Onew held his brother in his arms as he walked down the sidewalk full of people.

Taemin’s rather pale skin was the most blinding thing in the sunlight and the toddler gained a lot of attention for it—very good attention, but Jinki thought just the opposite. Taemin needed some color on him. There’s pale and then there’s sick and deathly pale. It was his fault Taemin was on the borderline.

  “I like people,” Taemin quietly said, looking at all the fascinating cars on the street, “They’re nice to me.”

Jinki hummed in an optimistic manner, overdoing it and causing the child to laugh at his voice. Jinki could smile at that small moment. It wasn’t often this child let out happiness in such an open way and it was something that Jinki could even cry from.

Taemin deserved to be happy. To have a social life. To not live in a damn attic.

Jinki walked across a crosswalk with a tight line as lips, glad Taemin wasn’t paying attention to his face. It was exciting to have an actual day out with him, but it just gave him more thoughts to think about.

Jinki’s protectiveness was actually hurting Taemin—he may not be physically harming the boy himself, but he was still hurting him. Taemin thought being seen by the neighbors was a bad thing, that because he never went downstairs to his sober mother was the reason she left again.

He didn’t teach the toddler correctly and it was his fault he put these thoughts in the boy’s head.

Raising him was so damn hard. He didn’t know how his mother did it with him, but that was another story—he actually had a father to help.

Taemin didn’t have a mother. Not even a father. Just a brother.

  “Hyung, happy face,” Taemin ordered, squishing the elder’s cheeks together, “It’s a good day!”

Jinki gave him the biggest smile, his eyes turning to crescents and shook Taemin a little playfully, “It’s a very good day.”

  “I’m gonna hang out with Minho!” the child sang, swishing his arms around, smacking Jinki on the chest at some points, “Minho’s coming with us!”

The elder nodded once more, directing them to the theater Minho told him to be at.

Jinki was forever in debt to Minho for actually changing his mind about taking him and Taemin out to do this. But the burning thought that Minho was actually going to be uncomfortable the entire time they were together is what slowed Jinki’s pace to the destination.

He really thought Minho wasn’t going to show up. Maybe Minho would text him to say he couldn’t do it.

Jinki couldn’t hate Minho for backing out now; yes, it’ll be difficult to avert Taemin’s attention from it, but he couldn’t force Minho to do this kind of thing.

  “Hyung!” Taemin tried kicking his legs, “Hyung! Minho Hyung!”

Jinki fell out of his brain and looked at the entrance to the theater, seeing Minho leaning against the wall and furiously tapping his foot nervously.

Jinki gulped and closed the distance between them slowly, Minho’s eyes meeting with the two and putting a façade on just for Taemin.

  “Taemin-ah!” Minho smiled the best he could, taking the toddler out of Jinki’s arms and into his own, “Taemin-ah looks happy!”

  “I get to hang out with Minho!” Taemin squealed, an arm wounding around Minho’s neck, “It’s going to be a very good day!”

Minho looked at Jinki again, but Jinki couldn’t return his smile. He could see the pain and angst stinging in his eyes and it made Jinki feel awful.

  “Let’s go, Hyung,” Minho cheerfully said, nudging him on the arm and entering the theater.

They entered the line to receive tickets for the child movie Taemin picked out and Jinki purposely stood behind Minho, trying to make it look as if he were just a person behind another customer.

  “I’m sorry, sir. My daughter should be here any moment. She usually buys the –let’s-go-to-a-movie thing.”

  “No, no, don’t worry. My son’s not here either. He usually buys it, too. Maybe they both know it’s a set up.”

  “Excuse me, gentlemen, but isn’t that Choi Minho?”

Jinki’s eyes cut to the group of middle-aged men now whispering to each other, sitting in chairs in business suits, looking as if they didn’t even belong.

  “Yeah, that’s Minho,” someone else whispered.

Jinki’s heartbeat rapidly beat. How could this coincidentally happen? Why of all places were these idiots in a theater?

  “Who’s Minho?”

The business huddled like schoolgirls telling gossip and Jinki clenched his fist, only hearing parts.

  “His parents divorced when he was four, you know? His father’s my best friend—his mother came out and told his father that she was gay, but would oh-so gladly stay to raise Minho. Minho’s father did the right thing by kicking the woman out of the house. She would’ve spread her filth on the boy.”

Jinki never asked about Minho’s mother because he was sensitive to the subject. And now he completely understood why.

Jinki looked back at Minho, seeing Minho was listening on their conversation, too.

  “Who’s the kid he’s holding? His?”

  “That can’t be his. He never goes out, like his father says.”

  “Is it a friend’s?”

  “Maybe that guy behind him?”

  “Minho,” Jinki whispered, “Give me Taemin.”

Minho looked back at Jinki, frustration across his face while he shook his head, “No. I don’t . . . I don’t care. C-Come stand beside . . . me.”

Jinki shook his head, thinking the boy was insane, “Are you crazy? What are you trying to prove?!”

Minho good-naturedly put a hand on Jinki’s shoulder, moving Jinki beside him, “I’m trying, Hyung. I’m trying . . . to ignore it. T-there’s nothing wrong with holding a friend’s baby brother . . . right?”

Jinki’s brows pulled together rather forlornly, hating the confidence on his face as his voice was faltering. Minho wasn’t being himself; he was only trying to prove. Minho was inside that body, but it was a shield on the outside.

  “Taemin, come here,” Jinki ordered, holding his hands out.

  “I don’t want to . . .” the boy mumbled shyly, not very content with refusing.

Minho’s lip tugged upward a little, finding it just a tad funny Jinki was being refused.

  “Minho Hyung?” Taemin asked.

Both boys had their gaze on the boy kicking his feet a little, waiting for him to continue.

  “Thank you for being friends with me and my brother,” the boy obnoxiously spoke loudly, “I know I’m annoying.”

Before they could speak, the business men continued on.

  “See—just friends. Nothing to it.”

  “The other one couldn’t leave the kid home?”

  “Maybe Minho likes the kid. He’s good with kids, you know?”

Jinki eyed Taemin down, who was all red in the face and twiddling his thumbs, “Taemin, you said that on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “They were being nosey and I put it to rest,” the boy whispered, “I’m sorry, Minho Hyung if I embarrassed you.”

Minho smiled again and Jinki could feel the younger finally relax now that he knew no one was suspicious of their outing. It wasn’t a whole three-sixty of emotion and whatnot, but Jinki was feeling better now that Minho was casted out of suspicion and could finally settle down.

Minho looked at Jinki as he pet Taemin’s hair, hesitating just a bit when looking into Jinki’s eyes.

  “No, thank you, Taemin.”

----Note~----

Hi.

I said I'd slow down, and that's what I did... but I didn't expect this long. xD

By the end of this chapter, no, Minho hasn't changed whatsoever. It's only relief he's feeling, that's it. So, he's gonna go right back in the future.

It's a little choppy, so my apologies. I'll try doing better in the next chapter yeah?

Hope you guys has a nice week. c:

Thank you to any views, comments, and subs. <3

~FlaMinhoe