A/N: first of all - i have never been more sorry in my life. i know this took months, and i don't really have any excuse. i've just been really stressed with school and unmotivated, but don't worry! i've got another chapter after this to upload and i've started writing the last two. please enjoy, and don't hate me <3

“Where are we going, Minho?” laughed Taemin happily, perfectly content to be dragged from place to place by his boyfriend.

Minho beamed, practically skipping across to his car on the other side. “On our first date!” he sang. “I wanna take you someplace nice.”

Usually the type to act tough when presented with anything sentimental, Taemin had seemingly morphed into a completely new person, blushing brightly at even Minho’s smallest displays of affection. School had finished for the day and everyone, in their pursuit to hurry home, had already cleared out. “It’s a school night…” he hummed, though no signs of disappointment were evident. Taemin shrugged at his own comment. “Oh well!”

Pausing, Minho regarded Taemin worriedly. “You sure your parents won’t care?”

“No, no, no,” waved Taemin assuredly, snatching Minho’s keys and unlocking the car with glee. “They won’t mind at all.”

Minho rolled his eyes fondly and slipped into the driver’s seat. “If you say so, Taem.”

The car started up and Minho pulled out onto the road smoothly, making sure that Taemin had clipped his seatbelt in before speeding off.

“But seriously, where are we going?” spoke Taemin again after a few moments of silence, watching out the window as they headed away from the city centre.

Reaching one arm over, Minho clasped his hand together with Taemin’s. “It’s a surprise.” he teased playfully, shooting the younger a quick, adoring glance.

An hour into the drive, Taemin had already managed to fall asleep, head lolling to the side as his quiet breaths filled the air. Minho smiled serenely, hoping that he would remain asleep until they reached their destination. He had thought long and hard about where to take the younger, and eventually decided that for a first date, this would be the best option.

Only fifteen minutes remained, and when the two finally came to the top of the hill Minho had driven them too, the taller boy let out a whistle of appreciation. He was careful as to not wake Taemin while he worked, reaching into the trunk of the car for his blanket and picnic basket. Due to the time of the day, the sun was already beginning to set, the vague outline of the moon making itself known through the speckle of white clouds.

Taemin was beginning to stir just as Minho finished setting up, patting the blanket down one last time in reassurance that everything would be perfect. A slight wind ruffled his hair, and Minho barely contained the shiver which ran down his spine. Rubbing his eyes, Taemin looked up at Minho through the windscreen and smiled widely, jumping out of the car in tired excitement.

“How did you…What is—,”

“It’s pretty, right?”

Taemin snorted. “Never thought I’d hear the word ‘pretty’ falling from your mouth.”

Minho gave Taemin a gentle nudge. “Shut up, I’m trying to be sentimental. But yeah…Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it,” Taemin rolled his eyes before taking a seat on the picnic rug. “Come and sit down.”

Joining the younger, Minho spread the food around the blanket and took a sandwich off the platter. Taemin followed suit, and for around ten minutes or so the two teenage boys spent the time stuffing their faces with fruit, sandwiches, cake and beverages. Looking at Minho mischievously, Taemin grabbed a grape from a plate and gestured to Minho’s mouth. “Try and catch it,” he smirked.

Although he rolled his eyes, Minho obliged without complaint and shuffled back a bit. The first grape bounced off his teeth and onto the grass, but before he could complain about it Taemin was at the ready with a second. This one too, bounced off his face and rolled pathetically along the blanket.

“C’mon Taemin, we’re wasting them.”

Taemin tutted indignantly, before offering with a wide grin. “If you catch one, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Immediately, Minho’s facial expression changed and he gestured for Taemin to hurry up and throw one. “Well then, what are you waiting for?”

An unattractive snort emitted from Taemin, and without hesitation he threw the third grape. Minho dove desperately, yet nonetheless ended up groaning in annoyance as it wacked him on his chin. “How am I meant to catch one if you’re throwing them that hard?”

Taemin offered no response. Instead, when Minho looked up, he rolled around hysterically with phone in hand. “W-Why…You look so desperate,” he cackled loudly.

“No...” whinged Minho, reaching forward to pluck Taemin’s phone from him. “That’s so embarrassing!”

Rolling out of the way, Taemin couldn’t contain the squeal which escaped his mouth as Minho lunged at him and trapped him against the grass below. Taemin beamed up at Minho’s red face, popping a grape in the older boy’s mouth as he moved to say something.

“Oh! You caught it!” exclaimed Taemin excitedly, and Minho didn’t even have time to process what had happened before a pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Minho squeaked in shock before sinking into the embrace, and reciprocated almost immediately. The two spent a while simply laughing and mucking around on the grass, before soon, it became too difficult to see where they even were under the sunless sky.

Relaxing on the rug side by side, Minho and Taemin looked up at the vast array of stars beyond them. They had opted to lay down, and suddenly affected by the cold, strong winds that blew from every direction, Taemin s his hand down to entwine it with Minho’s.

Minho grinned giddily, and gave Taemin’s hand a tight squeeze.

“Hey, Minho?” Taemin spoke gently, as though he was afraid to break the calm silence surrounding them.

“Mm?”

Taemin hesitated for a few seconds. “Have you told anyone yet?”

He was met with silence, and Taemin briefly considered that Minho hadn’t heard him. But as he went to repeat the question, Minho finally spoke.

“Not yet.” he replied. “But I will.”

“Me too.” spoke the dancer, reassured. “I’m not scared or anything…But I am, at the same time. If that makes any sense.”

Minho laughed breathily. “Not really.”

Sighing, Taemin went on to elaborate. “I’m not scared that they’ll judge me, or the fact that it’s you I’m dating rather than a girl, but…To say it aloud and make a deal out of it makes it seem a lot more daunting. Because then it becomes awkward and…yeah, I don’t know.”

“I getcha, don’t worry.” Minho spoke, turning his head to kiss Taemin softly on the cheek. “Then we just won’t ‘tell’ them. Maybe next time I come over, we’ll casually just hold hands or something like that. Or maybe drop some hints so they’ll ask you instead.”

Taemin grinned widely, a light blush tingeing his cheeks. “You always have the best ideas.”

“Don’t I?”

Minho yelped as Taemin slapped his leg not-so-lightly, and turned his head to see an evil smirk upon his boyfriend’s face.

“Don’t be cocky,” Taemin tutted, and rolled his eyes at the faux look of hurt imprinted on Minho’s face. He leant forward for a kiss, and all of a sudden, the brief animosity between them was gone.

Jonghyun was fairly certain he hadn’t left his room in four whole days other than to go to the toilet, and even then, it was for a mere minute at a time. His bed had become his safe haven – hiding from nothing but his own fears and guilt. Cursing his fragility, Jonghyun cocooned himself within his blankets and stared at the door with forlorn.

His stomach growled in anger, but with the air conditioner on and his blankets draped over him leisurely, he would’ve much rather continued to indulge in luxury than leave his room for some mere food. The guilt that he felt after the whole ordeal with Kibum was stifling, even more so because he knew that he couldn’t even do anything about it. Kibum was trapped in a house with an abusive father, and deep down, Jonghyun knew that it was partially his fault.

If he had only controlled his emotions for once in his life and stayed out of Kibum’s business when he was asked, then would Kibum’s father still treat him so terribly? Sure, he wasn’t the reason Kibum was gay – the younger had stated that he had always known he was, after all. But if Jonghyun hadn’t appeared in Kibum’s life, flirted with him, and taken their relationship to the next level, then perhaps Kibum’s father wouldn’t have had an excuse to take action.

Kibum’s words rang loudly in his head.

“It’s your fault.”

“Everything was fine before you got here. My dad was fine before you got here!”

“Being with you is so hard.”

Jonghyun felt he was the cause, yet nonetheless, was too selfish to ever think of leaving Kibum. Because Kibum’s life wasn’t the only one who had changed upon the beginning of their relationship. Jonghyun’s had too. Before, he was writing songs pointlessly day on end, flittering in and out of a depression which left him consistently powerless and without motivation. Kibum had ended that. Now, Jonghyun had a reason to get out of bed every day. He had a reason to write songs, and he had something to strive towards.

So despite his fear of Kibum’s father, and the utter guilt which infected every bone in his body, Jonghyun could never give him up. It was that thought that left him stuck in his room for days on end, staring at the roof with a blank gaze and sleeping for an amount unnatural to most humans.

Jonghyun was, to put it simply, afraid of rejection. He wanted to apologize to Kibum, yet at the same time, didn’t want Kibum to see his faults. Like his own father had done to his mother, Jonghyun was afraid that Kibum would eventually realise that he wasn’t all that great, and leave him for someone else who didn’t cause him this much trouble.

It was an endless game of cat and mouse, one that Jonghyun was only knocked out of by a loud knock on his bedroom door.

“Jonghyun, honey?” came the concerned voice of his mother.

Jonghyun grumbled in response.

“Honey…do you need to talk to me about something? Did something happen with Kibum? Or maybe Jinki?”

“I’m okay, mum. J-Just…what day is it? My phone went flat.”

He could hear his mother sigh from the other side of the door, and flushed rouge. He hated his mother seeing him like this, but despite the shame, he simply couldn’t will himself out of it. “It’s Tuesday, Jonghyun. It’s been a week. Roo wants to see you.”

Abruptly, Jonghyun sat up straight and stared at the door in astonishment. A week had already passed? A week of him snacking on packets of chips and chocolate which he kept under his bed and drinking water from the bathroom sink.

He briefly considered what he had planned for the week and cursed aloud when he remembered that tomorrow was Wednesday. The day that Kibum’s mother had told him was parent teacher interviews. The day he could finally see Kibum again and apologize. The fear and guilt lingered, but Kibum’s wellbeing resonated at the forefront of his mind in spite of his other foreboding thoughts. Pushing his blankets down to his ankles, Jonghyun called through the door. “I’ll be out in half an hour.”

Jumping a few times to assure that his precariously balanced camera wouldn’t fall when dancing, Kibum grinned when it remained steady and moved to turn on the speakers. The past few weeks had got him thinking about his future, and while pursuing law or something similar was probably more practical and expectant of him, what Jonghyun and he had talked about so many months ago still resonated in his mind. University would provide him with a degree – that was certain. But it would do the same for so many others. Why pursue something that he has no interest in whatsoever to please those around him, when he could finally do what he wants for once and achieve his dream?

That’s why Kibum had decided he was going to apply for Korea National University of Arts. Many people already knew how much he enjoyed dance, so it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise. Yes, it was university. And he could still obtain a degree. But he could focus solely on his dancing while he was doing it, killing two birds with one stone. To Kibum, it was the perfect compromise, not that he was going to tell anyone bar his small group of friends and Jonghyun.

With the prospect of freedom in mind, Kibum pressed play on his chosen song and hurriedly ran back to the centre of the room, proceeding to dance like he had never danced before.

Wiping away the sweat upon his forehead, Kibum dropped onto the dance studio floor and breathed heavily. After dancing a few times over and looking over the recording, the video was finally done, and all that was left was for Kibum to send it, along with his application, to the university of his choice.  

Dread remained at the pit of his stomach at what tomorrow would bring – his parent teacher interviews. All the lies he had told up until now weighed on his shoulders, but all Kibum could do was pray that his parents would only ask about his grades and that the teacher would just go along with everything they said. Despite his optimism, a bad feeling remained in the back of his mind. A bad feeling that Kibum just couldn’t shake off.

Before he could contemplate it for much longer however, the door to the dance room opened, and in walked Taemin and Minho. Kibum smiled at them brightly and went to look back down at his phone before –

His head shot up quickly, studying the two boys before him. Kibum’s eyes had not been fooling him, because right there, clear as daylight, were Minho and Taemin holding hands as though they had been doing so their whole lives. Kibum coughed loudly, gesturing down at their entwined hands with a raised eyebrow as the two looked his way. Minho flushed brightly in embarrassment whilst Taemin beamed and lifted their hands higher for display. “We’re dating now,” he spoke bluntly, glancing up at Minho with admiration in his eyes.

Astonished at Taemin’s sudden bravery and confidence, Kibum could only thank you Minho inwardly at returning the younger boy’s feelings. He didn’t deserve to be rejected twice, and Kibum hoped that Kai was somewhere regretting the loss of a great friendship.

He cheered aloud at the revelation and congratulated the two, but both Minho and Taemin could see that there was a light missing in his eyes. “Is everything alright, Kibum?” asked Minho concernedly, thinking back to the suspicions he’d had about Kibum’s life outside of school.

Kibum blinked. “Of course it is.”

Sighing inwardly, Minho could only nod at Kibum’s response before he and Taemin took a seat on the floor beside him. “How about Jonghyun? I haven’t seen him in a while…”

Kibum visibly stiffened, attempting a casual shrug. “I don’t know, he’s probably fine.”

“Haven’t you been talking to him?” spoke up Taemin, discretely sharing a worried look with Minho.

“Not recently, no. And can you stop ing looking at each other like that? Jonghyun and I don’t need to spend every goddamn second of the day together to be happy.”

Overcome with guilt, Minho and Taemin softly apologized, though Kibum’s ears picked up on the low, “Sure seems like that from the way you’ve been acting recently,” which Minho muttered beneath his breath.

Choosing to ignore him, Kibum directed his attention to Taemin. “So how did you two get together, anyway?”

Taemin blushed. “I kinda just yelled at Minho for ignoring what had happened a few weeks ago, and then he confessed he didn’t dislike the kiss, and then um…yeah, you know how it is.”

Bouncing on his legs excitedly, Kibum sighed contentedly. “Who knew that so much would happen this year?”

Minho agreed wholeheartedly, but Taemin remained silent. Kibum regarded the youngest of the three with curiosity, before he finally spoke up.

“This year’s been great and all, but…I just don’t know what’s gonna happen next year when you both leave. I don’t have many friends here, if it wasn’t already obvious.”

The mood was all of a sudden dampened considerably, and Kibum looked at Taemin with empathy in his gaze. He knew all too well what it was like to go to school each day with no friends to sit with. Quite frankly, it was horrible. There was no will to get out of bed in the morning, no will to study hard. But Kibum said to Taemin the only thing that he felt was right. “Just keep coming to school, Taem. Things get better. It might take a while but… they do get better.”

Taemin nodded, albeit reluctantly, however was hurriedly comforted by Minho who wrapped an arm around Taemin’s shoulder and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll come visit you here every day,” he laughed warmly, rolling his eyes at the sly expression Kibum sent his way.

“Aren’t you two the cutest thing to ever bless this universe?”

Cheeks reddening, Taemin shied away from Minho’s embrace, though still remained comfortably situated within his arms. Minho simply laughed off Kibum’s comment, and instead moved to change the topic. “Are you going to parent teacher interviews tomorrow?”

With a loud grumble of annoyance, Kibum nodded. “Yeah, I have to. Are you?”

“Yep – Jinki and Luna wanna hear all about my grades and potential scholarships and whatnot… I’m not too pumped about it but hey, at least they don’t go for too long.”

Kibum mentally applauded Minho’s optimism, though it was safe to say that he did not harbour the same hope as his fellow third year.

Out of curiosity, Taemin reached forward to snatch Kibum’s camera from his grasp, however it was already too late. The school bell signalling the end of lunch time sounded loudly throughout the room, and Kibum jumped up hurriedly with a small poke of the tongue at Taemin. “As if I’m letting you see this, you little .”

Taemin stood up and smirked devilishly. “I knew it, it’s a ing o of you and Jonghyun.”

Minho burst into laughter at that, ruffling Taemin’s hair fondly upon gauging the expression on Kibum’s face.

“In your dreams, Taem. For your information, it’s just a dance I choreographed.”

Shoving Kibum playfully out of the dance room door and into the corridor, Taemin commented offhandedly. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say. Don’t worry, little Kibum, your secret’s safe with me.”

At that, Kibum could only roll his eyes, giving Taemin one last wave before Minho and he made their way back down to the third year classrooms.

The following evening brought Kibum and his parents back to his school for day that Kibum had been dreading for so long. He regarded the other students with slight jealousy clouding his eyes, watching as their parents patted their shoulder proudly and congratulated them on a year well done. His mother made polite conversation and commented on the school every now and then, however his father remained utterly silent and stoic, trailing behind with a harsh expression permanently printed onto his face.

Unsurprisingly, his family had shown up earlier than their designated time, and were left to merely wander around the third year building until they were called into Kibum’s classroom. Kibum expected to run into a few people he was acquainted with, but what he wasn’t expecting was to see Minho, Jinki and Luna making their way up to his family, all with equally wide and carefree grins on their faces.

“Hey, Kibum!” Minho called across the hall upon spotting the other boy.

Kibum beamed and gestured Minho over, though it was obvious to see that the family’s joyous demeanour wavered upon meeting Kibum’s father’s dark stare.

Jinki stiffened as he regarded the burly man – this was surely Kibum’s father. Though some of their features appeared very similar, Kibum’s youthful and caring nature juxtaposed with his father’s unforgiving one made it obvious that the two males were complete opposites. Jinki recalled Minho’s concerns about possible abuse, and felt his own eyes narrow to a glare in caution.

Pushing his prejudice and doubts aside, Jinki stepped forward with a kind smile and offered his hand for a shake. “Hi, I’m Jinki! Nice to mee—“

“Aren’t you a little bit young to be a father?”

Jinki paused, shocked, and slowly retracted his hands. Never before in his life had he been greeted with something so blunt, and all of a sudden a piece of the puzzle concerning Kim Kibum found its way into the picture.  Kibum’s chatter with Minho came to an abrupt halt and he looked at his father with disbelief, ears flushing red in utmost humiliation. “I’m sorry, Jinki…” spoke Kibum softly, eyes apologetic.

“No, no. It’s fine.” Jinki reassured brightly, before redirecting his attention back to Kibum’s father. “Minho’s actually my brother. And this is my wife – Luna.”

Kibum’s mother smiled politely and offered a quiet, “Nice to meet you”, however his father remained silent, assessing the family for a few long seconds before finally harrumphing in acceptance. He offered no more words, nor any handshakes, leaving Jinki to stand there awkwardly on edge.

Giving one last wave to Kibum, Jinki took Luna’s hand and gestured for Minho to follow, pointing at an open classroom door to the right. “That’s us guys, c’mon.”

Kibum waved, yet his cheerful conduct immediately changed upon their departure. Words couldn’t describe how much Kibum loathed the man beside him. He was disgusted at his rudeness and treatment towards others, and never before had Kibum been so embarrassed to call that man his father.

Yet before he could think about it for too long, a door slightly up the hall opened and Kibum’s mother took another glance at the paper in her hands. “This is us,” she spoke, before the family of three promptly made their way towards the designated classroom.

Kibum wiped his sweaty hands against his jeans before greeting his teacher politely. “Hi, Miss. This is my mother and father.” Kibum gestured to his parents, swallowing thickly at the sudden icy atmosphere which shrouded the room.

“Hey, Kibum. Hi, Mr and Mrs Kim. Take a seat.”

Upon sitting across from the teacher, she took a pile of papers from her bag next to her and spread them over the table. “So, as you can see from this report card,” she pushed it closer to the family, “Kibum has been doing excellent in class. He’s averaging A’s and A pluses, though he’s got the occasional B plus in maths. His English is phenomenal, though, so I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”

Kibum’s father snatched the report card from the desk and studied it himself with a scrutinising stare. He grumbled something incoherent about the math grade, but Kibum ignored that to instead beam at the proud look upon his mother’s face.

“Now,” spoke his teacher again. “Final exams begin next week, so make sure Kibum continues to study hard – maybe boost that math mark a little bit. Kibum has written down that he is interested in studying law, but I also understand that Kibum wants to pursue dance or fashion design in the future so he doesn’t need to worry too much about it. Math isn’t the top priority.”

Yes, Kibum thought. Coming here was most definitely a mistake. His fists clenched the fabric of his pants and his blood ran cold at the teacher’s words, cursing the day he ever told her or anybody else about his interests and dreams for the future.

“He wants to pursue what?” questioned Kibum’s father slowly, though it was clear that he had heard the woman’s words perfectly.

“Um… dance?” she repeated unsurely, eyes flickering to gauge Kibum’s reaction.

Kibum ignored her gaze and instead chose to stare a hole in his lap, fearing the words which were definitely to come.

“Dance?” the man gritted out, teeth clenched in anger. “Boy, I thought you told me that was for the third year prom.”

The teacher sat dumbfounded, looking on confusedly. “Prom? What prom?”

Kibum wanted to cry. His father’s face was reddening in anger by the second, and Kibum could tell that it wouldn’t take much more for him to explode. He thought back to when he had told his father about the ‘prom’, and wanted to beat himself up for not thinking about it more carefully. The interview had only just begun, but already, Kibum’s intricate spiral of lies was being gradually unravelled and leaving all of his secrets in the bare open.

“We’re gonna have a little talk about this dancing later.” his father growled lowly, and Kibum’s mind shot back to the feeling of a large hand striking his face painfully. He visibly flinched.

“Um…Well…On another, more positive note, I suppose… Kibum’s made a lot of friends this year, which is great. I’ve seen him around school with Choi Minho and Lee Taemin, so I’m glad he’s found a nice group of friends.”

Kibum’s mother nodded, content, recalling that Jonghyun didn’t go to high school and praying that her husband wouldn’t pick up on the absence of his name. But the man was sharper than she took credit for, and the woman could only glance at Kibum with worry clouding her vision.

“And what about this Jonghyun I keep hearing of?” Kibum’s father practically spat Jonghyun’s name out. “In Kibum’s history class. Hasn’t been trying any funny business on my son, I hope.”

The teacher sat anxiously, scouring her mind for any student in Kibum’s history class who was possible named ‘Jonghyun’. It came back blank, and although she wanted to protect her student from the terrifying man before her, she could help but speak honestly beneath the man’s ruthless glower.

“I… I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know who you’re talking about. That Jonghyun mustn’t go to this school.”