a/n: sorry for the wait! for what it's worth, i hope this was worth waiting for.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jinki doesn't quite know where he went wrong. It could have been right from the beginning, when Kibum makes snarky remarks and he doesn't say anything back. When Jonghyun laughs along and Minho couldn't care less and for a leader, he makes a pretty ty one. Jinki doesn't quite know what to say, either.

 

But when Taemin came in, Jinki thought he could turn things around. Taemin, the little baby boy who hangs off his every word. Soft doe eyes, complacent glances, trusting, oh so trusting, and for everything it's always a Hyung, hyung, am I doing it right? Have you eaten? Is there anything I could do for you, hyung?

 

Taemin is like a breath of fresh air from Kibum's cutting words, Jonghyun's mocking laughter, and Minho's indifference. Taemin is innocent, naive, kind, gentle and beautiful. Taemin was beautiful. Taemin was--

 

 

--dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jinki is sitting outside the hospital room, eyes closed, taking in the stale air of hospital, of cold white walls and regular beeps. Jonghyun looks guilty and Kibum is not here and the traces of water that streaks down Minho's face tells Jinki that he's been crying. 

 

He wants to hug Minho, then stops, thinks better of it and lets his hand drop. Jinki manages an awkward disjointed pat on the back that makes Minho stiffened up. Red eyes and all, Minho nods stiffly.

 

The fans are whirrling through a white noise that Jinki can't quite put a name to. It's getting harder to breathe, and he tries again. What was breathing, anyway? 

 

Jinki swallows. His throat is parched, and so is his heart.

 

 

He needs a drink. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"--You slept with him?"

 

It comes out as a soft scream more than anything. Kibum's voice is so evidently filled with hurt and disbelief, and it makes the hand on the handle come to a halt. Jinki is back from a bottle of soju, (because he's far too much of a chicken to get drunk), and that bottle of soju is making him a little hazy anyway.

 

"I --he --he needed me," Jonghyun's voice is pleading, and if he wasn't on his knees it sure sounded like he was. "Please understand, Kibum. It was a stupid mistake."

 

"Oh, I get it. You had him and you threw him away." Kibum laughs derisively. "Like how you threw me away. you, Jjong. off."

 

"No, that's not it, no, no, wait!" Shouts. Echoing throughout the doorway. "Kibum!"

 

"Don't touch me," Kibum snaps. "Get your hands off!"

 

Jinki runs through his hair outside and leans against the wall. His eyes are frozen from not blinking. He counts the seconds tick in his head. The night breeze is comforting. He knows what Jonghyun is going to say next. Please don't say it please don't say it please don't--

 

 

 

"When I was with him, all I thought about was you."

 

 

 

Jinki drops a breath he didn't know he held, and hears the night again. He exhales slowly, taking the soft sobs from Kibum as an indication to leave. He wraps his coat around him tighter and his hair is a jet black mess from the unrelenting wind. Somewhere along that makes him wish he didn't hear Jonghyun say that. 

 

He has to bite down hard on his lip to contain his unexplainable anger. Breathe, he chides himself. His lip is bleeding, but he doesn't care. Jinki sees the bus in a distance, and suddenly there is a feeling in his heart that he can't put to words, an unexplicable want to break away that takes flight through his feet. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And so he runs. Jinki runs a leap of disappointments and anger that runs with him. The sweat is dripping off his forehead, all the way to his eyes, and the city lights go past in a blur. He runs for his heart and Taemin's heart. It wasn't something he was used to, running. But he sprints forward, trying to reach, as though the bus was taking away something he left behind.

 

The bus drives on. He doesn't catch up to it. The grief that tasted like apple cider and frustration doesn't make him feel any better. Jonghyun is cruel. Kibum is unfair. Taemin is still lying in a hospital bed half dead inside. Minho is still waiting. Jinki is still an incompetant boy. Nothing has changed.

 

 

"Why is Taemin there? Why couldn't it have been someone else? Why him? Why?" Jinki shouts at the traffic. ( Stop shouting, Jinki. You're making a fool out of yourself, Jinki. What would your parents say if they saw you, Jinki? ) Jinki's thoughts are in a mess. But all he does is take in another deep breath of the night, and he continues.

 

 "Why doesn't anyone care about the boy who is far too young to be so sad? Why couldn't anyone love him without asking for anything in return? Why couldn't I have loved him? Why? Someone ing tell me why!" Jinki screams, and the tears start to fall without restriction. He knows he's shaking. He knows he's crying. It's evident through the taste of salt and blood mixed on his lips. 

 

Jinki lets the tears fall, unabashed at the stares of the passing strangers, and he cries until there are no more tears left to cry, and the shaking and trembling and the pure unadulterated devastation washes over him. 

 

 

 

It's sad. Jinki remembers how to breathe. He tries to breathe again.

 

 

 

So very sad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"I'm okay, hyung," he laughs. "I'm okay."

 

Taemin is awake. Minho is sitting next to him, with their hands intertwined, like holding his hand is keeping him with them, like he'd never let him go. Jinki's eyes are glazed as he smiles for the sake of smiling at Minho's blatant crush.

 

"If you need anything, let us know. Grapes?" Jinki gently puts the flowers he brought into a vase at the ledge of the windowstill. The room walls were creamed coloured, with the sunlight passing in like a friendly neighbour.

 

And he could hear birds outside. Birds. 

 

"That'd be nice, hyung, thanks." Taemin beams at him, and for a second he sees someone unrecognisable to his memory. Minho's face visibly softens too.

It's a private hospital somewhere in the country side. The company couldn't afford any of this going out, so even Jinki doesn't know where the this is. They had a hired van to bring them here, and the windows of the van was tinted an illegal black. 

 

Were they even in South Korea anymore? Jinki gave an inward snort. He washes the grapes gently in the tap of the bathroom. When he's done, he brings them out in a silver bowl and places it on the table for Taemin.

 

Minho picks up a grape, and wordlessly begins to peel. Taemin looks at him questioningly, and Minho pushes the peeled grape through his lips as an answer. He gives an understanding half smile of grateful in return, chewing slowly on the said grape. 

 

 

Jinki looks at the both of them and feels wonder. Of Minho's intricate and fascinating ability to speak with feelings and not words. He is amazed by the tango the two of them easily slip into, made up of tiny gestures and comfortable silence. Only Taemin could dance this dance with him. Then again, it's not like Minho spoke much to begin with.

 

"Has anyone else came to visit?" Jinki asks cautiously. He's afraid that this would break what has been carefully crafted by Minho. He could almost feel his head burn by the look that Minho was giving him.

 

But Taemin laughs it off anyway. "Kibum has," he says, and it's a look of bemusedment and cynicism. If Jinki notices how Taemin dropped the 'hyung', he doesn't say anything. Minho silently continues peeling grapes. 

 

"I see," Jinki says. 

 

So Jonghyun didn't have the balls to see the boy he put in the hospital. That was awfully nice of him.

 

 

What a .

 

"Well, I better get going. Got to see to some admin stuff and all, you know." Jinki slings his rucksack over his shoulder. "Call me if you need anything, yeah?"

 

"Yeah," Taemin's eyes are moon lids when he smiles. "Yeah, okay. Thanks for coming, hyung."

 

Jinki nods, and it is one directed to Minho as well. Minho jerks his head in acknowledgement. He closes the door with a quiet click and finds the security escorts waiting for him. He passed his bag over as they wrap a cloth of black over his eyes.

 

 

 

 

Taemin was better off here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jinki wakes up on a soft queen bed, white hotel sheets spread all over. It is a sleek place with a beautiful scene of the city lights in Seoul. With all its sham, drugery, and corruption, Seoul was still a beautiful place. His heart starts to ache and he blinks wearily at his window reflection. Bed hair astray, bare chest and bare legs. He's not even wearing any underwear. Jinki's precious stone pendant hung cool and comforting against his neck as his only clothes.

 

"Good morning," a person at the door way says. There is a cigarette between his soft plump lips, blowing the smoke into the room.

 

Jinki frowns. "Stop smoking, Jjong."

 

Jonghyun douses out the flame. Jinki's unease has settled somehow, knowing that he was in a hotel with Jonghyun was a safe thing. Jonghyun and him would never fool around, drunk or not, he just knew. 

 

"You ran away." It was a fact. Not an accusation.

 

"What do you want me to say, hyung?" 

 

"Go yourself."

 

"Mind your language."

 

Jinki twists the blank on his face into one of a scowl. It's a black smear that makes Jonghyun bare his teeth at. What a , Jinki thinks to himself again silently.

 

"Do you not feel anything? Anything at all?"

 

 

For a second Jinki thinks he sees something similiar to guilt on Jonghyun's face. But as quick as a second is gone, it's something that brushes and flitts off before he gets the chance to catch it.

 

"I never loved him," Jonghyun shrugged. "He knew."

 

" you."

 

"Language."

 

 

Jinki is trying his best not to punch Jonghyun's face into the wall right now. He pulls on the first pair of jeans he finds lying on the floor sloppily. He doesn't care that he's going commando right now. "Hey! That's mine!" Jonghyun protests.

 

" to be you, then," Jinki mutters crossly under his breath. He's putting on his shirt the other way round but he really doesn't care as long as he gets out of the door. He can't afford to spend another living second with this walking atrocioty.

 

 

" you too!" Jonghyun calls out through the doorway angrily.

 

"Language!" Jinki yells back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Somedays Taemin is good. A good Taemin is one that maybe cries a little but not so much. And if Minho's lucky, he'll take a bite of his food or two. Somedays Taemin's not so good, and he turns into a ship destined for wreck. It's really bad when it's bad, but okay when good. Minho exists for those good days.

 

Today's one of the bad.

 

"Taemin? You gotta eat something," Minho chides gently.

 

"Why doesn't he love me?" Taemin's sobs are muffled in his pillow.

 

"Oh, Taemin," Minho sighs. It was like explaining why eating too much candy would make your teeth rot to a child. "You don't choose who you love. And you can't force somebody else to love you too. It's just how things work."

 

"But it hurts so much, hyung!" he screams hysterically, tears rushing forth like a flood. Taemin grasps blindly and throws a book at Minho's direction. "Make it stop!"

 

Minho catches the book easily and puts down the bowl of apples. He stretches his arms out and brings Taemin's tiny body in, wrapping himself tight. "Shh," he murmurs, "it's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

 

Taemin is crying and shaking and crying and shaking but he's nodding furiously and all Minho can do is hold and him.

 

 

 

Minho heaves a sigh. Life was hard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a gorgeous day when Kibum came. Everything was running smooth, a little too smoothly perhaps, but Minho was never one to question good things. Taemin drank his banana milk and ate some peaches. He listened to Minho when he read. There was even a ghost of a smile. It was nice and quiet.

 

When Kibum walked in, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't say anything for a long time. Minho feels Taemin's hands freeze in his, and he choses to keep still. After a long time of not saying anything, Kibum looks up.

 

"Hi," he says lamely.

 

Taemin stares.

 

"So, um- I know this looks bad, but, , I don't even know what I'm doing, okay? And I'm sorry for being such a terrible person, and I'm sorry for being a , okay?" Kibum takes a deep breath. He looks away. "And I didn't mean for any of this to happen, yeah?"

 

Taemin gives a scoff. He half tilts his head and casts Kibum a condemming glance.

 

"I didn't exactly ask for this too, umma."

 

"," Kibum swallows harshly. "About the whole mom thing, you don't have to do it too, okay? I'm just stupid. I'm sorry."

 

"Okay," Taemin says simply. "Kibum?"

 

Kibum flinches at the lack of honorifics, but catches himself before he says anything. Who is he to demand respect after what he did? The funny thing was, he didn't do much wrong, but it still felt like a terrible sin, to have harboured such thoughts. And when there is a half dead boy staring back at you because of you, you're wrong. And that's that. He nods stiffly, and accepting. "Yeah?"

 

 

"Get out, please." Taemin says clearly, adverting his eyes to the scenery out the window.

 

 

 

Kibum swallows again, but this time it's his pride. "Okay."