A/N: I was pretty quick this time, huh? ;) Anyway, this chapter is a bit of necessary filler I guess, but a lot more drama is happening in the next chapter! I feel like I'm on a roll now, so expect an update pretty soon :) Hope you enjoy <3

The week leading up to Thursday had been uneventful at best, awkward and depressing silences being the only thing which seemed to fill the school hours each day. Judging by the gloomy mood which seemed to engulf every hallway, each student seemed to have their own issues going on at that moment, and that idea was the only thing which kept Kibum from skipping all together. It was comforting somehow, to see that Minho and Taemin were just as troubled as he was, and when they sat down in the dance studio that lunchtime, Minho decided it was finally time to say something aloud.

“Kibum, not to be a pain but…are you okay? You’ve been pretty down lately.” questioned Minho softly, voice shaking at the knowledge that Taemin was seated literally right beside him. The younger male stared at the ground intensely as though he hadn’t heard Minho’s query, but his rigid posture suggested otherwise. After all, they were both awfully concerned at how Kibum had been acting the past week. They would have spoken up beforehand, but with soccer practice on Minho’s behalf, and dance practice for Kibum and Taemin, it was safe to say that neither boy had really had the chance.

The oldest of the three picked at his nails absentmindedly, head making a motion in between that of a nod and shake. “I don’t know…” responded Kibum. “Not really.”

Taemin frowned. “What happened? Is Jonghyun being a jerk? ‘Cause if he is, I’ll deck him in the schnozz for you.”

“If you’re going to deck anyone in the…schnozz? Then it ought to be me, Taem. I’ve been a real jerk.” mumbled Kibum, burying his face into his palms and tugging midly at his strands of hair. It was only lunchtime, yet he could already feel a budding migraine forming at the back of his head.

Minho and Taemin glanced at each other, confused, but the shared look was short lived and within mere milliseconds the boys were back with rosy cheeks and shifty eyes, not knowing quite where to look without seeming weird. “Don’t tell me you dumped him, Kibum…” spoke Taemin, horrified.

“No! No way, never!” denied Kibum, shaking his head profusely only to groan immediately after at the onslaught of pain caused by the small action. He took a deep breath to steady his thoughts. “My dad just…grounded me…and I’m not allowed to see Jonghyun anymore unless it’s at my house, and I don’t want to bring Jonghyun to my house because my dad will probably murder him but I miss him so much yet I can’t do anything about it and so I’ve been ignoring him and I feel so awful about it and I’m actually about to cry right now but I’m struggling to hold in my tears, and—“

“Kibum, Kibum. Calm down. Take a breath, you’re ranting.”

The boy in question paused, exhaling deeply and blinking a few times to hold back tears. “Sorry, guys…I guess I’m just feeling a little dodgy today. Don’t mind me.”

Minho leant forward to wrap Kibum in a tight hug and smiled sympathetically. “Stop apologizing, Kibum. What if we all catch up together at your house? Your dad won’t be able to ‘kill Jonghyun’ then, right? And besides, why does he hate him so much? I can’t picture Jonghyun doing anything that bad.”

A loud laugh which lacked any humour escaped Kibum’s throat, and he regarded his friends with a raised brow. “It doesn’t take much to anger my father…but unfortunately for Jonghyun, we practically did the worst thing possible.”

Taemin frowned in curiosity. “Did you set his car on fire? That got me into a lot of trouble once.”

The two older boys struggled to contain their concernedness, merely shooting each other an expression which seemed to scream: ‘what the ?’
Kibum stifled a snort, sobering up in an attempt to answer Taemin’s question seriously.

“No, Taemin. We did not set his car on fire, and I’m not even going to ask why you did. We just…well…held hands? I guess.”

Minho coughed loudly, choking on his sandwich. “Y-You…Held hands? Are you ing with me, Kibum?”

Kibum smiled grimly. “Afraid not. Oh and to answer your suggestion from before: I don’t know. There’s always just this aura surrounding my father that screams ‘I hate your guts, rodent’, and I don’t really wanna expose Jonghyun to that.”

“Yeah but...you realise Jonghyun’s going to be really worried right? Like, I don’t wanna sound rude but…it’s kinda selfish if you don’t tell him about what your dad said. I bet he’s worried sick.”

Humming, Kibum’s gaze returned to his lap. “Yeah…maybe. We’ll see. But what’s new in your lives?”

The soccer player frowned at the change of topic, and became even more uncomfortable when he considered just what was new in his life.

Taemin and I made out on the weekend. It didn’t mean anything but now we can’t even look each other in the eyes. Nothing much, really.

He inwardly shuddered, and one glance at Taemin told Minho that the younger boy was thinking exactly the same thing. “Oh, y’know…” he finally managed to choke out. “Soccer.”

“Dancing. Homework. Setting cars on fire. Just the usual.” added Taemin, trying as hard as possible to look everywhere except at his best friend.

Kibum nodded sceptically. “Right, well…That’s certainly interesting. But Taemin, I think we need to have a little chat about your pyromaniac tendencies. They’re slightly concerning me.”

Jonghyun gave his guitar a gentle testing strum before promptly sighing loudly and placing it back on its stand. It was futile. No matter what he did, whether it be play video games, watch a movie or sing, nothing could get his mind off Kibum. Or, more accurately in this circumstance, the lack thereof. Reaching for his phone upon the nightstand, Jonghyun practically screamed in agony at his non-existent text messages, reading once again the one that Kibum had sent to him four days prior.

‘I’m home safe. Goodnight, Jjong x

Your Number One Fan’

Pouting, Jonghyun threw his phone onto the bed and slumped out of the room, feet trudging along the carpeted floor dejectedly. The faint scent of pasta could be smelled from almost every room in the house, therefore it came as no surprise when Jonghyun entered the kitchen and found Roo drooling over the delicious food his mum seemed to be cooking. “Smells good, mum.” he commented with a smile, but something about the tone of his voice told the other house occupants that Jonghyun wasn’t feeling quite one hundred percent.

Seodam worried her lip between teeth as she took in Jonghyun’s weary appearance, the dark streaks beneath his eyes implying that the male hadn’t slept properly in several days. She clicked the television off and called Roo over, giggling in delight as the small puppy fumbled over and attempted to claw her way up onto Seodam’s lap.

“Well aren’t you a little cutie?” she cooed incoherently, eyes raising in sisterly concern upon hearing the loud collapse of Jonghyun onto the nearby sofa. Seodam frowned, searching her mind for something to cheer her younger brother up. “Hey, Jonghyun. Written any songs recently?”

The singer’s head lifted marginally, and almost pathetically, he shook his head to gesture that no, he hadn’t. The frown creases in Seodam’s forehead deepened, lifting Roo into her lap unconsciously as she studied Jonghyun’s drooping figure. “Why not?”

Jonghyun shrugged. “Dunno…No motivation.”

The answer was short and simple – perhaps a little more so than Seodam’s liking. Quirking an eyebrow, she tutted with fake indignation and shook her head. “Probably because you haven’t caught up with Kibum lately, you poo.” Jonghyun tensed, and the medical student concluded that she’d hit the nail over the head. So Kibum was the root of her brother’s problems. problems, maybe? Judging by how melancholy Jonghyun had been the last few days, most likely not. “What’s up, huh? Is he on holidays or something?”

Seodam knew her brother was sensitive. In fact, anyone who had ever met Jonghyun knew that he was sensitive. However, despite that knowledge, it still didn’t prepare the young woman for the sudden distortion of Jonghyun’s face, baring his teeth unattractively and screwing up his face with a loud sob. Seodam’s head shot to their mother who looked on with wide, apprehensive eyes, nonetheless turning away reluctantly after Seodam wordlessly gestured that she’d take care of it. Seodam hurried over to Jonghyun’s sofa with Roo and sat the small puppy gently in Jonghyun’s lap, smiling affectionately as the bundle of fur began to away Jonghyun’s onslaught of tears. “Hey now, buddy.” she spoke softly, wrapping her brother in a warm, tight hug. “What happened, ‘Hyun-ah?”

Sniffling and coughing in an attempt to suppress his loud cries, Jonghyun held Roo tightly and began to speak. His words came slurred and inaudible, causing Seodam to strain her ears in attempts to gather something out of what Jonghyun began to ramble on about. “K-Kib’m ha’n’t s-spoke to me in days, and he w-won’t reply to my mess’ges, and I dunno wha’ I did wrong!” he began, blowing his nose into a tissue which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. “W-What if somethin’ happened to ‘im? He p-probably hates me. A-And on Sunday,” Jonghyun’s voice seemed to break here, and while half of Seodam thought that the image before her was beyond hilarious, the other half felt her heart break at just how devastated Jonghyun was reacting to the whole ordeal. Whether he would admit it or not, Jonghyun was in love, something which Seodam hoped would treat Jonghyun the way he deserved to be treated. “On Sunday, h-he didn’t even lemme touch him!”

Roo danced all over Jonghyun, his face furiously and nudging their faces together in what Seodam liked to believe was an attempt to cheer the boy up. She wrapped the three of them in a tight group hug and soothingly sifted her hands through Jonghyun’s thick, blonde locks. Comfortable silence was a perfect substitute for a meaningless bout of words, something simple which Seodam knew Jonghyun would appreciate. “Shh, Jonghyun. Calm down. Shh.” she soothed, carefully adjusting Roo so that she wasn’t suffocating her brother to death. “I think you should go talk to Kibum. Ask him what’s wrong.”

Jonghyun shook his head vigorously and swiped at his eyes. “I don’t think surprising him in p-person will turn out well, Seodam. He’s obviously staying away from me for a reason. I think I’m just going to leave it for now.”

The young woman frowned slightly, but figured that there was no use arguing when Jonghyun was in a state such as this one. Sooner or later he’d come around to his senses, and maybe she’d have another go of talking to her stubborn brother then. “Okay, Jonghyun, but just keep this in mind. There’s always two sides to a story, m’kay? Don’t place the blame all on yourself.”

Jonghyun, still bundled up with Roo and an abundance of cushions, nodded minimally. “Thanks, Seodam.” His fists lifted to rub his eyes forcefully, carefully lifting Roo of his lap in order to stretch. “I think I’m going to go to the supermarket for a bit. Get out of the house and clear my mind.”

His mother peeked at her son from her position by the stove, smiling softly at what she deemed her baby boy. “Take care, Jonghyun. Don’t buy too many sweets, and watch out for strangers.”

Snorting, Jonghyun rolled his eyes affectionately. “I’m twenty-one, mum. I’ll be fine.” He gave Roo a quick scratch behind the ears, cooing. “See you, Roo. Jonghyun-ah will be home soon.”

Upon arriving at the nearby supermarket, Jonghyun immediately made his way to the ramen isle, sliding multiple different packets into his shopping basket. He liked to call it a necessity – something he ate when hungry, depressed or tired. Ramen was similar to medicine, Jonghyun liked to believe. A cure for everything, no matter how big or small. Multiple packs of teabags were also deposited into the basket, and for some reason that day, Jonghyun paused by the cosmetic section, eyeing the boxes of hair dye which lined the shelf.

In deep thought, he ran a hand through his blonde locks, knowing quite well that his roots were probably beginning to show. It was a pretty big decision. Usually something which Jonghyun would spend days upon days contemplating. But this time around the singer was feeling a little bit more impulsive, making move to grab a box of dark brown hair dye and place it with the rest of his groceries.

He didn’t get far. Before his fingers could even make contact with the box, Jonghyun heard the sound of a mess being made behind him followed by the aggravated sigh of a woman. Turning around marginally, his eyes fell upon a pile of dropped groceries on the floor, a middle aged woman wearily bending down to pick them back up. Having completely forgotten about the box of hair dye, Jonghyun rushed forward to help the woman, lifting the heavier items and placing them delicately in the lady’s trolley. “Are you alright, ma’am?” he asked softly, before promptly freezing in his tracks as the woman looked up.

It was Kibum’s mother.

Jonghyun’s eyes widened in astonishment, and he unconsciously took a small step backwards. “M-Mrs Kim! Nice to see you again. Are you okay?”

The woman seemed equally as surprised, but nonetheless nodded softly and offered Jonghyun a small smile. “I’m fine, Jonghyun. Just carrying a little more than I can handle, I think. And it’s nice to see you too.” She studied the boy in front of her intently, taking notice of his red-rimmed eyes and cautious demeanour. A concerned frown threatened to dress her face, and Kibum’s mother was suddenly hit with the realization of just how kind and generous the boy in front of her was.

She knew that Jonghyun wasn’t a high school student. She knew that something about his relationship with Kibum was being concealed. She knew how her husband felt about him. But even so, she also knew just how happy he made Kibum, and before she could overthink it, felt herself grabbing his arm as he made move to leave. “Wait, Jonghyun!”

Jonghyun jolted in surprise, yet still paused to listen with a patient smile upon his lips.

“Look, Jonghyun…I know you’re not a high school student. B-But before you move to run away, I just want to tell you that no matter how you met my son, I don’t care.” She took a deep breath, adrenaline flooding her veins as she went against everything that her husband tried so hard to enforce. Jonghyun was frozen with disbelief, hands shaking faintly as she confronted what Kibum had tried so hard to hide. But before he could fret too much about it, Kibum’s mother continued, something which was equally as confusing to the both of them. “And I really shouldn’t be telling you this but, if you want to meet with Kibum, then I suggest coming to his school on Wednesday in two weeks time. We have parent teacher interviews. Oh and…if it means anything? He um, misses you a lot, Jonghyun. Hasn’t stopped moping since he got grounded on Sunday.”

A lot was going through Jonghyun’s brain at that particular moment, such as ‘why on earth is she being so nice to me?’, however the only thing he could manage to choke out was: “H-He’s grounded?”

Shocked that Jonghyun didn’t know about Kibum’s grounding, Kibum’s mother blanched before simply nodding sadly. “Unfortunately. And it was nice chatting to you, but I have a lot of housework to get through today. Don’t tell Kibum I said anything, alright? See you, Jonghyun.”

And she was off, leaving Jonghyun to simply stand there with his shopping basket in complete and utter confusion. There was a lot of new information to think about, including the opportunity to see Kibum in two weeks, but the singer couldn’t help but want to see Kibum a lot sooner than that. He sighed deeply one last time and took off, making sure to grab that lone box of brown hair dye on the way out.

Kibum and Taemin sat by the oval the following lunchtime, watching on with neutral eyes as Minho and the other players trained for their upcoming match. “I’ll never understand this game…” Kibum had muttered, Taemin mechanically nodding on in agreement. That wasn’t quite true. After Taemin had befriended Minho, he’d actually learned a lot about soccer, going to watch Minho on multiple weekends and having to listen to the times where Minho would ramble on about his interest at lunchtimes. And honestly, now that Taemin had figured out his feelings for the older boy, he definitely wasn’t complaining, taking appreciation in the way the sun perfectly reflected against Minho’s tall, sculpted body.

The two hadn’t spoken about the kiss since the day it happened, and while Taemin felt as though he should have been completely content with that, another part of him itched to speak up. Minho had looked as though he enjoyed it at the time. And he was the one who had suggested it in the first place. But with this onslaught of awkward glances and the inability to hold eye contact, Taemin couldn’t help but wonder what was really going through his best friend’s mind.

“Hey, Kibum?” he spoke, his lips nervously as the older boy looked his way.

“Hm?”

Taemin diverted his gaze to the ground and tried to make his speech sound as hypothetical as possible. “What would you do if just say…someone asked to kiss you one day, and then after you kissed, never brought it up again? Theoretically, of course.”

Confused by the random question, Kibum frowned, raising his brows at Taemin curiously. “Well that came out of nowhere.”

“I know, I know.” laughed Taemin good-naturedly, though practically sweating on the inside. “But c’mon, isn’t that weird?”

“Hypothetically speaking, they probably just wanted to kiss you without getting embarrassed or rejected because of it. Who did you kiss, Taemin?”

Colour shot to Taemin’s cheeks and ears, shaking his head desperately and waving his hands before his face. “I said theoretically, you moron! I didn’t kiss anyone.”

A sharp slap came to the back of his head, eliciting Taemin to yelp in surprise. “What the ! Are you mental?!”

“Are you? Do you think I’m ing stupid? Who wanted to kiss you, Taemin? Because I swear to God, if they maimed you in any way whatsoever, I will stick their head in the doorframe and slam it shut on their neck.”

Taemin shuffled back in fear. “As if I’m telling you now! You’ll bloody kill him!”

Jaw dropping in an unflattering manner, Kibum struggled to form a coherent sentence. “H-Him?!” he screeched. “It wasn’t…Tell me…Not Kai…Please.”

The younger of the two sat in stunned silence, not knowing quite what to respond with. But apparently, silence was the wrong answer, the lack of response in Kibum’s vocabulary apparently being synonymous to ‘yes, it’s Kai.’

“That motherer…” Kibum seethed. “After all he did to you. Why would you even consent to kiss someone like that?! Excuse me while I go and murder him, Taem.”

“No, no, no! Stop standing up, you idiot.” Taemin called as Kibum stood to brush off his jeans. But Kibum was having none of it, looking off towards the courtyard where he was certain to spot Taemin’s old friend. Taemin watched in horror as Kibum’s eyes lit up and an almost sadistic smile etched upon his face, feet already moving towards the oval fence.

Panicking, Taemin looked towards the soccer players, sighing in relief when he realised that none of them were paying attention to his and Kibum’s little argument. He figured that nothing else would get the stubborn Kibum to come back, so bracing himself for an onslaught of questions, Taemin called out just loud enough for his fellow dancer to hear. “It wasn’t Kai! Kibum, wait! It was Minho!”

And just like that, Kibum was pausing in his tracks like a deer caught in headlights, slowly turning his head to study Taemin with wide eyes. He gestured to Minho with his head in question as though clarifying it was that Minho he was referring to, and upon Taemin’s sheepish nod, Kibum was practically running back to their spot beneath the tree. “Are you serious, Taemin?!” he exclaimed in a hushed whisper, a mixture of excitement and concern seeping into his tone.

“Do you really think I’d make this up?! It happened last Sunday…And I would have told you before now but it’s all a bit confusing, to be honest. But now that you know who it is…it’s obvious that your reason is wrong.”

Kibum rolled his eyes at Taemin’s naivety. “Ah, Taemin. You pure, pure little boy. The fact that it’s Minho doesn’t change anything! Why else would he suggest that you kiss, huh? He could’ve gone and kissed anybody…Literally, anybody. But he kissed you, Taem. And now he’s not talking to you because he probably thinks that you hated it.”

“Nope…He knows I didn’t hate it.” Taemin groaned, collapsing against the ground in embarrassment. “I practically—moaned! And as soon as I did he was out of there like The Flash, Kibum. If anyone hated it, it was him! I ruined everything, to be honest.”

With a disappointed sigh, Kibum shrugged his shoulders. “I mean…he could be embarrassed for you. But that’s awfully pessimistic, so just forget I said that. I reckon you should just go and talk to him, Taem. Confront him about the kiss. If you want your friendship to go back to normal, then it’s what needs to be done.”

Taemin hummed impartially, glazed eyes watching as the man in question scored a fairly difficult goal. “We’ll see.”

“Ugh, stop being all sad about it. You’re putting a damper on my already damp mood. Instead of worrying about how he feels now, just focus on the actual kiss. You actually got to kiss him, Taemin! So now you gotta spill, m’kay? C’mon, how was it?!”

Kibum’s optimistic pestering impelled a small, ecstatic smile to grow on Taemin’s face, and it was clear to see just how smitten he was by his best friend. “Alright well this is what happened…”

Eventually the school day had come to an uneventful end, a tired yet genuine grin of relief colouring Minho’s face as he made his way towards the student carpark. He spun his keys around his forefinger in boredom, and upon noticing Taemin waiting under his usual shady tree, quickened his pace. He was so preoccupied with the blush residing on his face and the desire to avoid the younger male, that Minho barely even noticed Amber making her way up to him with a confident stroll, jumping in shock as she appeared beside him.

“How’s it goin’, Minho?” the tomboy spoke radiantly, giving Minho a friendly nudge in the ribs. “Sorry for giving you a scare.”

“Oh yeah, y’know…the usual. About to head home. What’s up?” Minho responded, all of a sudden feeling awfully uncomfortable in Amber’s presence.

She smiled and scratched the back of neck blushingly. “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to hang out on Sunday or something…if you want to?”

Flustered, Minho could merely stare openly at Amber in astonishment. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. And with barely any exertion of effort whatsoever it was being passed over to him on a silver platter. A week ago, Minho would have been giving the enthusiastic response of ‘sure!’ within just a few seconds – no doubt about it. But now, as he reflected on his feelings and what he wanted to say in response, the only thing that Minho’s mind could provide him with was the recollection of how Taemin’s lips felt against his; the heat which had pooled to his stomach upon hearing the younger boy’s contended sighs. Minho tried to snap out of it. Tried to remember that short-lived kiss he’d experienced with Amber just weeks ago. But alas, came up with nothing – the insignificant memory having already been pushed to the very corners of his mind.

So it came as a surprise to even Minho himself when without a second thought, he heard his mouth spout of some jargon about how he was sorry because already had plans for that Sunday. Amber grinned good-naturedly, like she always did, and took off happily without another complaint.

Minho didn’t have any plans that Sunday. In fact, Minho didn’t have any plans for the entire weekend, nor the ones following. Yet nevertheless, after having the option presented to him, Minho found that despite how nice it had seemed at the time to date someone like Amber, he actually didn’t want to at all. Instead, all Minho could think about was Taemin - his best friend, his escape, and as it now appeared, the boy of his affections.