XX.

Minho pulls up at an old-looking house at around six-ten and he can see Bom sitting on the steps, looking highly upset. He steps out of his car and the wind makes his hair slap at his face. He holds it back, noting that maybe he should get a haircut soon, and approaches Bom.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to come,” Bom stands, rubbing her arms for warmth.

“Sorry, I didn’t think you’d wait for me out in this cold…” Minho says. “Let’s get inside, shall we? The temperature is dropping as we speak.”

Bom leads him inside the house and he is immediately welcomed with a burst of heat. He feels toasty and good as he looks over the house. It looks quite empty as it lacked important furniture and each step the both of them took echoed throughout the house.

“So when are you going to tell me what you brought me here for exactly?” Minho questions as he takes off his jacket. He hangs it on the edge of one of the dining chairs. Bom was rummaging through, what seems to Minho like, a closet.  “What are you doing?” he demands.

“We,” Bom says. “Are going to be painting!”

“Painting? My apologies I have forgotten to bring my art supplies,” Minho says sarcastically, thinking she couldn’t possibly be serious.

Alas, she was.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.” She pulls out two aprons from the closet she had been ransacking – one was hot pink and the other light pink.  She tosses him the light pink one and begins to put on her own.

“I don’t do pink,” Minho says, eyeing the cloth as if it were a lethal sickness that he didn’t want to catch.

“You will have to do it today, Minho,” Bom replies with a stern tone.

Minho swallows his pride and puts it on obediently. After he’s put it on, he questions Bom again; “So what exactly will we be painting, Bom-ssi?”

“Follow me.” Bom instructs and gestures towards the stairs. She leads him all the way up to a bedroom and even in the hall Minho could already smell fresh paint.

“What is this?” he asks, scoping the room. Blue and orange paint sat around and the walls were painted blue with occasional bubbles emitting from a goldfish here and there.

“It’s a children’s bedroom in the making.” Bom explains, placing her hands on her hips. Minho raises an eyebrow at her so she elaborates. “I know this family - they have four kids - and they’re having a bit of trouble financially… so out of the kindness of my heart I bought this home for them and have design on my own. I’ll be paying the rent until they can find some stable jobs and fend for themselves.” She smiles proudly at her work. “I want it to be a surprised for them.”

Minho snickers. “Is this your way of showing me that you didn’t kill Mrs. Kim? Just because you bought a house for a family?” He scoffs. “Did you really think I’d believe something like that? What do you take me for?”

“Minho-”

He interrupts her. “How do I even know if this “financially unstable family” is real?”

Bom reaches into her pocket and pulls out her hand phone. She fiddles with it for a couple seconds and then shows the screen to Minho. She slides through the photos of her and a skinny looking couple and their children. Next, he could see the small house they abided in. After that he sees four small boys sleeping on a small bed and the room was filled with unnecessary things in every part of the room; the kitchen was small, and the refrigerator was practically empty. Bom kept sliding, but Minho was done looking. It hurt him a little seeing that people actually lived in such conditions; he pitied them.

“Fine, I’ll help you.” He huffs. “Everything looks pretty much done already, though.”

“Not quite. I need more goldfish.” Bom says. “The boys love goldfish.”

“I don’t know a thing about art, Bom,” Minho sighs.

“Don’t worry,” she pats Minho’s arms. “I’ll show you the ropes.”

Bom takes out the paint and gets everything prepared before showing Minho the quick and easiest way he could draw the goldfishes. After two terribly drawn fishes, Bom declares that she’ll be in charge of the fish and that Minho should draw the bubbles, stating that that simple task shouldn’t be too hard for him.

Minho, fortunately, found the bubbles much simpler and Bom turns on the radio so that the house wasn’t so quiet.

They took one break and Bom made them small sandwiches. It wasn’t a surprise when Minho eyes her for the longest. Bom has to assure him over and over that nothing poisonous was in it… They chat (more like Bom asked him questions and Minho would vaguely answer). She asks him things like if he lives alone or was he already settled down, which brought them to the topic having a lover. Out of curiosity, Bom asked him if he had someone special in his life and to her surprise he shook his head no. She felt he was lying since his ears got so cherry red and tried to push the topic further but Minho kept dodging the questions for a good ten minutes and then the sandwiches were gone so they returned to the bedroom to start back on their work.

As time flies by, Bom occasionally steals glances at Minho and she could see him concentrated on the trouble-free circles. She giggles to herself; she couldn’t imagine someone like him being dangerous. Actually sitting down with him and painting the walls was so comfortable and the more she looks at him she actually can’t help but admit that he was indeed handsome. Her girly side was overpowering her as she fawns over him.

She gasps, slapping herself in the cheek. She shouldn’t have such enjoyable thoughts because this was simply a mission to gain Minho’s trust. “Charity is always a good way to trick people into thinking you’re a good person.” Yuhan had told her.

Minho glances over. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” Her whole face goes red in embarrassment. , he’s caught me off-guard.

 “You got orange paint on yourself.” He laughs and points to his cheek.

“Oh, whatever, I’ll wash it off later,” Bom snaps. She leans over to peak at his work. “The bubbles came out mighty fine, Minho.”

Minho looks at her with a proud smile. “Of course, they couldn’t come out any other way.” Bom gestures to the two failures of gold fish he had drawn a while ago. “Oh hush, that’s why you have paint on your face.”

Bom quickly flicks grey paint on his nose before he could react.

“Hey…!” he exclaims flicking his tiny paintbrush at her. No paint comes off of it but Bom doesn’t fail to flinch.

“Don’t get it in my hair!” she squeals.

“I ought to!” he threatens, reaching for a bigger paint brush.

Bom holds up her hands in surrender. “Let’s not have a paint-fight, okay? Wasting paint is the last thing I want to do,”

“Fine, I’ll let you off this one time, Park Bom,” Minho wipes his hands on his apron. He presses the home button on his iPhone, which was resting on a small stool, to check the time. It was nearing eight o’clock. “We’ve been painting for about 2 hours, gosh…”

They both head downstairs and Minho collects his coat and car keys. Once he’s by the door, Bom sticks out her hand for a hand shake.

“It’s been fun,” she says. “I bid you a goodnight. Maybe we could do something like this again…”

Minho shakes her hand, “Yeah, maybe, see you.” He turns to go, but stops and turns in the door frame. “I must say, I’m surprised you didn’t stab me while my back was turned or anything.”

Bom forces a laugh.

“But of course, I don’t see that as being your style. You’d fight me head on, right?” He gives a final smirk and walks down the step.

She shuts the door behind him and watches him from the window as he enters his car and drives off into the night.

“Why are you beating so fast?” she asks her heart aloud. “What’s wrong with you? Stick with the plan! Yeah, he may be cute and charming and all but you’ve got a mission to fulfill.”

/////

Like he promised Kibum, he picked up some Chinese take-out and picked up the younger from his house.

“Why do you smell so strongly of paint?” Kibum questions, his nose crinkles up in disgust. “You even got it on your face.”

Minho glances in the rearview mirror to get a look at his face. Once he sees the gray paint on his knows his fights a laugh. He forgot all about it. Oh that Bom… she’s suspicious, alright. He thinks to himself.

Kibum notices his smile. “You must have had fun with Bom, I take it.” He says and shoves orange chicken into his mouth.

“What? No!” Minho replies. “And don’t eat in my car; wait till we get to my house!”

Kibum rolls his eyes but obliges to his request. He complains about his hunger and that Minho should drive faster instead of fantasizing about Bom. Minho tries to glare at him but fails because he has to keep his eyes on the road and instead tells him to cease the attitude.

It’s about 9 o’ clock when the two enter Minho’s house and Minho is really surprised when he sees Jonghyun resting on the couch, looking over some papers. The smell of their food causes him to look up. His eyes widen at the sight of Kibum arranging the table.

“U-Uh, Minho…”

“Jonghyun I didn’t know-” Minho tried to say.

Jonghyun interrupts. “Can I talk to you for a minute…” he glances at Kibum who’s looking at them curiously. “Privately,” he finishes.

Minho gives Kibum a reassuring smile, letting him know that he shouldn’t worry about a thing, and follows Jonghyun into the corridor.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Jonghyun demands in a loud whisper. “Why did you bring that kid here? I told you I didn’t support you two so what are you doing rubbing it in my face?”

Minho denies the accusation. “I really did not know that you’d be here. You have been returning from work so late in the night recently so I just assumed you wouldn’t be here… while he’d be here.”

Jonghyun crosses his arms. He was highly upset and Minho could tell by his facial expression.

Minho grips his shoulders. “Calm down, hyung, how about you just go talk to him. He isn’t that bad.” Minho gestures towards the bathroom. “I have to wash my face; this paint on my nose is starting to itch.”

Jonghyun huffs as he watches the taller male enter the bathroom. He returns to the dining area and sees Kibum chowing down on his food, hungrily. The younger looks up and a noodle falls from his lips and back into the container.

“Uh,” he chews until he can swallow. “Hello.” He wipes his lips with a napkin and stands. He bows; “I’m Kim Kibum, a friend of Minho’s.”

Jonghyun rolls his eyes. “Jonghyun’s the name and there’s no need to lie… I know your true relation to Minho.”

Kibum reaches for his drink and takes a long sip. He’s nervous for some reason.

“I’m going let you know now that I don’t support you two. Not one bit. I think the whole thing is wrong.” Jonghyun sneers. “Your little heart is just excited that your fantasy of dating a teacher has come to pass.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sir; Minho and I are in love!” Kibum finds himself exclaiming.

“Oh please child, you don’t know the first thing about love.” Jonghyun rolls his eyes. “All you’re doing is consciously jeopardizing Minho’s entire life.”

“You don’t-”

“Don’t know what I’m talking about?” Jonghyun laughs, mockingly. “You’re just an ignorant child, what do you know. You’re over there shouting about love when I’m positive you’ve never been in love. You’re just some kid in the closet that thinks they’ve found refuge.”

Kibum bites his lip a bit hurt by the elder’s words but refuses to show it. “I know that if you were really Minho’s friend you’d be happy for him – for us.”

Jonghyun is about to retort but Minho joins them with a towel around his neck. His hairline was damp from washing his face and from the looks of things he successfully gotten the paint off. He pulls out a chair and situates himself next to Kibum at the table.

“I take it you two have introduced yourselves?” Minho asks, smiling.

“Yes,” they both answer with a hostile tone, glaring at each other.

It goes unnoticed by Minho as he attacks his food. “That’s great,” he says with a mouth full of lo mein.

Jonghyun turns to collect his paperwork from the coffee table and bids Minho a goodnight before returning to his room.

“Jonghyun’s a charming guy, isn’t he?” Minho smiles innocently.

“Indeed,” Kibum frowns, taking his food to the trashcan. His appetite was lost.

/////

The weeks roll by and it was now the middle of September.

Kibum was anticipating his eighteenth birthday as he sat in his mother’s hospital room holding her hand on a cool Wednesday night.

“Mom,” he whispers. “Your sons going to be eighteen soon and I am planning a super huge – well not super huge, only a couple of special, close friends will be of attendance – birthday party and I really want you, my mother, to be there. So you should hurry and wake up, okay?”

Kibum waits, as if she was going turn her head and smile sweetly at him like she always did. The beeping of the machine behind her continues and hsis hopeful smile fades as she continues to lay unconscious on the bed.

“Mom, I really miss you,” he says, blinking back tears. He kisses her cold hand and then rests it on her stomach. He grabs his backpack and throws it over one shoulder. He glances back at her. “You should hurry and get up so I can tell you some really important things about myself, mom,” he says and turns off the lights. “Goodnight,”

In the garage of the hospital, Minho awaits him in his black Volvo. Before Kibum enters the car he squeezes the handles of his backpack.

“All you’re doing is consciously jeopardizing Minho’s entire life.” Jonghyun’s words ring in his head. He wasn’t right, was he? He couldn’t be. Minho has assured him multiple times that everything’s going to be just fine. He was going to be eighteen soon – a legal age.

Minho notices him just standing there and rolls down his window. “What are you waiting for, Bum?” he waves him over. “Come on, get in, we still have to stop by the dollar store for party decorations.”

Kibum smiles widely at him as approaches the car with quick steps.

He shouldn’t worry about that Jonghyun guy. He was nothing. All that matters was he and Minho. Once he was seated in the car, he pulls Minho by the back of his neck and kisses him. The kiss was sweet and filled with so much indescribable passion.

“Mm, what was that for?” Minho asks. He was secretly upset that such a kiss ended.

Kibum sighs and pulls on his seatbelt. “I really like you and the time we share together,” he shrugs as if it were nothing special. “Even if it’s just a little bit,” he mutters quietly.

Minho chuckles and ruffles his hair roughly. “Oh, this kid…”

Kibum pouts, hitting him for ruining his hair.  He fixes it to his best ability and relaxes in his chair. “I really want to find the people who are after my father, you know before they get him… or me.”

Minho grabs Kibum’s hand tightly. “No one’s going to touch you, Bum, I would never allow it. And you know the police are keeping close tabs on your father.”

The younger nods and rests his head against the cold window. He enjoys the classical musical they’re listening to as his hand and Minho’s are resting in the elder’s lap.

We’ll be fine. Kibum assures himself for the final time.

someone commented asking if jongkey forgot about minho returning home covered in blood. and i just want to say jonghyun has not forgotten. he's bitter and angry at the moment. kibum's still, well a kid as much as he disagrees, so it's easy to masks situations.
i think the same person asked about bom's tactics so in this chapter i hope it has maybe enlightened you?
hope you guys are enjoying love works wonders hehe.

i've been doing really good w/ the updates~
keep all your lovely comments coming okay? they legit help out a lot.

i love you guys <3