“Mom, stop, this is embarrassing! You’re embarrassing me and Kibum,” Jonghyun whines, struggling to release his arm from his mom’s deadly grip. Kibum just smiles cheekily beside him, holding a folder with the word ‘KU’ on it.

“But you and Kibum are gonna stay in the dorm here for—how long are you gonna stay here, again? Okay, whatever, the point is I’m just gonna be alone at home with your dad. It's not a very good thing, Jjong. And oh, my little boy is all grown up!” Jonghyun’s mom finally lets go of Jonghyun's arms, and wipes the nonexistent tears from her eyes. Jonghyun's face scrunches up in a not very pleased way, but his mom only chuckles and pulls Jonghyun and Kibum into a big hug.

“I’ll still call you and stuff, Mom, it’s not like I’m going to leave you forever and this is college, not kindergarten. You don’t have to me here,” Jonghyun continues.

“Let your mom be, Jonghyun, she’s having PMS right now.” Jonghyun’s dad interrupts, waving his hand in the air, making some weird gestures. Jonghyun blinks rapidly at his dad and shakes his head, but hugs his parents after that, anyways.

“Let’s take a picture first! Kibum, please get closer to Jonghyun—yeah like that, stay in that position!” Kibum snorts (and smiles) silently, crossing his arms over his chest and leans closer to Jonghyun until their sides are glued together. Jonghyun rolls his eyes in annoyance, yet he moves behind Kibum and wraps his arms around Kibum’s thin shoulders.

Jonghyun grins and presses his face onto the side of Kibum's neck, Kibum's sling bag dangling in the air between them. Kibum's eyes widen, but Jonghyun just hold him closer, smiling softly, and eventually, Kibum laughs, eyes turning into two little stripes, throwing his head back onto Jonghyun's shoulder, a hand covering his mouth. Right at this moment Jonghyun’s mom clicks the button on her neon green digital camera, and in a second Jonghyun’s thin pretty smile and Kibum’s cute laugh are stored in the memory card.

Jonghyun and Kibum both miss the knowing smile Jonghyun's parents have on their faces, and Jonghyun pulls away, regretting a little. Kibum punches him on the shoulder playfully, and despite his petite form, (all bones, no meat) Kibum’s punch is strong, so Jonghyun is sure that a bruise will form around that part or maybe it’ll just turn red.

But the best thing of being punched by Kibum is that Jonghyun is a good actor and he can act like the punch is too painful, and he will be wailing and whining all day, and then Kibum will start feeling bad, and then he will treat Jonghyun's bruise gently with some ointment, and then Jonghyun will be in a good mood for exactly two days.

“We’ll be going now, Jonghyun, Kibum. Goodbye and stay safe!” His parents hug them both again before waving and heading to their car.

“Can’t believe we’re college students now,” Kibum says, sighing.

“Yep, definitely. It feels like I was in elementary yesterday,” Jonghyun agrees, flexing his arms to the sides. Then Jonghyun stops walking, gasps and points furiously at someone walking in front of them.

“What?” Kibum asks, eyes following the direction Jonghyun pointed at, confused.

“That! That’s the limited edition Adidas jacket I’ve been searching for! I have to ask him where did he buy that okay wait a minute—hold these for me—and oh, cover me or something okay bye!” Jonghyun is gone in a flash and Kibum blinks rapidly, mouth agape, standing still in his spot like an idiot.

Jonghyun follows the boy—probably younger—to whichever the boy’s going, but after a few runs and walks, Jonghyun lost the boy and finds himself cramped between people in a crowd, near the Han River, circling someone who is dancing.

He stares at the way the boy twists, turns, and doing some body waves, gripping the strap of his sling bag tightly. He suddenly misses dancing and his high school times. His parents told him that he should stop dancing when he’s a college student and focuses on his study, and being a good boy he is, Jonghyun reluctantly follows their order. He doesn’t realize that he had stepped onto the ‘dance floor’ (maybe because he was thinking too much), not until another boy beside him shouts 6.000 won for this kid right here! and pats his back.

“What?” Jonghyun looks over his shoulder and stares at the boy. The boy smiles, nods his head, and pushes Jonghyun to the center.

The other boy who was dancing just now gives him an unbelievable look and shakes his head in annoyance, as if he’s degrading Jonghyun. He tells himself that it’s better if he steps back and goes back to Kibum, but the crowd is encouraging him now, so Jonghyun huffs and he thinks he should dance, and well, Jonghyun's body has a mind of itself.

Dancing makes him happy. It’s one of the things that are Jonghyun’s favorite, other than bubble tea and Kibum. Some people writes to express themselves, but Jonghyun picks dancing as the media to express his feelings, to show the world what he feels by twisting his limbs. Jonghyun dances in the middle of the circle, but soon he runs and dances everywhere; on the stairs, between a kissing couple, on the table, everywhere.

Unfortunately, the Goddess of luck is not on his side today, and he accidentally crashes onto a small ice cream kiosk and it falls to the cold cement, which makes all of the cones and breads and obviously, ice creams, scattered all over.

“Hey! My ice creams! Oh my, look at what you did, pay for it, young man!” The seller groans, raking his brown hair with his two big hands, fuming.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see—“

Jonghyun can’t even finish his words when a hand abruptly grabs his wrist and drags him away.

“Hey, hey what are you doing! I need to—“

“Sssh! Just follow me, or else the guards will come after you. Run!” The boy (Jonghyun finally recognizes that he’s the boy who wears the limited edition Adidas jacket) releases Jonghyun’s wrist and he runs along, following the boy. Yes, the boy is right, there are guards coming after them now, screaming stop right where you are! but they keep running until the guards’ voices disappear.

“Please stop running, god I feel like puking!” Jonghyun groans, covering his stomach with an arm, squatting in front of a clothing store. 

“Yes, we’ll stop now. And by the way, you’re great at dancing. You’re a dancer?” The boy asks, walking ahead, hands in his jacket pockets, still panting from all of the running.

“Thank you, well no, I mean, yes, um, I don’t know if I’m a dancer or not, but I like to dance, and uh, what’s your name? I like your jacket,” Jonghyun answers bluntly, jogging a bit to catch up with the boy.

“I’m Minho, Choi Minho. Thanks, it’s a present.” The boy—Minho—nods, smiling.

They walk and walk until they reach an alley between a flower shop and a small café, not that far from Han River. Jonghyun squints his eyes a little bit at Minho, seeing Minho walking through an alley with a dead end. Yeah. Dead end. What the hell is he doing?

“Yah, where are you going? And my name is Jonghyun, Kim Jonghyun, if you want to know.” Jonghyun says.

“We’re going to The Underground, Jonghyun. Um, are you older than me?” 

“Do I look like I’m younger than you? But do not mention about my height." Jonghyun raises an eyebrow at him. "And what in the world is The Underground? Some kind of secret place or something? Are you an assassin? FBI? CIA? Terrorist? Yakuza? Samurai?” Jonghyun takes a step back and Minho laughs.

“No, Jonghyun, you look older. The Underground is some kind of base camp for me and my friends, and no, I’m not an assassin, nor FBI, nor CIA, nor terrorist, nor Yakuza, and definitely not a samurai. I’m just a dancer, like you.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Jonghyun smiles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. Minho laughs again, then motions Jonghyun to follow him to the end of the alley.

Surprisingly, there’s a door on the right side of the dead end, a plain steel door. Minho digs through his jeans pocket and takes out a key, putting it into the slot and opens the door. He lets Jonghyun enters first, but Jonghyun can only see stairs, so he thinks he’s supposed to go downstairs. He steps carefully between two walls in the darkness, a hand gripping the railing.

He meets with another door, and Minho grabs another key to open door, revealing a three-floored place, or you could call it a house. Jonghyun thinks it’s amazing, with so many beds, a kitchen, a room for dance practice, cupboards, shoes everywhere, books, cell phones, there are even swings and vending machines.

“Woah, this is amazing.” Jonghyun’s jaw drops in a silent big ‘O’.

“Yes it is. Wait until you meet the people. They are more amazing than this place.”

“Heyyyyyy! Welcome to The Underground! Dude, you are amazing, you don’t know how great your dance moves are and dude, no one beats Lee Joon but you just did at the Han River this morning!” Two boys approach him and pats (hits) his arm, one so tall like a giant and another one so small like a dwarf. Jonghyun smiles sheepishly, nodding his head twice, murmuring a small thank you.

“Jonghyun, this is The Oks. The tall one is Taecyeon and the other is Jaebum. They’re twins.” Jonghyun gives Minho a look. There are no possible ways that Taecyeon and Jaebum are twins. No possible freaking ways.

“Twins? How come their height—“

“Yeah, I don’t even know myself.”

“Minho, can I give him a tour? Or just ask him a question? Please? Pweaseeeee?” Taecyeon clasps his hands together and pouts, jutting his lower lip out, widening his eyes a little bit more.

“Ew, gross, don’t pout at me, and no, you can't give him a tour and another no, you can’t ask him a question. It’ll turn into hundred questions. Go, now.”

“Psh, fine. Meanie,” Taecyeon pulls a face and drags Jaebum away from Minho and Jonghyun.

"They're.... interesting."

"We could give him a tour!" Comes a shout from the right side. There are three boys approaching Jonghyun and Minho now, eyes gleaming with hope. "Besides, we're better than The Oks. Because we're The Dragons! Ultra dragon transformation!"

"....What?" Jonghyun looks at them blankly.

"Jonghyun, this is Wooyoung, Junho and Chansung. Wooyoung, Junho, Chansung, this is Jonghyun." The Dragons smiles widely, waving their hands enthusiastically at Jonghyun.

"Rrrrright. Hi."

"Yeah, you guys are kinda better than The Oks. Go give him a tour now, I have to talk to Jinki too," Minho says, ordering them to go.

Minho heaves a hard breath and smirks, wondering if Jonghyun is willing to join his team. If he’s willing, then Minho is sure that his team will win Battle of The Best. The Rangers is amazing, he knows, but his team plus Jonghyun will pull off another awesome dance moves at the final stage and they will beat them and they will win the prize. The House of Ninjas will come out as the winner.

“You said you want to talk to me, what’s up?” Minho drops his back onto the floor and creeps up behind a serious looking Jinki.

“Holy chicken—oh, it's you, Minho. Hello. Stop scaring me like that, will you?”

“Sorry,” Minho chuckles, moving to sit across Jinki on the table. “How can I help you?”

“Erm, listen. I just got a news from the bank that we haven’t paid the rent of this house for four months, and if we can’t pay it, they will put this up for an auction.” Jinki bites his bottom lip slowly, indicating that he’s nervous and thinking too hard.

“But I’ve paid for the last month!” Minho says, slumping his shoulders.

“What about the other three months?” Jinki retorts, his big, thick-framed glasses falling slightly to his nose. Minho stays quiet.

“We’ll find a way,” Minho then answers, pinching the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, head falling backwards. “They can’t put The Underground up for an auction.”



By 3 o'clock in the evening, The Dragons had finished giving Jonghyun a tour around The Underground and they all gather together in the dining room for a late lunch. It's just another regular meal, spaghetti with meatballs and coke, but for some of The House of The Ninjas it's enough, and they won't ask for more. Before Minho found them, they were just bums wandering around the city. Either they ran away from their houses, from another country and no money, or their parents kicked them out.

Minho stands up abruptly when he sees a glimpse of the boy who has been coming to his club since January but stopped coming since May--because of the reason he doesn't know--on the security television, dancing in The Club. The Club is also Minho's property, located on the lowest floor of The Underground.

"Who's that?" Jinki asks from behind him, mouth full of chicken meatballs.

"That's the boy that I told you few days go. It's him. He's back." Minho whispers, eyes glued on the television." Jonghyun, do you want to go to the club? I could show you,"

Minho hears voices saying awww no! He should stay!, and what the, we're just getting started!, and wow you really know how to ruin the fun, choi. But he couldn't care less. So he takes Jonghyun out of The Underground and walks down the stairs again, making their way to The Club. It's so crowded in there, running flying in the air, and beat up songs blasting through the speakers, full volume.

"You can go around the club by yourself, right? I gotta go for a min," Minho has to shout because of the too loud music, patting Jonghyun's shoulder briefly. Jonghyun nods, eyeing the people in The Club one by one. Minho nods back and walks away, trying to find the boy, looking for him from corner to corner, even in the bathroom. He finally finds the boy dancing alone on the dance floor, swaying his hips, mind lost in the music.

The boy then stops, breath ragged and looks up, his pretty brown orbs locking with Minho's black one. He smirks at him and dances away, his long bangs falling and covering his eyes. His movement tells Minho to follow him, saying, show me what you got, can you catch me? Minho can't say no to that, so he smirks, too, following the boy as fast as he can.

Approximately 10 minutes after Minho started following the boy, the boy is lost from Minho's vision and Minho really wants to slap himself for letting him go. Again. He stops searching and stands still, inhaling and exhaling oxygen heavily. People rushes past him, girls asking him to dance together, boys asking him for a dance battle, bumping their shoulders against his broad ones. He stays like that until he feels a hot breath on his right ear—no, on his neck, just above his shoulder. Minho flinches, abruptly turning around, to discover the boy’s face close to his—probably just two inches—much to his contentment.

The boy grins like a Chesire cat, proceeding to run away again, arms flailing at his sides. Minho thinks he looks like a butterfly, with his thin body, long, light brown hair, pink plump lips, cute little eyes, pointy nose, and that soft-looking pale white skin. For Minho, Jonghyun is long forgotten, but suddenly, a chaos ensue around the dance floor, and Minho could spot Jonghyun’s dark brown hair and that not-so-little nose between the people. 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, easy man, it’s my friend right—oh. It’s you. What are you doing here, Joon?” Minho steps onto the dance floor and does an attempt to pull a boy, which apparently is, Joon, off Jonghyun. 

“I haven’t finish my battle with this douche right here,” Joon rolls his eyes and snorts.

“What the did you just call him?” Chaerin pops up from nowhere and literally spits on Joon’s face. Minho and the other team members have to grab her and hold her down, to prevent her from doing any dangerous things. She could be a monster sometimes. 

“Douche. He is really a douche, isn’t he?” Joon raises his eyebrows, a disgusting, evil smirk tugging at his lips. Chaerin groans and flies her fist up to Joon’s face, but Yuri unexpectedly shows up between them, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Well hello, there, Minho. Long time no see. How are you, darling?” Yuri says, reaching up to Minho’s cheek. Minho glares at her, unkindly tearing her hand away.

“Get your dirty hands off me. What the hell are you doing here?” Minho replies angrily.

“Wow, easy there, little boy. Since when did you get so fierce? Don’t be so mean to me, my baby. Wait no, you can do that. It’s hot. I like it.” Yuri winks, making Minho and the other team members “Anyway, I just want to look around my place. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Your place? This is my place.” 

“Soon to be my place, my baby. Just wait. You could never pay for the rent.” It’s now Yuri’s turn to roll her eyes, the sides of her lips tugging upward.

“Yes we certainly could when we win Battle of the Best against all of you. Now get out of here, before I call the securities.” He points at the exit door as polite as he can.

“Do you even have securities?” Joon fake-gapes at him, exaggerating.

“Just shut the up and get the out!” Chaerin finally reaches her boiling point and lunges forward, slapping Yuri across the face. Soon, fists hit another fists, feet kick another feet, hand slap another hand, but in Minho’s eyes, he can only see the boy trapped between two fighting boys. 

Minho concentrates on the boy, pushing other people and slips past them, reaching out his arm to grab the boy’s wrist. The boy struggles, his face showing difficulty and pain, possibly because one of the fighting boys accidentally punches his cheek. The desperately reaches out to hold onto Minho’s hand, his cheek reddens. When Minho at last takes a good grip on the boy’s bony wrist, he carefully pulls the boy to him and drags him out of the crowd. 

The first thing Minho puts his eyes on is the bathroom stall, and he thinks that it’s the safest place, so he brings the boy into the stall and closes the flat white door.

“Hey,” Minho starts, his breath comes out heavy and strong. “I got you, I got you,” 

“Hi,” The boy replies, looking up to him, his breath comes out as heavy as Minho. “Thank you so much…?” The boy waits for Minho to say his name.

“Ah, I’m Minho, Choi Minho. And you’re very welcome…?”

“Taemin, Lee Taemin.” Minho smiles, relieved, hearing the boy’s real name rolled out of the boy’s own tongue.

“Hello, Taemin. Are you okay?” He asks, looking down to Taemin, staring and searching for each other’s eyes. Minho loosens his grip regretfully, his fingers reaching up to Taemin’s red cheek, brushing it softly. This startles Taemin, closing his eyes for a second, but after that he grins up to his eyes, turning it into two crescent little moons.

“I’m okay, it hurts a bit at first bit it’s okay now. I don’t know if it’ll be bruised though,” He says cheekily, putting his own hand over Minho’s and brings it down.

“I could help you,” Minho offers. “What are you doing here with a bag on your shoulder?” He realizes that Taemin’s other hand which isn’t holding to his hand, is holding to the strap of a small traveling bag.

“Oh, this.” Taemin wiggles his bag. “I supposed to meet my cousin and I supposed to stay in his house, but yeah, I don’t know where he is right now,” Taemin lets go of Minho’s hand—much to Minho’s dismay—and scratches his head, smiling sheepishly. 

“You can stay with me and my team hear, on the upper floor. Wait, no, you have to stay with me and my team here.” He deadpans.

“But will your friends accept me? I mean, they don’t even know me and you have to buy more stock of foods and drinks and—“ He crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow and Taemin stops, zipping up his mouth.

“Fine, if you insist.” Taemin sighs as Minho pushes Taemin’s forehead with his index finger, grinning. 

“Come on, let’s go. Stay with me, alright? Don’t let go,” Minho laces their fingers together, poking his head out and heading out of the bathroom. He scans The Club first before walking out, Taemin trailing behind him.

(Hands still entwined.)





Jonghyun goes back to his dorm after the chaos happened in The Club (thank God The Underground is not that far from Kyunghan University). There are 30 text messages and 15 missed calls on his phone, all from Kibum. 

jonghyunnie, where are you? your books are heavy TT . TT 
-bum 'ㅂ'

jonghyun it’s already 5 in the evening where the hell are you
-bum 'ㅂ'

just so you know, we share the same dorm room. the shortest building. on the fifth floor, three doors down from the first door on the left. i hid the spare key in the flower pot in front of the room.
-bum 'ㅂ'

JJONG!!!!!!!!!! you have to thank me when you get home tonight. 
-bum 'ㅂ'

kim jonghyun get your back here. now. don’t wander around alone the univ when you arrive. go. straight. to. our. dorm. room.
-bum 'ㅂ'

jonghyun, you’re okay, right? :’(
-bum 'ㅂ'

seriously, where are you, hyun? stop making me worried. please, please, please go back. or at least, answer my call.
-bum 'ㅂ'

Jonghyun and chews his bottom lip nervously, fiddling with his phone. He hesitantly reply Kibum’s texts, deleting the words he has written once in a while. He knows Kibum is really worried about him right now, probably walking around the dorm room back and forth and biting his thumb anxiously.

kibum, i’m sorry for replying now, but i left my phone on silent and i kept it in my bag so i didn’t hear anything. i’m so sorry, so so so sorry! i’m okay and i’m on my way to the dorm now. once again, i’m really sorry ☹
-hyun ㅎㅅㅎ

Jonghyun feels really bad and really guilty, so he speeds up a little until he runs, he runs through the people and the university gate and confusedly searching for the dorm. He’s out of breath when he arrives on the front door, a hand clutching his phone and the other clutching his stomach. He pants for a while and waits for the automatic glass door to open itself. Jonghyun smiles weakly at the security guard in front of the building, and takes a glance at his watch. What the actual fu- 10 p.m.? Oh my God Kibum—

Jonghyun palms his own head as he runs up the stairs, trying to soothe his uneven breathing. He is sweating so bad, the back of his shirt is already so damp and wet and smelly, his face is red, the beads of sweat entering his eyes. He’s that wet, as if he just comes out from the shower. 

He’s out of breath when the fourth door comes into his few, his legs heavy, arms limp at his sides. Jonghyun digs through the dirt and the silver ring on his ring finger—Kibum has the twin of the ring—clinks against something. It’s the key. Jonghyun quickly takes it out and inserts it into the key slot, turning it twice to the left.

“Kibum I’m sorry I—“ Jonghyun stops in the doorway when he finds Kibum sleeping, slumped against the wall, knees up to his chest, arms wrapping his legs, his right cheek pressed onto his knees. Kibum’s eyes are slightly swollen, his nose a little red and his white phone is still tucked between his long, slim fingers. 

Jonghyun’s chest tightens in his ribcage at this sight, closing the door softly behind him. He crouches in front of Kibum, carefully caressing Kibum’s cheek and he could see the dry tears printed on it.

“Kibum? Hey, Kibum, I’m back,” Jonghyun whispers softly, scratching the dry tears away. Kibum flinches a bit and he opens his eyes, blinking. Jonghyun lips curled up to a gentle smile, and Kibum gasps, eyes wide in shock.

“Oh God finally you’re back!” Kibum lunges forward and ties his still numb arms on Jonghyun’s neck until Jonghyun stumbles backward, falling flat on his . Their position is awkward, with Kibum half-standing on his knees between Jonghyun’s legs, Jonghyun’s arms around Kibum’s thin waist, Kibum’s face on the crook of Jonghyun’s neck and Jonghyun’s chin on Kibum’s shoulder.

“Oi—I can’t breat—mmph—yes—Kib—I’m—ba—ck.” Jonghyun says, muffled.

“I thought something bad happened to you I thought you were involved in a car accident or you tripped and fell into a cliff or you ran away and left me behind—“ Kibum’s breath hitched. Jonghyun pulls away, cradles Kibum’s face in his hands. 

“Hey, Kibum, I’m fine, nothing happened to me. Please don’t cry,” But Kibum cries, covering his face with his hands. Kibum is sitting down now, legs bent, still positioned between his legs. 

“Don’t—do—that—ag—again, I—was—wa—waiting—for—you—the whole noon!” Kibum sobs before he says and after he said the words, peeking at Jonghyun through his fingers. 

“I’m so sorry for making you worried. I promise I won’t do this again. Promise.” Jonghyun takes Kibum’s hands, taking them down and moves his own hand back to Kibum’s face.

“Don’t cry, Kibum, you look ugly when you cry!” He jokes, chuckling. Kibum whines, throwing a light punch at his chest. Jonghyun chuckles louder. He’s not sure if Kibum knows the truth, but for Jonghyun, Kibum is still so sickeningly beautiful even with the too rosy cheeks and smudged eyeliner. 

“I’m just kidding, Kee, but I’m serious that I’m really sorry for making you worried and wait for a long time,” Jonghyun’s eyes soften, brushing his thumb along Kibum’s cheekbone. He leans up slowly—doubting his actions, fighting with his mind (and heart)—suppressing a gentle kiss on Kibum’s forehead. 

Kibum flushes a few shades of red, gripping the front of Jonghyun’s jacket to prevent from stumbling. He ends up piggybacking Kibum back to their room, Just consider it as a payback, Kibum had said. It's quite easy to find their room, because it's the only door beside the bathroom door and Jonghyun may seem stupid but he can surely read the words "Kee's and Hyun's Room! ^^v" on the door, written on a pink heart-shaped post-it. Typical Kibum.

He tries not to fall on top of Kibum when he puts down Kibum on Kibum's own bed (there are two beds, separated by a small table), draping a blanket over him after he succeeded. Kibum's asleep, hair messy and shirt crinkled.

He smiles, Kibum's hair and makes a vow that he must do something good to Kibum, or maybe buy him something, like a new sunglasses. He is about to change his clothes, but a tug on his wrist stops him. He finds Kibum looking at him with half-lidded eyes. 

“Stay with me tonight?” Kibum croaks, pulling Jonghyun onto the empty space beside him. 

“What—what—are you doing? I have to change my clothes! I’m smelly and sweaty!” Jonghyun blurts.

“You smell fine,” Kibum says, retracting the blanket from underneath Jonghyun and covers them both with it. “Just take off your jacket and go to sleep,” 

“Shut up and don’t go anywhere. Sleep.” Kibum demands, snuggling closer to Jonghyun and draping an arm over Jonghyun’s shoulders. 

“How is that possible it’s not comfy Kib—Ah.” It’s useless, since Kibum is already asleep again, breathing near Jonghyun’s neck. Although Kibum is sleeping, he still has strength and Jonghyun can’t even move a tiny bit except if he wants to move closer to Kibum. 

Well, there’s nothing wrong with sleeping in smelly clothes just for a night, right? (And there’s obviously nothing wrong with sleeping in the same bed with Kibum even if Jonghyun feels like his heart is running inside his body, at the speed of 100 km/h.)




The bed that Taemin is going to sleep on is not that good and not that bad either. The bed only fits for one person, but it’s pretty comfortable, and it also includes two pillows, one bolsters, a thick blanket and a mosquito net.

“Just think of this as your own house,” Minho says as he leans on the wooden pole on the right side of the bed.

“Oh okay, thank you very much.” Taemin replies as he digs through his bag for a new shirt and a sweatpants, not bothering to look up at Minho.

“You’re not from here?” He crosses his arms and his mile long legs, nodding his head upwards to Taemin’s direction.

“Um, I’m from here, actually, but I moved to Busan when I was 2 years old.” The other members are all sleeping now, either in their rooms or on their beds in the living room, the same place where Taemin’s bed is. 

“Ah, that explains why you’re walking around here alone.” Minho nods thoughtfully. “By the way, you’re a great dancer don’t you think? Maybe we could hire you as a new member and then we could win Battle of The Best,” Minho rambles and thinks deeply.

“Battle of what? What do you mean?” Taemin asks, tilting his head slightly and sits on the edge of the bed.

“What I mean is, are you up for competition?” He straighten himself, moving to sit beside Taemin on the bed.

“Competition?” Taemin gives Minho the are-you-kidding-me look. “That’s what I live for.” The corner of Taemin’s lips quirks up to a smirk, looking pointedly at Minho.

“That’s the spirit,” Minho smiles, raising up from his seat. “Well, you should sleep now. We’re going to train tomorrow.” He ruffles Taemin’s long light brown hair, making Taemin groan and subconsciously making the butterflies in Taemin’s stomach wake up and making them dance happily inside it, flying, fluttering.

“Goodnight,” Taemin says cheekily, laying down on the bed, grabbing the blanket and dragging it up to his chest, closing his eyes. 

“Yeah, goodnight.” Minho whispers, standing up, ruffling the soft hair once again. “Sweet dreams.” 





Minho rubs his eyes sleepily the next morning, other hand going under his body to find his t-shirt. Then his finger touches a soft fabric (he guesses it’s a little crumpled), so he tugs it up from underneath him, an unpleased sound coming out from his lips.

It’s still seven in the morning, says the neon green numbers in his digital alarm clock, but he can hear a few music beats from downstairs, likely from the practice room. Who the hell practices at this time?

He pulls his shirt over his head, raking through his hair hardly, rolling out of the bed. Trotting down the stairs, he somewhat wobbles but manages to reach the practice room and finds Taemin fiddling with a boom box. 

Minho rolls his eyes but smiles, waiting for Taemin to notice him on the doorway. Unfortunately, Minho seems invisible to Taemin so Taemin starts to dance to the song, leaving Minho breathless by the door, struggling to inhale the oxygen.

When the song stops, Taemin pants and snatches a bottle of water behind the boom box, gulping it down until the last drop. 

“Oh,” says Taemin at last. “You’re awake. How long have you been standing there?” 

“Just from the reff part,” Minho lies, not wanting Taemin to know that he’s been there for 3 minutes and 36 seconds. Or more. Maybe 3 minutes and 40 seconds.

“Should we start practicing now, then?” Taemin asks.

“Yeah, we should. But not here.” Minho answers, tugging Taemin’s pinky, dragging him out.

“Huh?” Taemin asks again, dumbfounded.

“Outside. Out on the streets.” Taemin stares at him blankly, mouth ajar. Minho chuckles, tugging Taemin’s pinky harder and they climb up the stairs together, going out of The Underground. 

But when their feet touch the ground, Minho lets go of Taemin’s pinky and starts to run, adding some dance moves, of course, jumping over a medium trash can beside a tree. Taemin blinks in confusion. It’s not long until Taemin runs after Minho, brushing past an old, smoking man, jumping over a little kid a lollipop, stealing a boy’s hot chocolate and sipping it, hitting the back of Minho’s head, laughing happily like he has no worries, no problems, no works to be done, just him, the song in his head and—

Minho.




Jonghyun really doesn’t know what to do when he sees Minho and a pretty petite boy standing beside him outside the window of his class, the pretty boy waving at him frantically and Minho flashing his abs for the whole world to see. 





Both of the routines for the 2 qualifying rounds are not that hard, Taemin thinks, not because of the fact that he has been dancing since he was a toddler who liked playing in the sand box, but because of the people there.

They are all friendly, accepting him as soon as their hands untangled after they shook hands. They are all bubbly, almost happy everyday, they rarely frown, still smiling brightly even though something bad happens, like when Sooyoung sprained her ankle or when Jinki's asthma relapse and he couldn't continue practicing. Minho also introduced him to the boy from yesterday, Jonghyun, the boy in one of the classroom of Kyunghan University. He is also friendly, like others, a little stupid but fine nonetheless.

For the first time in his entire life, Taemin feels like he has a family.

Sure, he has one healthy mom, one healthy dad and one healthy older brother, and sure they always give him what he want, buying him what he needs. But this is different.

"Eeh!" Taemin screams quietly and breaks out from his thought as someone pushes him from behind, stumbling forward. "Stop daydreaming, your face looked so stupid." Minho laughs, turning him around, squishing Taemin's face in his hands.

"Ew, your hands are sweaty, get them off of my face," Taemin makes a disgusted face, pulling Minho's hand off of his face. Minho laughs again, tickling Taemin's sides, making him to fall onto the floor, also laughing like a maniac.

"S-stop! Min-minho! Stop! We sh-should g-go ba-back to prac-tice!" Taemin says between the laugh, kicking his feet and flailing his arms, clumsily slapping Minho across the face for quite some times.

"Yah, stop having fun and start practicing! 4 more days until our first battle with Tiger Smokes, hello." The Oks says in annoyed tone, breaking them off, much to Minho's disappointment. He likes Taemin's laugh, noisy and crispy and beautiful. 

"Fine," Minho heaves a sigh as Taemin stands up, smoothing his t-shirt, grinning shyly. 

"Places, people!"




“Hey, I thought you were sleeping already,” Taemin says, sitting on the chair beside Minho whose eyes are glued on the computer monitor.

“Hey,” Minho replies, taking a brief glance at Taemin. “I can’t sleep. I bet you can’t sleep to, yes?” He goes back concentrating on the computer monitor.

“Yeah, pretty much. But this hot milk helps, though.” Taemin smiles, blowing the steam above the mug, slowly drinking it. “You want some?”

“Nah, I’m alright.” 

And there it is. The awkward silence. Oh, how they both hate it. He slurps his hot milk quietly, while Minho types and clicks the mouse soundly. He can’t just get up and leave, can he?

“What are you doing?” Taemin asks in the end, sick of the lousy atmosphere. 

“Oh, this? I’m just making music and remixes. You know, for the battles.” Answers Minho, grinning from ear to ear. It is 3 a.m. in the morning and it is cold outside, but Taemin thinks he can survive as long as he keeps the warm feeling he has inside him when Minho grins.

“You make music and remixes? Wow, that’s awesome. Can I hear one of them?” Taemin gawks at him, putting the mug onto the table beside the computer table.

“Yes, but I got some helps from everyone. Sure you can, I just finished this an hour ago. But please don’t laugh at me. Promise?” He holds out his pinky at Taemin, waiting Taemin to hold out his own and link them together. 

“Why are you so childish,” Taemin laughs, but hold out his pinky and link them together, anyway. “Promise.” 

The song Minho had just finished an hour ago is really not bad. Very good, actually. The song is not too fast but not too slow, not rock but not ballad either, probably R&B but has a jazz feeling in it. Taemin’s favorite kind of music. 

Taemin closes his eyes as he listen to the song closely, completely forgetting about their intertwined pinky. Minho doesn’t realize about that too, apparently, too busy watching Taemin’s lips stretch into a small smile, watching the corner of his eyes crinkled and watching Taemin’s perfect, black, thick eyelashes against his soft, soft skin. 

“Amazing.” Taemin opens his eyes and he clearly is amazed by the song, shaking his head in disbelief. Like this story? Give it an Upvote!