, I apologize for any inconsistencies and possible OOC. Feedback and reviews would be most appreciated!

Thank you and I hope you enjoy the read!

Drabble #3: Night

Individual practice finished for the night, Woohyun is just about ready to head back to the dorm when his phone rings. The number is one he doesn’t recognize, and he’s half-tempted to ignore it. The ringing doesn’t stop, though, and sighing in defeat, he answers it.

“Hello? Who is this?” He grips the phone anxiously, all sorts of scenarios already playing out in his head. Had a crazed fan somehow gotten hold of his personal number? Was it someone with blackmail material on him? Were the other Infinite members playing tricks on him by using a disposable phone?

The voice turns out to be one that sounds vaguely familiar. “Woohyun.” A beat. “It’s Minho.”

“Minho?” It takes a moment before the name and the voice click in his head. One of SHINee’s members, born in ’91, same as him and Kibum. “Ahh, it’s you, Minho. Hey, what’s up?” A thought occurs to him. “And where’d you get my number?”

There’s a sigh on the other line. “It’s kind of sudden, but I was hoping you’d do me a favour.” Before Woohyun can ask again how Minho, of all people, has gotten a hold of his number, Minho continues. “It’s got something to do with Kibum.”

His pulse quickens at the mention of Kibum’s name. “Why? What’s wrong? Is he in trouble? Did he get hurt?” The words can’t come out of his mouth fast enough. In a corner of his mind, he wonders why he’s so wound up. Certainly, if the managers had called him about the other members he would feel some degree of worry, but nothing like this. Not a sensation like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest if he doesn’t get answers, and soon.

“Nothing as bad as that,” the SHINee member chuckles, and he is suddenly embarrassed at his overreaction. “It’s just that I promised Kibum we’d go to this bar together, but something came up at the last minute so I had to cancel.”

“And Kibum?”

He can almost hear the other man’s shrug over the phone. “Stubborn as usual. Said he was going to go, even if he had to do it by himself.”

“So you want me to check up on him and bring him back home?” Woohyun guesses. It’s not hard to figure out Minho’s reasoning, and learning how the man got his number doesn’t seem very important anymore.

They end the call soon after that. Woohyun says goodbye to his hope of getting a nice, hot shower and just towels the sweat off. Changing back into a pair of jeans and a spare shirt, he bundles up before stepping out into the winter cold. Luckily, there are still plenty of cabs in the area, so he hails one down and tells the taxi driver the address Minho had sent over in a message.

To: Grandpa

I don’t think I’ll be back to the dorm until tomorrow.

I’ll be back before the day’s schedule starts, though.

11:47PM           Tell the managers and the kids for me?

All right. Just be back in time or you’re dead.           11:48PM                           

11:48PM           Yeah, yeah, you old fart. Kkk

You ty brat. Meeting Key again?                        11:49PM

                                    11:50PM          Wow, hyung, you must be psychic~ How’d you know?            

You’re just too predictable. kkkk                             11:51PM

He snorts at his leader’s last response and decides to leave it at that.

When he gets off the taxi, not forgetting to thank the driver after counting out the exact amount of fare, he is thankful for the darkness cloaking him in anonymity. Even at past midnight, the streets are filled with youngsters stumbling in and out of clubs, faces flushed with excitement and alcohol. By contrast, he is invisible, just another nobody in a dark coat and beanie to ward off the chill, face bare and devoid of makeup, no audience watching his every move. Hidden in the crowd, he dials the number he knows by heart, and waits for the call to be picked up.  

“Hello~?” Kibum’s voice is slightly slurred. Woohyun supposes he should be thankful that his best friend still has enough sense to answer the phone. He enters the establishment, scanning the patrons for a pair of cat-like eyes and pale, bleached hair.

No such luck. “Hey, Kibum. It’s Woohyun. Where are you now?” Could Kibum already have left and gone to another place? Woohyun worries his lower lip between his teeth.

“Woohyun!” A drunken giggle. “Bummie’s reaaaaallllyyyy drunk~” Right on cue, a little hiccup. The sound is so endearingly cute that he can’t help but smile before he remembers it’s not exactly the time or place to fawn all over Kibum. “Bummie wants to drink more with Namuuuu!” Another giggle.

“So where’s Bummie?” Woohyun asks, playing along. It never ceases to fascinate him how different Kibum becomes when he’s inebriated. Sober Kibum is all about poise and control; drunk Kibum a picture of femininity and charming aegyo. Both are equally attractive, and he prays that Kibum hasn’t managed to seduce anyone yet, or things could get messy. He tells himself it’s got nothing to do with the fact that seeing Kibum with another woman (or man) dyes his vision red, poisoning him with an ugly feeling of possessiveness.

Woohyun is idly contemplating how to get rid of potential hook-ups when Kibum replies. “Second floor of… hm, what was this bar called again?”

“Just stay there and I’ll look for you, okay?”

“Okay, baby.” He fights down the blush threatening to consume his cheeks. Kibum and his random English phrases. It doesn’t mean anything special, not really, not when the man treats all of his ‘91-line like that. He supposes he should be honoured to even be in Kibum’s circle, given that they’ve known each other the shortest time. None of the other ’91 liners have been fortunate enough to get what he has now: a chance to debut as a sub-unit with their leader, Kibum. It’s a dream he never thought would be fulfilled, but now here they are, less than a month before the official release of their first mini-album.

Kibum is hard to miss, even in the midst of a sea of dancing and swaying bodies. He sits unobtrusively in a corner, cap drawn low over his head, but Woohyun would know those sharply-defined cheekbones and that silvery-blond hair anywhere. Mumbling apologies left and right as he weaves his way towards him, he is surprised when Kibum abruptly stands up and meets him half-way.

Kibum drags him over to his seat, and Woohyun doesn’t really try to resist, because squeezing in between all those people is tiring and he’s just glad to see Kibum after the long day he’s had. The blond man offers him a drink, and he obliges. It’s just one mug of beer, after all. They clink their drinks together, say “Cheers!” and gulp the alcohol down.

To say that he doesn’t expect it when Kibum starts sniffing him would be an understatement. He recoils immediately, panicking. Kibum must’ve caught on that he hasn’t showered yet and is planning to make fun of him. He covers his panic with a playful shove. “Hey, what was that? Falling in love with my scent or something?”

He isn’t prepared for Kibum’s solemn nod, or his blunt answer. “Bummie likes it…a lot.” Woohyun can’t suppress a shudder as his intoxicated best friend exhales, face buried in the junction between neck and shoulder. “Bummie likes it… this musky smell,” he murmurs against Woohyun’s skin.

Kibum finally pulls back, pupils dilated. Woohyun tries to remember how to breathe normally, but those pouty lips are distracting. There are countless reasons why letting Kibum have his way is a bad idea.

And then Kibum grabs his collar and kisses him, and every single one of those reasons flies away.