He was separated from Kibum almost immediately, but that had been expected. He watched them take Kibum form his sight and then he was alone.

Kibum’s dried blood crackled as Minho flexed his fingers.

He had to call Jonghyun. 

And Taemin couldn’t know. At least not yet.

“Jonghyun,” Minho said, his voice cracking when Jonghyun picked up the phone.

“I’m a little busy right now, Minho” Jonghyun said, the bustling police station was easy to overhear through the line. “I have to go out any second. Can I call you back?”

“Jonghyun.”

His emotions got the best of him in that moment, leaning against the payphone that he’d barely managed to make it to. His cell phone was still at home and it was a miracle that he’d had enough change in his pocket to make the call to Jonghyun.

“What’s wrong?”

Minho sobbed loudly into the phone, trying to catch his breath as he said, “It’s Kibum. I’m at the hospital.”

The response was immediate. “Minho! What happened? What hospital?”

“There was a lot of blood,” Minho said, drawing in a shaky breath. “He wouldn’t wake up and I just … I need you here, Jonghyun.” He  had just managed the name of the hospital before he heard the dial tone. The tone was a comfort. Jonghyun was on his way. Soon Minho would have someone to lean on. He’d have someone to wait with.

Before Jonghyun arrived, which ended up being an impressive fourteen minutes later, Minho made his way to the bathroom. He looked like a mess, his hair ruined, and blood streaked up along his cheek and forehead where he’d touched himself after falling into Kibum’s blood. He made sure to wash his face and hands with icy cold water, hoping to wake himself from the nightmare he was clearly in.

“Tell me everything,” Jonghyun demanded the second he saw Minho, falling into the seat next to him without any grace. 

Minho explained the best he could, about coming back from the store and finding an unresponsive Kibum.

“What about the blood?”

Minho mimed a line from under his hairline at his temple, up to his eyebrow. “There was a long cut here on Kibum. I couldn’t see it at first because he’d fallen that way. The paramedic said head wounds bleed a lot. I don’t know why he passed out.”

Jonghyun hid his face in his hands and Minho slumped down in the chair. “I was so scared when you called.”

“Jonghyun?”

Tears in his eyes, Jonghyun choked out, “I love him, Minho.”

“I know.”

“I’ve loved him for years. I was just too scared to ruin what we had already with Taemin.”

Minho bumped his shoulder against Jonghyun’s. “I kind of figured.”

“What if …”

“That is my best friend,” Minho interrupted. “Kibum is my best friend, and I will not think that. I will not let you think it either.”

They lapsed into a kind of tranquil silence after that, Jonghyun’s eyes squeezed shut and Minho feeling overwhelmed with grief. The silence seemed to go on forever, which turned out to be a blessing.

He thought they’d have to wait forever before hearing any news.

“I knew something was wrong this morning.”

“Hm?” Jonghyun shifted towards him. “What’re you talking about?”

“I thought he was coming down with something,” Minho admitted, eyes locked onto the floor in front of him. “I should have made sure he was going to rest. I was distracted by Taemin’s exam.”

“.” Jonghyun shot to his feet, checking the time. “I’m supposed to pick up Taemin soon.”

Minho looked to the large clock across the waiting room. It was hard to imagine that it had been several hours since he’d left home with Taemin that morning. In fact it had been over three, with most of their time spent sitting in the waiting room, hoping for news.

Minho got to his feet, knees shaking. “I can go get him. I can take your car. You can wait here. Maybe they’ll tell you something.”

Jonghyun shook his head, almost looking angry. “You’re Key’s medical proxy. If anything happens, or there’s any progress, you’re the one they’ll come looking for.”

“I don’t want to tell Taemin.”

Jonghyun reasoned, “He’s already taken his test by now, Minho. And he’s not as fragile as we want to believe he is. He’s always been a tough kid. Now he’s just more of a tough man.”

“I know,” Minho said, realizing the truth in Jonghyun’s words. “But this is supposed to be the day we celebrate all the hard work he’s put in over the past year. He doesn’t deserve to come here and have to sit in this stupid waiting room for news about someone he loves.”

“He’ll be more upset if he doesn’t get to come sit in this stupid waiting room with us,” Jonghyun said.

“Okay,” Minho breathed out. “You’re right.”

“I’ll pick up Taemin,” Jonghyun said, keys in hand. “And I’ll bring him here. Wait, I’ll stop by your place first and get a few things.”

“Like what?” Minho frowned.

“Like clothes that aren’t all bloody.”

Minho looked down at himself, almost surprised to see the red stains at his knees from where he’d knelt down in the blood, and the smears of it on his shirt.  

“What about Onew?” Jonghyun asked. 

“Huh?” Minho shook himself out of a daze. “What’d you say about Jinki?”

“He knew about today, right? About the cake and celebrating with Taemin?”

Minho nodded almost absently.

“And you don’t think he isn’t going to get worried when you don’t show up to pick him up? He’ll probably just go over to your place anyway, and …”

Minho reached a hand out for Jonghyun. “Make Taemin stay in the car when you go to my place.”

“Why?”

Because the last thing he wanted seared into Taemin’s brain was the sight of Kibum’s blood cooling on the kitchen floor.

“Kibum fell in the kitchen.”

Jonghyun gave a strong nod. “I’ll keep him in the car. And I’ll call Onew on the way over there.  I’ll try to be as quick as I can.”

Slowly Minho sunk back into his seat. “Just be careful, especially with Taemin in the car.”

“You have your phone with you?” Jonghyun asked. “You called earlier from a pay phone. I didn’t recognize the number and almost didn’t pick up. I only barely recognized your voice.”

Minho shook his head. “Can you grab my phone, too? And lock up the place? I think I left the front door wide open when I left with Kibum.”

Jonghyun, who was always so sure and so confident and so strong, gave Minho a withered look. “If something happens while I’m gone, call me. Use the payphone again. Just … let me know.”

“I promise.”

Jonghyun was gone well over an hour and in that time Minho put his face in his hands and prayed. It was the first time he could remember praying in years. 

“Minho!”

Minho caught Taemin awkwardly in his arms when Jonghyun returned with the teen in tow.

“What happened?” Taemin demanded, his face pale and terrified. “Is Key okay? Why didn’t you come get me right away?”

Minho rubbed a heavy hand over Taemin’s back and tried to lighten the mood, telling him, “We both know how Kibum is.  He’s too tough to be down for long, and he’d kill the both of us if we let anything interrupt your test.”

“So no word yet?” Jonghyun asked. He had with him, as promised, both Minho’s phone and a spare set of clothing. As Minho shook his head and released Taemin to accept the items, Jonghyun commented quietly, “There was a lot of blood.”

“It’ll stain,” Minho said absently, distracted by Taemin’s wet cheeks. “I’ll rip up the floor when I get home.”

“Actually,” Jonghyun told him, “Onew is going to take care of that.”

“Huh?” Minho held the clothing to his chest almost like a lifeline. “What’s Jinki going to do?”

“I dropped Taemin’s key off at Onew’s place. He’s going to go over and get everything cleaned up for you. He insisted on it.”

“I don’t want him to …” Minho trailed off, a little ashamed. “He shouldn’t have to.”

Jonghyun shrugged. “He thought he would be in the way here. He didn’t want to intrude. So taking care of your place, and making it ready for Key to come home was something he insisted on doing. There was no talking him out of it, Minho. And he wants you to give him a call later on, for when it’s all clear for him to come to the hospital and check on Key. Maybe I could go pick him up and bring him by tomorrow morning?”

“Thanks,” Minho mumbled finding Jonghyun invaluable. “For everything.” He headed off to change his bloody clothing with heavy feet and one more long look towards the double doors that he knew led to Kibum.

They got news long after the noon hour had passed and the sun had set. Taemin was sleeping fitfully against Jonghyun’s shoulder and under the  florescent lights of the hospital waiting room, he could really see it.

“What are you looking at?” Jonghyun asked quietly, wary of waking Taemin. 

“You two,” Minho said just as softly. “You guys … you really look alike.”

Jonghyun looked down at Taemin’s sleep slack face and managed a half smile. “On good days we manage it.”

The doctor was with them fifteen minutes later, asking for Minho and waiting patiently as Taemin made several quick demands about Kibum’s condition.

“He’s stable,” the doctor said right away, providing relief. “That’s the most important part for you to remember. We’ve moved him to recovery and he’s sleeping well.”

“Recovery?” Minho asked with a frown. “He was in surgery? Why?”

“Why’d he faint?” Jonghyun interceded. “People don’t faint for no reason.”

The doctor turned to Minho and said, some surprise on his face, “Your friend is suffering from a perforated peptic ulcer. Unfortunately, by the time we got him into surgery there was some leakage, which is going to prolong his recovery. I don’t know how your friend managed to deal with the pain he must have been in. It had to be excruciating.”

“An ulcer?” Minho asked, his mouth going dry.

“I don’t know what an ulcer is,” Taemin said desperately.

Slowly, and with practice, the doctor explained as much to Taemin as the teen wanted to know, leaving out any medical terminology that would have gone over his head and speaking in a smooth tone. This doctor was good, Minho thought, and he was likely the only thing keeping Taemin from a full blown panic attack.

“What about the fainting?” Jonghyun pressed. 

“Probably from the pain,” the doctor guessed. “I mean excruciating when I say excruciating. When I opened him up and was able to see the damage, his abdominal cavity was contaminated with the intestinal track. There’s no doubt in my mind that your friend was barely able to move without severe pain, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he was vomiting blood or simply experiencing extreme nausea.”

“How could Kibum had hid this?” Minho asked, more to himself than the doctor. “Taemin and I live with him and we never …” Minho turned sharply to Taemin. “Did you know he was in pain?”

Taemin shook his head wordlessly. 

“I thought he was moving a little slow today, and he was pale,” Minho told the doctor, “but I thought it was the flu.”

The doctor posed, “He may have been attempting to hide his condition from you with pain killers, but in this situation it only exacerbated his situation.”

“And the blood?”

“The cut across his temple and forehead was quite deep,” the doctor confirmed. “It required stitches and there will no doubt be a scar when all is said and done, but that’s the worst of it. We replaced the blood he lost, started him on the essentials and despite the swelling, we expect everything to be fine.”

Jonghyun and Taemin were leaning against each other in relief as Minho asked, “The surgery went well? The ulcer is gone? Is Kibum really going to be okay?”

“He’s going to be fine,” the doctor repeated. 

“When can we see him?” Taemin asked, his arm looping through Minho’s crooked elbow. “We want to see him.”

“Tomorrow,” the doctor said. “He’s out cold from the surgery and likely won’t be awake until the morning anyway. If all looks well tomorrow, you should be able to see him one at a time when he’s in the recovery unit, and then in a larger group when he’s moved into a communal room for the rest of his stay here.”

As the doctor gave them some parting words and headed off to his next engagement, Minho sank wearily into a chair and scrubbed his hands over his face.

“How could you not know he was in that kind of pain? The kind of pain that makes someone pass out?”

At the anger in Jonghyun’s words Minho looked up suddenly, not expecting the aggression. “I don’t know.” 

“You live with him,” Jonghyun accused. “He’s your best friend. You’re supposed to be each other’s responsibility. Key would have noticed if you were hurting.”

“I wasn’t just ignoring him,” Minho said back harshly, “if that’s what you’re insinuating. I didn’t just decide to ignore him and pay more attention to Jinki or my cases or anything else. There wasn’t so much as the tiniest hint  that he was in pain. He never said anything and there were never any signs. Not until today.”

“He could have died,” Jonghyun snapped out. 

“Jonghyun,” Taemin started.

Jonghyun ignored him. “The doctor didn’t say that, but he didn’t have to. I know what perforation is. Key had emergency surgery today, and without it he wouldn’t be breathing. If you had stayed out any longer, or if this had gone on any longer, he’d be dead. Dead, Minho. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Stop it!” Taemin demanded, looking between them helplessly, his eyes wet.

“Do you think I’m taking this lightly?” Minho asked, voice rising. “I know what all those words mean and I’m very aware of how serious the situation is. So don’t come at me like this because you’re scared. We’re all scared, and you’re not the only one who loves him.  Don’t turn on me like this. Not now.”

Jonghyun spun on heel and called over his shoulder, “I need some air.”

“Why is he mad at you?” Taemin asked, voice cracking. He sat gingerly next to Minho. “Key hid this from us. We didn’t know. It isn’t your fault.”

Minho sighed. “I know, and Jonghyun knows that too. He’s just scared.”

Minho couldn’t help thinking back to that morning when he’d passed the bowl to Kibum for the  breakfast rice. He’d seen Kibum’s hand waver. He’d seen the weakness. Had it only been a small glimpse into the kind of pain Kibum had been hiding from all of them?

“Are we going to go home?” Taemin asked confused. “We can’t see Key tonight, right?”

“Do you want to go home?”

Taemin shook his head firmly.

“Then we stay,” Minho said. “We stay as close to Kibum as they let us.”

When Jonghyun came back to them not a word was said, but he had an apology in the form of several cartons of food. Minho ate his slowly, the food tasting like ash. It felt like nothing would ever taste good again. The feeling was overdramatic, but the look on Taemin’s face said at least he wasn’t alone with it.

“Well? How long? How long did you hide that you were in serious pain from all of us?” Those were the words Minho had for Kibum the next morning. 

As Kibum’s medical proxy he’d been the first allowed in to see Kibum when he woke in the morning, and it was looking like Taemin might not be allowed in at all. Overnight Kibum had spiked something of a fever and with Taemin still under age it was probably going to come down to how much aegyo he could muster up, and how receptive the nurses on call were to such a thing. 

“Good to see you, too.” Kibum’s voice was rough, scratchy and weak. It was almost enough to make Minho regret his aggressive words.

Almost.

With some patience, Minho asked, sitting in the chair next to Kibum’s bed, “Did the doctor come in and talk to you yet? Do you know how serious this was?”

“Ulcer?” Kibum offered, eyes closing with the effort it was taking for him to even hold a conversation. 

“Yes, an ulcer. You had an ulcer. And you never said a thing, even though the doctor tells us you had to be in unimaginable pain. You just suffered in pain and didn’t let anyone know until it got to the point that you couldn’t take it anymore. I found you …” Minho paused, losing himself for a moment. “What if it had been Taemin who came home from taking the most important test of his life to find you in a pool of blood in our kitchen? Kibum, what if I hadn’t gotten there in time? You had to be rushed into emergency surgery.”

“Minho.”

Minho leaned forwards, curling his fingers around the brace on Kibum’s bed. “You could have died. And for what?”

“I didn’t want to worry anyone,” Kibum said slowly, eyes opening. “I thought I could handle it.”

Minho repeated his earlier question, “How long were you feeling pain?”

With a wince, Kibum said a little uncertain, “A couple of months? Maybe three?”

Minho made a distressed sound. “Three months?”

“We were worried about so much,” Kibum explained, trying to catch his breath already. “Paying the bills. Taemin. Lots of things.”

“How would it be acceptable for you to ignore such severe pain for the sake of saving us some worry?”

“It wasn’t so bad at first.”

Hotly, Minho snapped, “It got bad, though, right?”

But as angry as he was at Kibum for hiding his health from everyone, Minho was more mad at himself. He’d taken the happy, healthy image Kibum had projected at them without a second doubt. He hadn’t looked after Kibum with any extra care. Maybe if he’d paid more attention, he would have caught the little things. The things Jonghyun had expected him to catch.

“I thought,” Kibum said, his fingers brushing Minho’s, “I just had to make it a little longer.”

Minho squeezed Kibum’s fingers. “I feel ashamed. You take care of Taemin, and even me, all the time. But no one took care of you.”

“I’ll be okay,” Kibum reminded. 

Minho cleared his throat and said, “I called your parents this morning. They’re  going to come up as soon as they can.”

Kibum gave Minho a face that spoke volumes as to how distant he was with his parents, almost identical to the kind of relationship Minho had with his own. “Can I see Taemin?”

“You have a fever,” Minho told him. “It’s not high, but it’s probably enough to get Taemin barred from seeing you because of his age. I might be able to smuggle in him if you promise to never do anything like this again.”

“I didn’t think it was going to end up like this,” Kibum said pointedly. “I was going to see a doctor after Taemin’s test.”

“Didn’t you think vomiting up blood was sign to go to the hospital right away?”

Kibum frowned. “How did you know?”

“The doctor said you probably were.”

“Taemin’s future--”

“Is never going to be more important than your health,” Minho reprimanded. “Do you get that? And don’t for a second think about saying that our jobs are more important, either. I’d close the business long before I’d let something like this ever happen to you again.”

Kibum gave Minho’s hand a final squeeze. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

With an encouraging smile, Minho stood. “You better mean that, Kibum. You know I’d be lost without you. That’s an unfortunate fact of life.”

Kibum managed a small laugh, wincing afterwards from the small bit he’d moved. “Leaving already?”

“You look tired, Minho observed. “Being sick is tiring. But before you fall asleep I thought I would let your boyfriend have a shot at seeing you for a couple of minutes.”

Kibum perked visibly. “Jonghyun is here?”

Minho nodded. “Since the very beginning, actually. His supervisor is probably going to eat him alive when he goes back to work, but he’s been here since you were brought in. Nothing Taemin or I could say would talk him into leaving.”

“Was he an absolute ?”

“Huh?” Minho’s eyebrows perked.

“He’s like that when he’s stressed,” Kibum said with a scoff. “He doesn’t mean to be, but he is, and I guess you’re all pretty stressed. Do I need to tell him off?”

“You need to get better,” Minho corrected. 

“Okay. And Minho? I won’t hide my health from you again.”

Jonghyun was already waiting in the hallway when Minho stepped out of Kibum’s room.

“How is he?” Jonghyun asked, not moving.

“Apparently he’s sorry.” Minho sighed and added, “He’s still out of it. He’s tired, too. What do you want me to say, Jonghyun? He can’t move without being in pain and he says he’s sorry, but I don’t believe him for a second.”

Jonghyun’s hand settling on his shoulder surprised Minho, as was the hug that he was tugged into after. Taemin was more of the affectionate type, but Minho hadn’t seen much in that way from Jonghyun.  However now they were hugging tightly and Jonghyun’s face was pressed into Minho’s neck tightly. 

“He’ll be okay,” Minho said, patting Jonghyun’s back a little awkwardly. “Nothing short of an act of god could take Kibum down. You know that. We’ll have to be gentle with him for a while, but he really is going to be okay.”

“Does he want to see me?” Jonghyun asked, pulling back.

“Of course he wants to see you.” Minho slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’ll go check on Taemin. Something tells me even he wasn’t able to argue his way back here.”

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Jonghyun promised, then slipped to Kibum’s room. 

Taemin was sitting with a petulant look on his face when Minho returned to him. That was expected. What was less expected was Jinki who was perched next to him, talking in such a low voice that Minho couldn’t make out what he was saying. Unwanted was Joon’s presence. 

“What are you doing here?” Minho asked, trying to keep a cap on his temper as he locked eyes with Joon.

“Minho!” Jinki caught Minho in his second hug of that morning. 

“Thanks for coming,” Minho said into Jinki’s ear, letting himself get lost in the feeling of his warm and comforting boyfriend. If he shut his eyes he could almost believe they were at home, and not at a hospital. “But what’s he doing here?”

Joon crossed is arms, an eyebrow arched. “How did you think Onew was going to get here? I drove him. You seemed content enough to leave him behind.”

“I didn’t leave him behind,” Minho said, clutching at Jinki. 

“Minho,” Jinki said quietly. “Please.”

Minho let go of Jinki as Taemin asked about Kibum’s condition. 

Almost diplomatically, Minho told them all, “He’s awake and okay. He’s in a lot of pain, but he had surgery, so it’s to be expected. Jonghyun is with him now.”

Taemin protested madly, “They said I can’t see him.”

Tiredly Minho nodded. “I know. I’ll see if I can talk to Kibum’s doctor about that. Maybe he can pull some strings or get you in there. Be patient, okay?”

With a chuckle, Joon told Taemin, “I’ll clear the coast for you, kid. I’m a master as getting into places I’m not supposed to. I’ll show you some tricks.”

“Really?” Taemin asked, excited.

“You,” Minho said venomously, jabbing a finger a Joon. “We need to talk. Now.”

“Minho,” Jinki tried again, reaching for Minho’s hand.

“No,” Minho snapped at him, shaking Jinki’s attempt off. “Now.”

“Is this where you tell me to get lost?” Joon asked when he and Minho were outside the hospital and only with each other for company. “Go on, then. Play the jealous boyfriend.”

Minho glared harshly at him. “I can’t control who Jinki decides to spend his time with. You’re important to him, and as much as I want to, I can’t force him to cut you out of his life. I am not that kind of person.”

“But I totally get under your skin. Admit it. I drive you crazy.”

“I think you are a dangerous criminal,” Minho cut back.

A surprised look cut across Joon’s face. “A criminal. You think I’m a criminal now?”

“I know that you’ve got ties to gangs and gang related activities.” Minho could feel his control slipping away. “I know you’re dirty. I can tell just by looking at you. You go in and out of this country illegally. You have a gang related tattoo on your neck. Your gestures, your behavior and your attitude all point to my conclusion. Just because I don’t have any proof, doesn’t mean I don’t know the truth. I’m not nearly as naïve as Jinki is.”

“Those are some pretty big accusations,” Joon rebuffed, finally looking serious. “But like you said, you have no proof. And if it’s my word against yours with Onew, I’m going to take my chances.”

Minho agreed, “I don’t have any proof, but I’m going to get some. Because I think you’re dangerous. I know you’re dangerous. And I’m not going to let you hurt someone I love. I’m going to be watching you, waiting for that second you slip up. You haven’t met my friend Jonghyun. He’s with the local police department. I’ve got him on speed dial for that moment. In fact, he’s already here at the hospital. Maybe you should come in and meet him.”

Darkly, Joon said, “You amuse me, Minho. I think you’re funny, in an apelike way. But don’t you think for a second think that you can threaten me. You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

“And do you think you’re the first degenerate to threaten me?”

“I think you know exactly what could happen if you press this. If you press me.”

“The same thing that almost happened to Jinki?” Minho asked, taking a daring step forward. 

“What?” Confusion laced Joon’s voice. “What happened to Onew?”

Minho scoffed. “You’re not fooling anyone. It might have looked like an accident, that car, but I know better. And I think you’re involved. I think you’re to blame. That’s what my gut tells me, and I trust my gut over your lies.”

“No,” Joon snapped. “What are you talking about? What happened to Onew?”

The sincerity in his words caught Minho a little off balance. “Jinki didn’t tell you? About the car? And someone breaking into his apartment?”

Joon shook his head, looking the least threatening Minho have ever seen. “Tell me.”

The thing was, Minho’s gut still said Joon was responsible. It wasn’t petty jealousy, or wishful thinking, but it was a truth. His gut said so. Still, Joon looked oblivious to the troubles that had plagued Jinki over the past month or so. And when Minho told him the details, the reaction on Joon’s face was genuine. Or he was the best actor on the planet.

“I have to go,” Joon said suddenly, turning on heel.

“What?” Minho called after him, giving chase. 

“I have to go,” Jon repeated. “Take Onew home for me?” He skidded to a stop, startling Minho as he spun back around. “No. Take him to your place. Keep him there.”

“What’s going on?” Minho didn’t like the glint in his eyes one bit. 

Joon shook his head. “Not your worry, pretty boy.”

“If it has to do with Jinki, it’s my worry. You must be under the belief that I’m a temporary thing. That maybe I’m going to get tired of Jinki or something. That’s not the case. I’m going to be here when you come around next year. If Jinki wants it, I’ll be here ten  years from now. And when we’re going gray, long after you’ve stopped being his most important person, I will still be here.”

Joon said simply, “I’ve accused you of being a jealous boyfriend. For the time being, how about you give being a protective boyfriend a shot.” Then he was gone, cutting across the parking lot and out of sight. 

“Were you fighting?” Jinki demanded the moment Minho was back inside. Jonghyun was still missing, but Taemin and Jinki had identical looks of worry on their faces.

Minho told Taemin sternly, “Don’t go near him again. If he’s in the same room, you leave that room. Are you paying attention to me, Taemin? I mean it.”

“Hey,” Jinki defended angrily. “That’s my cousin, Minho.”

“And I don’t have to like him, do I?” Minho argued back. He stopped and took a second to apologize to Jinki, then catch his breath. “Jinki, I know he’s important to you. I know you care about him. I’m not going to do anything to hurt that. But you have to understand, I don’t like him, and I don’t like the feeling I get in my gut when I’m around him. I’m not responsible for you. You’re an adult. But I am responsible for Taemin, even more now that Kibum is laid up. I have to look out for Taemin and make choices about his life based on what I think is best for him. Do you understand?”

Jinki looked so crestfallen that Minho wanted to take back his words immediately. 

“He’s my cousin,” Jinki said, trailing off. “I love him. Why can’t you accept him?”

“He didn’t seem bad,” Taemin said bluntly.

Minho told him, “You’re not even old enough to know about the kinds of people out there, Taemin.”

Jinki visibly recoiled. “Any my cousin is one of those?”

Yes, Minho wanted to say. A million times yes. But that would have broken Jinki’s heart, and maybe broken their relationship a little. So instead he made a show of running a hand through his hair and slumping his shoulders. To Jinki he promised, “I’ll try harder, okay? To like your cousin. I’ll try harder to treat him better.”

With disappointment clearly written on his face, Jinki asked, “Where is he? Where’s Joon?”

“He left. Suddenly,” Minho said, distracted by the vibration in his back pocket.

“Left?” Jinki wondered. “You didn’t run him off?”

Minho gave him a wounded look. “We were probably about to get into it, but I didn’t run him off. He also didn’t say where he was going. I’ll take you home later, or I’ll get Jonhyun to.”

Taemin piped up, going to his toes almost comically, “I’ve been practicing with … with Key. I could drive Onew home!”

Jinki’s eyes went wide.

“I don’t think so,” Minho said, patting Taemin on the shoulder. “I love both you and Jinki. I want you both to be breathing by the time Kibum gets out of here.”

As Taemin sulked off to try his hand once more at getting in to see Kibum, Minho found himself face to face with a clearly unhappy Jinki.

“Don’t give me that look, please,” Minho begged.

“What look am I supposed to give you?”

Usually Jinki was all smiles, his face as bright as his hair now was. Jinki was the kind of person who could light up a room, and Minho could vouch for that. So seeing him now, so angry and so upset, was absolutely heartbreaking. And unsettling. Maybe even frightening. 

“I’m sorry,” Minho said.

“You don’t mean that.”

Minho took Jinki by the hand and called out to Taemin, “You wait here for Jonghyun. Don’t leave for anything until I get back.” Then he was pulling Jinki along, letting their fingers squeeze against each other. 

He took Jinki to the nearby cafeteria where they could have a little privacy and let their voices be swallowed up by the people around them.

Sitting across from Jinki, taking in the sad look on his face, Minho promised him, “I am sorry. Maybe I’m not sorry about not liking your cousin, but I’m sorry about putting it on you. I’m so sorry you’re feeling the blunt of it, and that you’re getting hurt because of it. That’s the truth.”

“Joon,” Jinki began, something of a smile pulling at his lips, “he’s just like me. He doesn’t know how to share, either. Having to share me with you, it’s hard on him. He just won’t let anyone know. But he will be going back to China, and very soon. He only comes to visit once in a while, so I’m only asking for a bit of patience and endurance from you. You don’t need to like him, but you have to be nice to him. At least in front of me.”

“I thought I was good at sharing,” Minho said, reaching a hand out across the table. 

“I thought you were, too,” Jinki laughed, placing his hand in Minho’s.

Minho said, “You make me feel greedy. It’s not that I don’t want to share you with anyone, it’s that it feels like I might lose you if I do.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jinki pointed out. “And if I tell you not to be threatened by someone, you have to believe me. Our relationships has to have trust. I’ll trust you, if you trust me.”

“What have you got to be worried about?” Minho wondered. 

Jinki ached and eyebrow. “Don’t even try it, Minho. I’ve spent enough time at your place of employment now to know how many attractive people come through those doors.”

“But I don’t love any of them,” Minho shrugged. “And I do love you.”

Maybe that was the problem. Minho had never been more sure of his feelings for Jinki. He’d never been more sure that Jinki was the person he wanted to grow old with. He loved Jinki. But Jinki had never said the words back. Minho didn’t doubt he cared, and they were tumbling head first into the kind of relationship that stood the test of time, but the words hadn’t come. For as many times as Minho had said them, he’d never heard them back.

It seemed wrong to ask why. They were the kind of words that were supposed to come on their own time, when  the feelings were there to back them up. 

“I would never betray you,” Jinki said, his other  hand coming up to enfold Minho’s. 

No, Minho supposed Jinki wasn’t the sort to cheat.

“I know.”

“Then don’t feel insecure. And don’t doubt me. Especially not with my cousin.”

“I’m sorry,” Minho said, and this time it rang  true. 

Jinki teased, “You’re lucky I’m the forgiving type.”

Minho got them each a tray of food after that. It was easy to predict that Jonghyun would stay with Kibum until he fell asleep, or maybe even after. And there wasn’t much trouble Taemin could get into in a hospital. That meant Minho could actually have some quality time with Jinki, even if it was in a cafeteria.

“Why does your phone keep going off?” Jinki asked, picking at his rice. “Is it something important?”

Minho had set his phone on the table between them and it was vibrating again, shaking around before the call went to voicemail. 

“It’s work related,” Minho said simply.

Jinki reached for the phone and turned it towards him so he could see the display. “I didn’t think you took work calls on your personal number.”

“I don’t.”

“Then …” Jinki handed the phone over. 

Minho admitted, “It’s one of my clients from the missing person case I’m working. I gave my personal line to the client because … well, I don’t really know why. Maybe I’m getting too involved in the case. I told the client to call with any important information, but with Kibum just getting out of surgery I can’t even begin to think about work.”

“It must be so hard to work those types of cases.” Jinki tapped the surface of the phone. “And it’s not necessarily a bad thing to care. It’s one of my favorite things about you, you know. I like that you care as much as you do about other people.”

“There’s a difference, though, between caring and getting too involved. This is exactly the reason Kibum and I hate these cases.”

“But you continue to take them,” Jinki said. “Why?”

With his face feeling a little hot, Minho said, “The money. I know, that sounds horrible, and I don’t mean it to, but it’s the truth. As much as I want to help these people find their loved ones, it’s also about the money. Lately Kibum and I have been getting a lot of business, but it isn’t typical, and it’ll drop off eventually. People who come to us with missing persons usually understand the amount of money that has to be put in. It isn’t cheap to hunt down someone, or what happened to them. Sometimes that money is the only think keeping Taemin fed, because more than once Kibum and I have come dangerously close to not being able to.”

Jinki leaned forward on his elbow, his palm cradling his chin. “You mentioned a while ago that you won’t let Key work these cases. Why not? It seems like you’d be able to cover twice the ground with both of you involved. You told me the recovery rate is very low, but wouldn’t it increase with a second person?”

“It would,” Minho agreed. 

“Then why?”

Minho couldn’t help being swayed by the earnest look on Jinki’s face. He proposed, “If I tell you, you have to promise never to let him know that you know. You can’t ever say anything to him. The reason … it hits close to home, and it would hurt him if you knew.”

Jinki nodded forcefully. “Of course not. I swear it to you.”

As delicately as he could manage it, Minho said, “Kibum and I weren’t exactly natural friends, no matter what our relationship now suggests.  We didn’t get along at all, at first. But my older brother and his older sister were very close. They were best friends, and even as kids they had impossible crushes on each other. By the time they were teens and Kibum and I were old enough to understand their dynamic, we just decided it was easier to get along and pretend to be the brothers we were eventually going to be.”

“I didn’t know Key had an older sister.”

Minho folded his hands in front of him. “He used to.”

Jinki’s voice was thick as he suggested, “Something happened to her. She … went missing?”

“Yeah.” Minho hated the memories that were resurfacing, of spending endless days combing the streets for her, putting up missing posters, begging  and pleading for her safe return, and ultimately being told by the police that they were giving up looking. “Kibum and I were twelve and we didn’t exactly need a babysitter or anything, but both our families were overprotective, so Kibum’s sister usually came and walked home with us. My brother had an after school job and he was never there, but she was. Then one day she just didn’t show up.”

“I’m sorry, Minho.”

Minho said, “The first hours after abduction are the most important. But we didn’t report her missing for almost five. We thought she’d forgotten about us or gone off with her friends. It had happened before, so we went home without her and it wasn’t until it was dark that we realized something was wrong. We spent months looking for her, trusting the police, but after a while they gave up and then they told us to do the same.”

“That’s terrible,” Jinki said, pressing a hand across his mouth. “Poor Key. So no one ever … found her?”

“Not alive,” Minho said slowly. He cleared his throat and rushed to say, “Kibum won’t even talk about her now. I think it’s just too painful and he wants to forget how much it hurts. So he doesn’t tell people about her, he tries not to remember, and he doesn’t go home to visit his parents. He does everything he can to distance himself from her memory. I guess the only reason we’re still friends is because he tried to shake me off and I wouldn’t let go. I can be stubborn when I want to be.”

“That’s why Key isn’t allowed to look for missing people?”

“Well,” Minho allowed himself to chuckle, “no one can allow or disallow Kibum to do anything. God help the person who tries to tell him what to do. But I do my best to keep those cases away from him. I take them before he can get to them, or I send the clients away before he even knows why they’re interested in our services. The last case he took about a missing girl nearly ran him into the ground. He stopped eating and sleeping and we never found a clue of her. So they’re off limits to him, as far as I’m concerned. I’m just worried I’m starting to end up like Kibum with these cases. I’m too attached.”

Jinki gestured once more at Minho’s phone. “I doubt your client would be calling if they hadn’t actually found something. You said you almost never find the missing people, but what if there’s information on the other end of that call which helps you find at least one? You should take it.”

“Kibum--”

“Is either dead to the world sleeping right now,” Jinki said, “or completely distracted by Jonghyun. I’m just guessing here, but Kibum would probably want you to solve the case if you could.”

Minho shook his head. “I’m not going to find this kid, Leo. He’s gone.  And it looks like he did it willingly. What business do I have looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found?”

“Do you know that for sure, or is it just what it looks like?”

Minho didn’t know for sure, and shrugged. “I follow the evidence, and my gut.”

Jinki posed, “If I decided to just up and disappear, and you could find me, wouldn’t you want to? Wouldn’t you deserve some answers?”

Minho slid his fingers across the screen, unlocking the phone. He eyed his voicemail count, realizing there were even more than he’d anticipated.  If he listened to even one of them, he knew he’d be guilt ridden and it would be impossible not to return a call.

“Minho?”

Minho looked up and instinctively returned the big smile that Jinki had for him. “What?”

“If you can help someone you should.  And if I was missing, even if it was my choice to go, in the end I think I’d want you to at least look for me.”

Minho worried his bottom lip with his teeth for a minute, then nodded and stood. “Excuse me for a minute.”