Jinki smiled in triumph. There was now an actual table for dining purposes. It was scared and scratched and three different colors but it was theirs, and that was what mattered. He could already imagine having people over for dinner or drinks; Kim “just call me Key” Kibum, that oddball juvenile delinquent, the busty chatterbox, and the Hobbit dancer.

He and Minho would be gracious hosts. Maybe he could even talk his athletically inclined roomie to change out of his tank and gym shorts and not come to the table all sweaty. That would be a lovely miracle.

“What on earth is that?”

The disgusted voice pulled Jinki from this quiet mental ramblings, and he whipped around to see Key lounging in the doorway. “Don’t you ever knock?”

A cool gaze. “Not really, no. Not unless the door is locked, or I have reason to believe you’re . Maybe not even then,” he said with a salacious wink.

Jinki blushed. Sometimes Key’s particular brand of crass knocked him for a loop.

“But back to that abomination. What is it?” Key side-eyed the newest piece of furniture like it would bite.

“It’s a table.”

“I’ve seen plenty of tables. I’ve been under them, splayed on them, even danced on them, and that is not a table.”

Jinki gazed lovingly at the hunk of wood. “It meets all the prerequisites of a table.”

Key scoffed.

“It has four legs.”

“They’re uneven, and obviously salvaged from other, now, legless … things…”

“It has a flat surface to put things on.”

“Are you kidding me? If I lay down on it and give a wiggle, there’s enough bumps on there to qualify it as a masseuse.”

Jinki stared quietly for a moment. “Well, it has character.”

“Yeah, of a homeless schizophrenic.”

Jinki’s next argument was cut short by the balcony doors swinging open and rebounding off the walls, followed quickly by Taemin and Jonghyun flying in and landing soundly on their feet.

“Man, lemme tell you, that is the last time I help a stranger find his puppy in his van,” Taemin proclaimed, dusting off his shirt. “He didn’t even have the candy he promised.”

“Life’s tough when you’re a ,” Jonghyun commiserated, clapping him on the shoulder. “Hey, Jinki, what are you doing here?”

“This is my apartment, meat head. What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” Jonghyun laughed, “Taemin got a creepy admirer, and instead of leading him right to his apartment, we came here.”

Jinki blinked. “You lead a creepy guy here? To my place? Where I live? What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” Jonghyun’s eyes fell on the table. “Oh, hey, I think I’ve seen these on infomercials. They massage, right?” He circled it, studying it. “Where do you put in the quarter?”

Jinki sputtered.

“No quarter. All you have to do is hop on and wiggle,” Key interjected before Jinki could untie his tongue.

Taemin squinted his eyes and tapped his lip with a fingertip. “Where have I heard that before?”

Key lifted a perfectly shaped brow. “Are you serious?”

Jonghyun hoisted himself up onto Jinki’s new table and got on his back. He shifted, shifted again, sighed. “How does it work again?”

Key slapped his hand over Jinki’s parted lips, cutting off his words. “Oh, just give a wiggle, she’ll take care of the rest.”

Jonghyun did just that, and the uneven table legs kept rocking. “Oh, goodness gracious, this is heaven,” he let out on a moan, eyelids fluttering, mouth hanging open. “Taemin, get your scrawny up here and wiggle with me.”

“Now, I’m sure I’ve heard that one before too.” Taemin jumped up beside Jonghyun.

“You guys, really, that supposed to be a—”

Key literally grabbed hold of Jinki’s tongue with his fingers and talked over him, upping the volume of his voice a notch. “Isn’t it the greatest?”

“Uh, god, yes, right there.” Taemin was practically purring, fingers curling, back arching, head shaking from side to side.

Jonghyun really began to get into it, using his hips to move the surface frantically, grunting with the exertion, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

A cracking could be heard over Taemin’s inane babbling and , and then both of the boys, only moments ago having what seemed to be the “massage” of their lives, were sprawled on the floor, wood chips and bits caught in their hair, eyes wide, pupils blown to kingdom come.

Key’s jaw unhinged. Jinki made an odd squeak, Jonghyun gasped, and Taemin let his breath out in a huff.

Jinki began to gesticulate wildly, words beginning and then cutting themselves off, pausing to occasionally take a sip of air. Key began to bray with obnoxious laughter.

“Jinki,” Taemin said, voice rough and breathless, “we broke it.”

Jinki’s eye began to twitch violently, making him look like a spastic winker. “I don’t— But I only just— What in the hell—” He put his head in his hands and his shoulders started shaking.

“Hey, at least no one got hurt, right?” Key quipped, moving to the door, having been the only one to hear the knock, what with everyone else being in various states of shock and having blue balls.

He pulled the door open. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry to disturb,” a nervous voice answered. “I need help to find my puppy, and I heard there’s a very resourceful young man that lives here.”

Jonghyun and Taemin were up off the floor in a flash, out the balcony doors quicker than that, and gone into the night.

Jinki threw his hands into the air. He needed a nap.