"Geez, kid, you're something else." Daesung's praise was muffled by a mouthful of mashed potatoes and steak, but the sincerity shined through. Minho smiled sheepishly and ate ravenously, his stomach hollowed out by a hard day at work.

"Where'd you get so buffed?" Jonghyun asked as he dipped some bread into the meat sauce and stuffed it into his mouth. Kibum made a small sound of agreement as he cut his steak, stuffing chunk after chunk past his lips. Minho had wrapped his steak up in his bread, piled on the mashed potatoes, and was eating the thing like a hot-dog. Three bites, and it was gone.

"I've been killing zombies since my school burned down and my family..." Minho sighed as he swallowed the last mouthful and looked down forlornly. He heard a collective sound of empathy rise from the table.

"I understand. My family was always against me coming here, becoming a soldier, but I guess they can't stop me now, since they were infected... I killed all of them, or what was left of them, a while back," Daesung murmured. Minho's eyes widened, and he shakily pat Daesung's shoulder, watching the man's sad smile.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. My parents tried to kill me in the middle of the night. I had to back into both of them with the car. Well, I guess they weren't my parents anymore," Jonghyun sighed. Minho looked down, feeling the raw emotions coming from all three of his new friends.

"At least I was an orphan," Kibum whispered, and Minho looked up in time to see Jonghyun wrap his arms around the slim boy's trembling shoulders. All of them didn't seem to really want to talk anymore.

"Choi! Choi Minho! On your feet, soldier!" a voice shouted. Minho looked up and saw Youngbae, a small scowl on his face. "Come on, you're done eating. Follow me. Official orders from up top."

"Yes sir," Minho said slowly, getting up from the table and trailing Youngbae. He looked behind him and saw his companions looking at each other with confusion. Shrugging, he turned back and watched the back of Youngbae's head as they marched down the winding, white hallways. They had gone through a small door, a back-door sort of thing. Shady.

"Try to keep up," Youngbae snarled as he took a sharp turn to the right. Minho veered after him, sighing as Youngbae kept turning without warning, as if deliberately trying to lose Minho in the empty corridors. The boy groaned softly as he tried to stay on Youngbae's tail.

"Hey, if you're still mad because I beat you up this morning, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you—" Minho got the words knocked out of him by Youngbae's fist, and he was pinned to the wall by the throat.

"Don't think that this is about me," the man snarled, squeezing on Minho's windpipe. The boy struggled and tugged at Youngbae's fingers, stumbling as he was released. Frightened, Minho watched as Youngbae turned again. He followed slowly, rationalizing that if Youngbae had wanted to kill him, he'd have done it already.

"Where are we going?" Minho finally asked, looking at all of the identical walls. He prayed that he wouldn't get lost in here. That could just end his lip, if he wasn't lucky.

"You're going on a mission. I know you're not very well trained, but you can handle yourself, apparently," Youngbae said as he stopped in front of a door and dug through the keys at his belt.

"And? I'm just going to go alone?" Minho asked, swallowing the lump in his throat. Youngbae scoffed as he opened the door and waved the boy in. Minho stepped into a classy, albeit aging, room with a dining table and a large chest in the corner. And a door.

With sounds coming from within.

"We decided to let you say a little word to your little friend before you leave," Youngbae said with a smirk at Minho's expression. Or was it a smile? The younger couldn't even think. He was going to see Taemin? Really? His heart was pounding like a hammer as Youngbae unlocked the door.

"You have one hour," the man said before he left the boy to his fun. Minho didn't even listen as he rushed into the room, looking around in the darkness. The door closed behind him, and his heart rate sped up until it almost stopped. And then he heard the soft whisper, the voice that had been on his heart for so long that he nearly died from want. The want for that beautiful, perfect boy that he needed in his arms.

"Minho?"

"Oh God, Taemin." Before either knew it, both boys were on the floor and there were tears and laughs and wailing sobs of joy and worry and God, they were there. They were together, and they couldn't even begin to believe it.

"Minho, are you okay? Are you hurt? I missed you so much, Minho," Taemin whispered, his lips by Minho's ear, his back on the floor. Minho was pressing kisses to Taemin's face, his cheeks and temple and his neck and shoulders and then they were looking into each other's eyes.

"I'm fine, Taemin. I'm just fine. I'm a little bruised, but nothing's happened. I'm just... I'm so happy to see you," he whispered. He touched Taemin's face, those cheeks that were hollowing out from hunger, tracing under those eyes with a delicate brush of his fingers.

"Minho, that tickles," Taemin giggled with that never-extinguishable flicker of energy. Minho laughed and cupped Taemin's cheeks. He watched as Taemin squirmed, and then realized that his friend was cuffed. His arms were twisted behind his back, wrists locked by cold metal shackles.

"How could they do this to you?" Minho snarled as he quickly sat up and pulled Taemin into his arms. The boy snuggled, as if nothing was wrong, as if they were back on the outside with their lives still in that perfect disorder.

"Minho, are you here to do what they do? I hear people, you know... I hear them talk about what they do here. I hear about what you'll be doing," Taemin whispered as he looked up at Minho, his eyes wide with fear. The older boy didn't know what to say, what to do to make Taemin's eyes dim lower, to help calm the boy.

"Hey, you know me," he tried to chuckle, leaning against a cold wall and holding his friend close. "I'll be fine, okay? Nothing could ever take me down. Nothing's going to happen."

"Nothing will ever happen, then. Nothing will ever happen like this, Minho," Taemin whispered. He let his gaze and Minho's linger, and the older boy could see something in Taemin's eyes that was so different from the glee Minho was used to. Something like a different time, a wind blowing against a tornado, a trickle flowing upstream.

"What do you mean?" Minho whispered, cupping Taemin's jaw and brushing the soft cheek with his thumb. The boy smiled, something in his smile that caught onto his age, caught onto the man he was becoming. Something adult and grounded in this world as he leaned forward.

"These monsters aren't really monsters. They're sick. I can tell. It's... It's their scent. They smell like they've just been sick for a long time," Taemin whispered. Minho felt like he was drowning in the foreign side of Taemin, like his whole world was being flooded by Taemin's soft voice and un-laughing eyes. "And I think they can become human again."

"Taemin... Taemin, what are you talking about?" Minho asked, not knowing what to make of this Taemin, who didn't smile as he leaned closer. Minho leaned closer too, watching as Taemin examined him. Their breaths brushed, heir fears mingled in the other's warmth.

"Minho, you can't just fight for death. You have to fight for a change too," Taemin murmured. He was slipping away from the happy memories, from the happy times, back into the sadness. Still, he felt like he could say what he wanted to Minho, because Minho would understand him. Minho was, after all, his best friend. His everything. He'd be protected from sadness as long as he was with Minho.

"Taemin... I can't change the world, Taemin. I can't do anything except fight for what I'm able to fight for. I can't—" Minho was cut off by the feeling of Taemin nuzzling him happily. His breath caught in his chest as the boy looked up at him with those eyes that took away reason, fear, anything that stood in his way.

"I believe in you, Minho. You'll do what's right," Taemin murmured. "You'll come back to me, right? You'll always..." Taemin trailed off, and for the first time, Minho saw tears in Taemin's beautiful eyes. In the dark, they shone like diamonds. Riches spilling from Taemin's soul.

"I'll be here again, Taemin. I could never lose you," Minho whispered, his hands slipping into Taemin's warmth. One arm was around Taemin's waist, the other wrapping around Taemin's shoulders. Taemin's handcuffed hands brushed against Minho's fingers.

"Don't leave me," Taemin murmured, closing his eyes and letting his tears slip down his dirty cheek, drawing a pale trail to Minho's hand. The older boy peeled his palm from Taemin's face and instead tipped his chin up.

"I won't, but in case something happens... Taemin, in case you lose me—" He was stopped by Taemin's lips kissing his cheek. It was shaking, but firm, which was why Minho couldn't bring himself to protest or ask. It was the kiss of someone too scared to use their lips to speak, and yet someone with so much to say.

"Don't say that... I won't lose you," Taemin whispered. Minho looked into those eyes, the eyes of the boy that wouldn't explain his actions because no explanation was needed. There was no such thing as romance in this world, but love could exist. Love so strong that they'd never acknowledge it, because it would swallow them whole. They'd just graze the surface of it, get as close to an inferno as they could without being engulfed.

"You're my best friend," Minho whispered without thinking, his face still covered in Taemin's kiss. Taemin's eyes were calm yet frantic, happy and yet so, so sad. Tragically ecstatic.

"And you're my best friend too," Taemin whispered, and Minho wondered how he could have been blinded by Taemin's endless smiles to see the real Taemin, who was so much more precious than any giggle or mindless laugh. This was the Taemin he truly treasured, he realized. The Taemin he l—

But again, there could be no such thing as love. A crush was dangerous enough. Love... Love was death, surely. Love wad the end.

"What do you want from this world?" Taemin asked softly as he leaned against the wall and fixed his eyes onto Minho's strong features, the way he looked back without flinching. Taemin could feel his heart ache. In this emotional limbo, where he could no longer pretend to be happy but couldn't bring himself to be sad, he could see Minho for what he truly was. And, probably what hurt the most, he could see his feelings for Minho for what they really were.

"I want... More," Minho answered, shifting closer until their knees were touching. He leaned forward and wrapped Taemin up in a hug, breathing the scent that still drifted from under the stale smell of the cell. The aroma of what was truly Taemin.

"I want change, Minho. I want to help people... But I can't do it. Not with the world like this," Taemin whispered with a shuddering voice. Minho pulled away and saw how Taemin's eyes asked him, begged him.

"I... I'll try to change that, then," Minho murmured, and Taemin's face broke into a smile so beautiful that it was all Minho could do not to press his mouth to it and swallow as much of Taemin as he could, kiss his lips and on his sweet tongue and let their bodies meld together.

Instead, he just searched Taemin's eyes, seeing something genuine beyond truth. The smiling, giggling idiot that he knew outside wasn't this Taemin, and yet was more of this Taemin than he could explain. Something about the exposed innocence, and yet the unending wisdom of the world. The eyes that saw nothing but fantasies, and yet saw through the world with ease. The mouth that spoke nonsense, and could say it with the truth threaded through each word. The ears that heard their own music and made it the song of the world instead... Taemin was nothing and everything, a paradox of logic.

"Who are you right now?" Minho whispered, reaching forward and feeling Taemin's cheek slide into his palm as if seeking it out. The boy shuddered slightly, as if there was nothing more terrifying than thinking about his own identity.

"No one is who they really are, Minho. Not now, in this world, so asking me about my real self is useless," Taemin muttered, looking away. Minho smiled gently, trying to coax some measurable amount of joy from Taemin's heart.

"I'm still me," he murmured gently, and he heard a soft scoff from Taemin, a sound that made him quickly withdraw his hand. He'd never heard a sound so cynical, cold, merciless come from Taemin.

"You're not. No one could be. Anyone who staye the way they were —soft, stupid, naïve—ended up dead," Taemin muttered. He could feel how Minho pulled away, and he knew that he was withdrawing too far into his old shell—that worthless, dirty coating that had once been his identity. He looked up at Minho, seeing the shock in the older boy's eyes.

"Taemin, are you... Okay?" Minho whispered. Taemin bit his lip at the fear in Minho's eyes. Was he scaring Minho? Would he lose Minho like all of the others? Was this the end? No... Anyone but Minho. Quickly, Taemin blinked away the coldness and tried to snuggle into Minho's chest.

"I'm sorry... I'm just... I'm so s-scared," Taemin whispered, and Minho held him again. Still kept him. Thank God. Taemin looked up into the boy's confused, but beautiful face. "I... I don't want you to die, Minho. I wan you to be different from what you used to be. I want you to be stronger, smarter, better."

"And I can still be those things and still be myself," Minho murmured. Taemin blinked in surprise at the soft smile that spread over Minho's face, the darkness failing to hide the light in his eyes. "I can still be the same on the inside."

"But—"

"Look, if you don't want to tell mr about yourself... If you just want to forget your past, I understand. You don't have to be angry, or scared," Minho whispered, rendering Taemin speechless, and Taemin's poor heart sped up three times as fast as Minho kissed his forehead. He just wanted to stay like that, Minho holding him, Minho making him feel safe and happy and oh, so warm. A warmth like... love? No, it couldn't be love. Love was too risky, too dangerous, too much to lose. But it could be something else, maybe a feeling like a crush, a tug at his fragile heartstrings.

And the courage to admit it, because this might be the end anyway.

"Minho, I—" They were cut off by the door opening. Minho pulled away quickly and looked up, and a man Taemin had never seen before stood in the sillohuete of light. Minho got to his feet promptly.

"Yes, Youngbae sir?" Minho asked stiffly. The man beckoned and Minho sighed as he looked at Taemin one las time. He had to go, leave behind his best friend in this cold jail cell, in this room of stone and grime.

"Hurry back safely," Taemin murmured, and Minho nodded. He marched out into the large, white-walled room again and the door behind him shut.

Taemin was gone again.

"Where are we going?" Minho asked as he strapped on the huge gun that was handed to him. He and Youngbae marched down the halls as Minho fumbled with his utility belt and tried to make sure everything was there.

"Above ground. That enough for you?" Youngbae snarled as he shoved his way through the walls as if they were crowded instead of empty. Minho kept his mouth shut the rest of the trip.

"Alright, kiddos, move out," Seunghyun was instructing in the cafeteria as a select group started for the outside door. The huge double doors swung open and TOP was there, a large machine gun strapped to his chest. He waved his arms, and about ten soldiers followed him in the march. Minho joined their ranks. Not a single familiar face. Just men and women with weapons at their sides or on their backs, their faces set like stones.

"We're headed for the countryside. We got reports of a small colony of humanoids living in the monster. No certainty about their exact identities, but in case they're still human, we have to be cautious," TOP informed as he pressed a button in the wall. An elevator opened up nearby, and the first group of five went in. They rode up, their faces calm and collected.

"See you up top," TOP saluted as the soldiers disappeared from sight. As soon as the elevator came down, the next batch went up. And the next, only Minho was held back by TOP, who was smirking a little.

"Scared?" he asked the boy, fixing Minho with an examining look. Minho was trying not to shake, even though he would've liked nothing more than to hug something for comfort.

"No, sir," Minho said firmly. TOP laughed and patted Minho's shoulder. The bullets rattled in their cartridges, and Minho was reminded of the power of the gun.

"Kid, everyone's scared. Hiding it just makes it worse," TOP said as he boarded the last elevator with Minho. The boy looked at TOP in shock as he heard the car hiss up its shaft to the surface.

"Everyone?"

"Trust me, kid. Even me." Minho gawked at TOP's statement as the elevator doors opened and they were greater by troops in a 3x5 formation. Minho hurried to his spot in the back.

"Alright then. Move out!" TOP roared, his voice like a whip. The whole platoon stood at attention, their bodies rigid. Minho copied them as best he could.

"Sir, yes sir!"

A/N—So busy... So tired... *curls up and cries*

So Taemin melted a little... He's so wonderful to write <3 And of course, Minho's just asdfghjkl He's my bias <3

More to come, comments are love <3