Hold My Hand and Run

"I hate you!"

The words sting but Kibum doesn't let his hurt show on his face. "Hate me all you want. It's not going to change the fact that you're not going to that party. You're going to bed. Now."  He prays that Taemin won't challenge him; it's not like he can physically restrain the 16 year old from leaving if he really wants to. 

Luck is on his side. Taemin backs down, clearly angry, but obedient nonetheless. 

Kibum feels sorry for Taemin, he truly does. It's not often that he gets invited to parties, but he's running a fever and can barely walk in a straight line, and it is completely unsafe for him to be drinking and dancing in the company of strangers in his condition. Kibum feels a little sorry for himself too; if Taemin should be angry at anyone, it should be their mother. She should have been here to lay cool cloths on his forehead all afternoon in the hope getting his fever down, to make him warm tea with honey to soothe his sore throat, to ban him from going to the party and to take his resulting anger. 

But she's not. 

She's out there somewhere, probably herself out at some club or doing other things of dubious legality to earn a couple of lousy won. 

It's been like this ever since their father died in a three-car collision six years ago. 

Kibum can remember a time when they didn't live in this lousy, single room council flat in Seoul's seedy underbelly. He can remember a time when his mother and father both worked at the local supermarket down the road from the small house they lived in; he as the night-time supervisor and she as a cashier. They weren't rich - or even middle class - but at least they were a family. 

Losing her husband changed their mother. She gives Kibum money to buy groceries - sometimes once a week, sometimes once every fortnight - and she signs their report cards and whatever else they bring home from school, but it has been a long time since she's been a mother to them. 

Taemin won't tell Kibum what he can remember, so Kibum doesn't know whether he's playing around or whether he's being serious when he sometimes answers him with a 'neh, umma' or when he doesn't want to wake up in the morning and asks for 'five minutes, umma, please'. 

Kibum wipes down their small kitchen counter with a sigh, cleaning away the grease stains from the can of chicken soup he'd warmed up for their lunch. He makes a glass of warm milk for Taemin - milk is a treat in their household, and Kibum had given up his lunch money in order to be able to buy this for Taemin - but Taemin has already fallen asleep on their shared mattress in the living room. 

It's past midnight when Kibum climbs in next to Taemin, having finished his homework and revision first, and he places a careful hand on the younger's forehead to check his temperature. His fever has come down a little, but not enough for Kibum to be comfortable with sending him to school tomorrow. It means that he has to skip another day as well. It is going to be a long day; Taemin will probably wake up angry and be difficult all day tomorrow. Kibum isn't looking forward to it. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Being the light sleeper that he is, Kibum wakes up when the front door creaks open. Their neighbourhood is a rough one and he lives in fear of being robbed, but it takes him no time to recognise the person entering their house. The room is dark - Kibum had turned all of the lights off - but he can smell the stench of the roll-up cigarettes he likes to smoke, can hear his distinctive, graceless gait as he stomps in. 

It is Leon. 

He's dating their mother. He comes by sometimes. If he's in a good mood, he'll buy pizza and the four of them will eat together. He asks about their homework and school and dispenses bad advice. He taught Taemin how to throw a punch so that it breaks the recipient's nose. 

If he's in a bad mood, he'll yell at their mother. He'll break the few plates and glasses they have. He once stubbed out a cigarette on Kibum's arm. He once threatened to throw Taemin down the stairs. 

Judging by the reek of alcohol that follows Leon into the house, Kibum guesses that tonight is not a good night. 

Hoping that Leon is too drunk to detect the movement, Kibum shifts closer to Taemin under their thin blanket and pulls the smaller boy into his arms. Taemin doesn't wake up. Kibum wraps his body around Taemin; he can't fight Leon, can't run from him, can't do anything to protect Taemin. 

Leon opens the cupboards over the sink and stove. Kibum doesn't understand what he's hoping to find, or if he can even see in the dark, but he's welcome to open any cupboard he wants as long as he stays away from them. When those cupboards fail to yield whatever Leon is looking for, he starts bumbling around the house - looking into the small chest of drawers that holds their clothes and school textbooks - and muttering under his breath. 

"!" 

Under him, Taemin wakes with a start. Kibum squeezes him tighter, hoping that Taemin will get them message that he needs to be quiet. Just then, Leon bangs a door shut and Kibum takes the opportunity to whisper in Taemin's ear "Leon's here." 

Taemin goes completely still. 

Heavy footsteps come closer to the mattress. 

Please no, Kibum thinks. Please god no. Leon's never laid a hand on them that way before, but just because it hasn't happened before doesn't mean it won't ever happen. He wonders whether their mother will even care.

"Yah, wake up." A second later, Leon's booted foot nudges Kibum's back. 

No escape. Kibum sits up slowly, hoping that his fear doesn't show on his face. He doesn't say anything, having learnt earlier that, with Leon, he shouldn't speak without being spoken to first. 

"Your mother left some money yesterday," he says. "Give it." 

Kibum's heart sinks. He used that money to buy Taemin some over the counter fever medication and healthy soup instead of the low-cost junk food they always eat. There's barely anything left. 

"I... I used it," Kibum says quietly. 

"What?" 

"I bought groceries," Kibum explains, hoping that Leon will see the logic in that. 

Leon sighs. "Fine. I left my smokes here, where's that?" 

Kibum doesn't have a clue. That is, until he remembers throwing out what he thought was an empty, battered pack of cigarettes when he'd cleaned up earlier. "I... I don't know." 

But Leon sees through his lie. "Don't know? Really?" 

Kibum swallows. 

"Let's try again," Leon says. "Where are my smokes?" 

"I... I accidentally threw them out." Kibum is quaking inside, but he keeps his voice calm and he doesn't turn to look at Taemin at all. Leon's entire attention is focused on him right now and he doesn't want to remind him of Taemin's existence. 

There's absolutely no warning at all before Leon's fist strikes the side of his face. Kibum's head snaps back and for a blinding moment he's more worried that he's snapped his neck than he is about his face. 

"Don't think about lying to me again." Leon's voice is chilling. It carries the promise that the next time Leon catches him lying, Kibum can expect more than a simple smack. 

Leon steps closer and Kibum shifts, moving in front of Taemin whose fingers are curled tightly into the back of his tank top. But Leon is done with them; his next step takes him over the mattress and the next step has him in front of the door; he opens the door and in the sliver of light that shines in, Kibum can see Taemin's ashen face. Leon doesn't even look back before slamming the door shut behind him, throwing the house into darkness once more. 

"Are... are you okay?" Taemin asks. Small, gentle fingers tap at Kibum's face. He winces when those fingers find a sore spot over his left cheekbone, and when Kibum runs his tongue over his dry lips, he tastes blood, but he feels better than fine. He feels relieved; this could have gone so much worse than it did. He got off lighter than he expected to. 

"I'm fine," he replies, stilling Taemin's hand and removing it from his face. He lies down. "I'm okay. Go back to sleep." 

A few breaths pass before Taemin lies down too. Kibum closes his eyes, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. He's almost asleep when Taemin shifts closer, lifting his arm so that he can fit in underneath. Kibum allows it. 

Again, he's almost asleep when Taemin wakes him. "Hyung," he calls. 

"Mmm?" 

 "I... I don't hate you," Taemin says. "I didn't mean what I said." 

Kibum knows, but it warms him nonetheless to hear Taemin say the words. "I know," he replies, and kisses Taemin's forehead. 

"You should leave," Taemin says then. "When you graduate. I've seen your grades, you'll definitely get some form of scholarship. Go far away, go overseas." 

Graduation is only months away, and it is true that Kibum has been using his forecast results to apply for scholarships. However, he's only applied to places close to home, mindful that he has to take care of Taemin until he graduates too. 

"I know you'll stay for my sake, but I don't want you to," Taemin continues. "You should-"

"I'll take you with me," Kibum says then. "I don't care if I have to hide you in a closet or something, but when I go to university I'm taking you with me. There's no way I'm leaving you here, so don't even mention it again. Now sleep." 

Kibum can sense that Taemin isn't entirely happy with the way the conversation went, but he doesn't care. He Taemin's hair lazily, hoping to soothe the younger to sleep. Taemin nuzzles into his chest. 

"Someday I'll be strong enough to protect you," he whispers. 

Someday you won't need to, Kibum thinks. Someday. 

XXXXX

hello readers! 

this is completely random, unplanned drabble. i think it's the first time i've written a completely platonic taekey. comments would be nice, dear readers - tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, etc. 

also, some good news: i've started writing the latest chapter of these violent delights again, after a whole two months or so of not getting anything done. i'm not going to make any promises about when it'll go up, but it will. i haven't abandoned a fic yet and i don't intend to start now. 

so... 

td;dr: please comment, also, i haven't abandoned these violent delights.