Taemin stood at the center, nodding his head to the familiar rhythm of Tell Me What to Do as their voices resounded through the practice room. Fitting that the choreographer would lead his own complicated routine. Minho was just grateful that this time around their practice didn’t involve the scarves. Taemin sang to the mirror, cocking his head to the side, his black fringe falling over his eyes as he experimented with his facial expression. He rocked back and forth on his feet, jerking his hips as his right hand glided down his chest. The hand movement was subtle but skillful, something a practiced hand would do.

It took one side-glance at Jonghyun to remind him that last night, Taemin’s practiced hand could have been applied elsewhere. The thought nagged at him as he tried focusing on his steps and the rhythm of the song.  Then came the time to arch backwards and catch each other as Jinki sang through the middle. He was so distracted that he leaned back too far and his grip was too short to reach Jonghyun, causing them both to fall to the floor. Jonghyun yelped as his back hit the hardwood floor and the music stopped. Kibum huffed and stomped over to Minho, kicking him in his side. Taemin covered his mouth with the back of his hand and snickered.

Though they would have to start again, and he would probably hear an earful about his mishap later; he was simply relieved to see that smile on Taemin’s face. A smile that set his heart at ease and brought boundless joy on some of his lowest days. Jonghyun was wailing, sounding far more dramatic than necessary because apparently Minho tried to kill me!

If he were to be honest with himself, that statement wouldn’t be far from the truth. Especially after what he witnessed the night before.    

…

Minho has three levels of drunkenness, and when the incident occurred he was well pass the third.

At the first, he’s a very happy drunk. Beer no longer tasted like mulch, leaving him only with acidic bubbles dancing on his tongue and alcohol warming his system. When his insecurities and the pressure of being an entertainer slipped away. When all baskets, hurtles and goals were within his grasp. When the touch of a friend was twice as comforting.

That’s why he felt that warm fuzzy feeling when Taemin leaned over and rested his head on his shoulder, happy and full after finishing his meal. Minho sighed, letting the heaviness settle as his shoulders relaxed and slumped. It reminded him of cold nights in winter, huddled beneath a cozy duvet while playing a video game on the couch. Hot days in summer, their backs against a wall-to-wall mirror, leaning into one another for support, quietly promising Taemin ice cream sundaes if they managed to survive practice.    

 Taemin belched and quickly covered his mouth, laughing at the disgust on Kibum’s face. Jinki was across from him, his face pure bliss as he took his time finishing the greasy chicken entree on his plate.

 “Ugh.” Key gagged. “I can smell it from over here.”

“Sorry.” He apologized, not really meaning it since it was just the five of them and their manager hyungs.

Taemin laughed harder when Key crinkled his nose and fanned in front of him, pretending to ward off a smell that didn’t exist. His laugh was giddy and boyish, and his hand moved from his mouth to slap Minho’s shoulder as he sat up to breathe. Jinki nearly choked on his chicken and the whole room erupted with laughter as Key weakly patted his back.

“That wasn’t funny,” choked Jinki.

“I told you Hyung,” Jonghyun chimed in, who was sitting on the opposite side of Taemin. “Chicken will be the death of you.”

“I think he’d die happy.” Key added. In spite of his protest, Jinki was laughing too once the room became an uproar of jokes about the tragic love story of him and chicken.

Minho glanced to his right, noticing the lack of warmth as Taemin leaned away from him and into Jonghyun. Jonghyun grinned slyly as he casually slung an arm over their maknae’s shoulders. His hand snuck its way to the back of Taemin’s neck, fingers curling around the tips of his dark hair. The action wasn’t new, nor was the lax way Taemin easily allowed it. It was nothing more than friendly touches that all the members shared constantly. Never mind how Jonghyun’s lips ghosted over the nape of Taemin’s neck as he leaned in to whisper something inaudible in his ear. Or how his nose hovered over the skin as he inhaled Taemin’s scent.

It was innocent, between friends, and none of his business. Yet the tension between them seemed separate from the carefree atmosphere hanging about the room. Minho turned away, his mind racing as he peered around at everyone else. He was the only one who seemed to notice. The only one to give a damn more than he probably should. But he did and that compelled him to pick up another can of beer, crack it open and down the crisp booze with three large gulps.    

Taemin giggled and playfully pushed Jonghyun away.

“Taemin-ah, I’m hurt,” Jonghyun pouted dramatically with both hands over his heart.

“Whatever;” Taemin replied nonchalantly, waving a dismissive hand at him.

“Maybe I can change your mind later,” Jonghyun offered.

“Maybe, maybe not,” teased Taemin.

Minho took another swig of his drink, wishing he couldn’t hear their banter. Taemin playfully shoved Jonghyun again, cackling as he knocked into the manager behind him. Taemin chuckled as he watched him apologize, ignoring his responsibility in it while seeking out Minho’s side for comfort again. Minho clutched his beer so it didn’t fall and gawked down at him. Taemin tilted his head to the right, staring back at him owlishly.

“Something wrong?”

“Ah, uh,” Minho hesitated, hurriedly setting his drink down and lifting his arm over the back of the booth, making the space against his side available. “No, nothing. I’m good.”

Taemin just shrugged, smiling happily as he leaned back into the warmth. Minho sighed and looked up at the ceiling, content with feeling him close again. Away from Jonghyun and the implication of his touches. Away from his own suspicions. Maybe that’s all that it was, pure paranoia. He settled on that theory, closing his eyes and relaxing as he pushing his racing thoughts to the back of his mind.

…

By stage two, Minho was a one-man party, ready to blast through the night until that final round of drinks was ready to take him out. He was wide awake and beyond excitable, using his chopsticks as a microphone even though an extra one was available for use. He shook his hips as he sang along with Jinki. Colorful spots speckled the dim karaoke room as the group laughed and rocked to the familiar Psy tune, the excitement building as the song neared its chorus. Old man Jinki and hype man Minho pumped their fists in the air, egging on their audience as they shouted the lyrics. Soon, the entire room was shouting the familiar lyrics in unison:

“I’m a Mother-Father-Gentleman!!!”

One by one, they all got out of their seats and made good use of the dance floor, bodies swaying beneath the colorful disco ball. Minho spotted Taemin, doing some awkward shuffle with his arms raised over his head. It didn’t miss his attention that Jonghyun swerved his way through the crowd, pairing up with him before anyone else could. Jonghyun turned around, rocking his hips and backing into Taemin. Taemin took notice, chuckling as he settled his hands on his hips, rocking with him.

Jinki was immersed in the music, playing the fitting role of the older rapper leading a hype young crowd. Minho’s hype was diminished some by the sight of the two members grooving together. That seemed to him like far more than what it should be. It could be the booze, warming his blood and making the room feel as if it was leaning on a tip. Or it could be some sort of animalistic intuition, that was yelling at him to pry the wily Kim Jonghyun away from innocent Lee Taemin.

Minho decided not to second guess his gut feeling, even though his guts were a mess of alcohol and fatty foods and was probably not very trustworthy. He belched and started walking, bobbing his head and waving his arms to the music, an attempt to mask his covert mission to save Taemin. It was Kibum’s turn at the mic, and he was quick to tell Jinki to sit down before he breaks his back. The artist he chose was no surprise to anyone: Lady GaGa. Now it was his voice echoing throughout the room as an electronic beat bumped through the speakers.

The group continued to party but the pair had stopped dancing. Jonghyun was whispering something to him. Taemin just listened, and complied when Jonghyun grabbed his hand and led him away from the dancefloor. Minho panicked, pushing through the group of dancing bodies as the two left the room, hurrying after them into the hallway. 

Where the hell did they go? He thought angrily.

Minho checked the room where everyone’s belongings were and found nothing. They weren’t in the men’s room either. In a last-ditch effort, he went out to the parking lot and found them walking away from the van, laughing amongst themselves as they approached the building. Minho stashed himself in a dark corner of the lot and watched them enter the building. Defeated, he slumped down to the ground and held his aching head.

Maybe he wasn’t being completely honest with himself. He was probably already at stage three of his drunkenness. Where time was incomprehensible and nothing was ever what it seemed. There was an incident at the dorm once, when he thought he was playing a video game for only a half hour. The next day, Taemin came to their recording with red eyes, complaining that he wouldn’t let him sleep all night because he was drunk and couldn’t accept a loss.  

So, maybe he drank some really strong Tequila instead of just soju bombs. Maybe they didn’t flash-step to the lot and but he was just too slow to catch up to them. And maybe they’d already done whatever they intended in the van before he arrived. Maybe he was too late.  

He lamented over the thought for a good five minutes before dragging himself back inside, which seemed much harder to do now that he had no enthusiasm. Everyone was still partying when he returned, and it saddened him a bit that none of them seemed phased by his absence. He slumped onto the sofa and eyed the drinks on the table. He gagged at the thought of consuming more. Then a familiar person sat beside him, compelling him to change his mind.

“What happened to you?” snorted Jonghyun, seemingly amused by his low energy. “You were the life of the party a few moments ago.”

Minho took two shots of a liquor whose bottle he couldn’t read.

“I lost my funk,” he replied dryly.

“Or you drank too much,” suggested Jonghyun. “we’ve got practice later in the day. You could probably handle a morning hangover, but if you get one that lasts until the evening then you’ve got bigger problems.”

Minho ignored his advice and took another shot, slamming the tiny glass onto the table once it was emptied. When he looked at Jonghyun, his face was blurry and he couldn’t focus well on his features, so he couldn’t make out his expression once he was brave enough to ask the question that had been festering in his mind all night.

“Hyung, do you like Taemin?”

It was silent for a moment. Minho’s nerves were running overtime as he sat there without a response. He wished he could say it was relieving when he finally got one, but that would be a lie.

“Of course, I like Taemin. Don’t we all?”

“That’s not,” Minho huffed. “that’s not what I mean. I mean like, you know, like-like.”

Damn. He really shouldn’t have drunk more. He sounded like a blubbering teenager drunk-confessing to a crush. There was no recovering from that stupidity, so he simply moved on.

“Do you like him more than the rest of us like him?”

“Uhm, duh, number one Taemint here.” Jonghyun replied shamelessly, probably wearing some dumb grin on his face.

“Ugh, never mind,” Minho surrendered with a groan. He wasn’t going to get anywhere this way. He was too wasted to get his together, so he probably shouldn’t have even tried.

“Drink responsibly.” Jonghyun warned before getting up, leaving Minho feeling defeated.

He must have sat there in a stupor for the rest of the party, because the next thing he knew they were all headed to their respective vehicles. He didn’t remember putting on his hoodie, or it being so cold outside, but the van felt cozy, up until he remembered what he saw earlier. Now, it felt weird that they were all piling into it as if it hadn’t been defiled. He felt disgusted suddenly, or maybe it was from the van jerking forward as it pulled out of the lot.   

Minho leaned against the window, the cool glass easing his throbbing head. It was mostly quiet, with only the sound of the motor and snoring filling the dark space as they rocked along the highway. He was still for a while and for the first time all night thought he had a moment of peace, until he heard shuffling behind him. 

“Please touch me, just a little,” desperately pleaded one voice in a hushed tone.

“Sh,” hushed the other. “You’ll wake someone up.”

“No, I won’t.” The first argued. “Come on, I’m already like this. Can’t you help me out? I’m aching here and it’s all your fault.”

“Alright.” They surrendered. “Always so needy, Jonghyunnie.”

“Mm. You know what that name does to me.”

“Yeah. Now, shut up.”

Minho’s stomach turned, assuming that the other voice belonged to Taemin. He could hear them kissing and clothes ruffling. Their lips separated with a smack but he could still hear kissing. A sudden whimper made him jump, but was muffled soon after by either a hand or lips. He heard more broken moans until the blood rushing to his head thrummed in his ears. That couldn’t be Taemin doing those things with Jonghyun, shamelessly indulging him in the back seat of their van. He felt sick, and the feeling only got worse every time the vehicle jolted at a red light.

 It felt like an eternity until they arrived at the dorm, and he was the first out of the van. He barely got his keycard out and fumbled to glide it through the door. When the door opened he dashed straight to the bathroom, immediately throwing himself at the toilet. It felt like everything came out of him at once. All the liquor he drank. All the food he ate in-between. And all the disgust and malice he felt towards Jonghyun. He wanted to grip him up and beat the life out of him, but the only thing his body allowed him to do was throw up and blackout. His anger would have to come later when he was awake and aware, that is, if he would even remember.

….

The last thing Minho could actually recall was Jonghyun and Taemin on the dancefloor and an overwhelming feeling of disgust. It felt like he was forgetting something significant, yet he had a strong feeling that it was better left forgotten. He knew for sure that hated Jonghyun’s face and was happy to see him hit the floor.

“Get your together Minho,” scolded Key with his hands on his hips. Taemin jumped when he turned his glare onto him. “And you, it’s your dance he’s screwing up. Shouldn’t you be more professional about this!”

“Sorry Hyung,” he apologized, still laughing. “It was funny though. Won’t happen again.”

He glared at Minho again.

“It better not.”

Jinki helped Jonghyun off the floor, asking him if he was okay and even checking for injury. Always the caring leader.

 “Are you sure?” Jinki asked again, still a little concerned. He decided not to scold Minho for his mishap. He’d gotten enough flack from Kibum, and surely wouldn’t hear the end of it until practice was over. 

“I’m fine. Thanks, Hyung.” Jonghyun replied with a warm smile.

Jinki surrendered with a smile of his own, gently patting his shoulder before leaving him to go grab his water bottle. Jonghyun turned to Minho and shook his head.

“This is exactly why I warned you not to drink so much last night.”

That’s right. He did warn him. That was right before…

Memories of last night hit him like a freight train and in a startling realization he remembered exactly why he wanted Jonghyun to taste the ground. Dumbfounded and angry, he pointed an accusing finger at him and spoke without thinking.

“You! You ed Taemin!”

“He what?” Key stammered.

“I what?” echoed Jonghyun.

“I got ed by who?” Taemin chimed in cluelessly.

The four exchanged shocked glances and Jinki could be heard choking on his water. There were still others in the studio who were part of the dance practice. In a panic, Key laughed awkwardly.

“Yea, Jonghyun, how could you do him dirty in that game we played yesterday. You really did him.”

Minho was still too outraged to get the hint.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“We should discuss those rules so this doesn’t happen again.” Key suggested through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to punch him square in the nose. Jinki probably saved his life by grabbing his hand and pulling him aside when Key stormed pass and almost through him. They followed him into an empty conference room and shut the door behind them.

 “Can we, maybe, kept our lives in the dorm where they belong.” Jinki suggested, deflating into a comfortable office chair.

“Yes, let’s.” Key agreed rubbing his temples.

“Oh, we should keep it in the dorm. Nice suggestion Hyung,” Minho mocked scornfully. “Except in this case; it happened in the back of the van!”

Key choked and Jonghyun groaned miserably. Taemin was all giggles and that angered Minho even more.

“How could you laugh at all of this? Do you even know what you’re doing? And with your Hyung of all people!”

Taemin threw his hands up, snickering.

“I swear Hyung, it wasn’t me.” Taemin explained. “Besides, I don’t get ed. I do the ing.”

“That’s not the point” he scolded. “You guys were dancing last night and even came out the van together at some point.”

“We always dance together,” he shrugged. “I dance with everyone. It’s kind of what I do? And I lost my phone, again, and Jonghyun-hyung helped me find it. Of course, he teased me about it afterwards, but still. That’s all it was.”

Minho looked to Jinki for help and he sadly shook his head. It was only then that Minho realized how quiet Key had gotten after mentioning the van. He slowly turned to him in shock.

“Don’t tell me…”

Jonghyun’s face was beat red and he tried ducking his head to hide it.

“I told you to keep it down.” Spat Key, side-eyeing him.

“Couldn’t help it.” Jonghyun pouted.

Jinki cleared his throat and they all faced him, alert and obedient.

“In the dorm,” he emphasized sternly. Even Key was subdued now, having no excuse for what had happened.

“Yes Hyung,” they all agreed, except for Minho who was stunned silent.

Jonghyun was the first to scurry out of the room, followed by Jinki who gave him a good whack on the back of his head. Key gave him an apologetic smile before following suit, leaving him alone with Taemin.

Minho collapsed into the closest chair and held his head in his hands. They needed to get back to practice, but he had a migraine. Giving him just a brief moment to get himself together wouldn’t hurt.

Of course, even that was deterred by a snort, and he looked up to realize that Taemin was still in the room. When Minho glanced at him, he was still trying, (and failing), at stifling his laughs behind his hand. Minho’s humor must have left with all his good senses seeing as he found nothing about this situation comical. But sometimes Taemin was a little , and little s always found things funny. He was still glowering at his dongsaeng by the time he came over to him.

Taemin sighed his laughter away and kept a smile, patting Minho twice on the back.

 “Look on the bright side,” he started innocently, as if he wasn’t bemused by his shock just moments ago. “At least the rumors you just started about me and Jonghyun will distract people from finding out about Kibummie and Jonghyun.”

“That’s…not funny Taemin,” Minho deadpanned as he buried his face back in his hands.

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

Taemin’s eyes darkened and a sly grin crept across his face. Minho couldn’t see the change, but his prolonged silence changed the room’s atmosphere completely sent chills down his spine. Taemin spread the hand that patted his back, sprawling out his delicate fingers and gliding them across his back. Minho slowly lifted his face as the hand dragged onto his shoulder, while resting the other on the opposite.

When Minho finally met his gaze, his grin widened.

Suddenly, his recollection of Taemin comfortably cradling into his hip last night seemed so far away, like a childhood memory long forgotten and just barely fading away. In that absent warmth was a hot, iron blade that Taemin held pressing into his skin, its heated point searing and striking him in ways he never dared to dream of.

And, perhaps, that was the very source of his rage. Pure bewilderment and denial. If Jonghyun had gotten to Taemin, it would have been a nightmare, simply because that would mean that he hadn’t.

As if reading his mind, Taemin leaned in close. A stuttering mess of words fell from Minho’s lips as he tried halting him, and his heart was caught in his throat when all Taemin did was lean his forward into his.

“Don’t worry, Hyung, I know we have practice right now,” he said in a hushed tone that seemed unnecessarily y to him as the warmth of his breath fanned his face. This time when he chuckled it was completely devilish, full of amusement and satisfaction, sinful in the way it echoed through Minho’s entire body.

“I’m not nearly as desperate or reckless as those other two. We won’t be discovered,” Taemin assured him with confidence as he pulled away and sauntered towards the door. “Oh, and, Hyung.”

Minho had enough surprises in his last two days than he had in his entire life, and now he had a gut feeling that just looking at Taemin would give him a heart attack someday. So, when he finally dared to peer in his direction, he wasn’t surprised when his heart stuttered out of rhythm as Taemin flashed his most innocent smile. Then, with the duality speaking, emphasizing each word with a cute little sing-song pronunciation at the end:

“Remember: in the dorm.”

With that, Taemin slithered out of the room, leaving the door ajar as the others called out looking for them to rejoin their rehearsals. Minho cursed into the air and got up to head back to the practice room. He’d have to apologize properly to Jonghyun, but if instead he opted to let him drop out of spite, he wouldn’t blame him. But if Minho ended up on the floor because of Taemin, well, that would be an entirely different story.

END

A/N: This was meant to be platonic, but my brain was stubborn lol. Ironic, since I rarely or never write these ships. It was just too funny though so I couldn't help it XD. Hope you got a good kick out of it. Thank you for reading. ^^