A/N: A very happy birthday to Valerie (Caline), who encouraged me to update this story faster <3 I wrote this late last night and I haven't had a chance to edit or proof-read it yet, so I hope it's okay ^.^

          Taemin was suddenly wide awake. He sat up slowly, his limbs stiff from the awkward position he had slept in, and stretched his arms out. Daylight filtered in through the blinds and he could hear the first signs of morning traffic from outside, but when he looked at the clock on the wall he was surprised to see that it was only five a.m. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been up that early, but he wasn’t tired in the least. Instinctively he got up from the sofa and got dressed; Minho’s clothes, of course, which he would have to put up with wearing until he was ready to collect his own from Key’s house.

          His stomach grumbled angrily and he tiptoed into the kitchen, being as quiet as possible so as not to wake Minho. He poured himself a bowl of cereal, adding milk from the fridge, and sat down at the table, deep in thought. He tried to go over the previous night’s events in his head.

          Taemin had kissed Minho and Minho had rejected him.  Did that mean Minho didn’t feel the same way about him anymore? He’d seemed so caring this past week, taking Taemin home from the hospital and making him feel welcome in his apartment; Taemin had assumed he must still feel some affection for him. Unless Minho was just a good person, and that affection had actually been nothing but pity? Maybe it had all been in Taemin’s head; wishful thinking on his part because Minho was so perfect and kind and handsome, and exactly what Taemin needed right now. After all, what could someone like Minho possibly like about a skinny 15-year-old kid like Taemin?

          And yet it had all seemed so real; the way Minho had looked into his eyes that night; the way Minho’s lips had met his; Minho’s sincerity as he confessed to liking the younger boy. To Taemin, it had been more real than anything he had ever experienced in his life. But he had no way of knowing whether it had been the same for Minho – and why would it have? Because Minho, with his age and irresistible good looks, had surely had better kisses. Taemin wasn’t stupid enough to believe in love at first sight.

          So what exactly was the pain in his chest trying to tell him?

          Then of course there was the other thing that had happened that night, the thing Taemin was more reluctant to think about. The thing that had killed his best friend and torn his life apart. He didn’t really believe Minho had anything to do with it…but his suspicions from the night before had stayed in his mind and grown into nightmares and then real fears; he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to let them go. He probably just needed someone to blame, he told himself, and Minho was the easiest – and only – target. After all, he had no proof that Minho was involved in the incident, no reason at all to be suspicious. But something told him that everything had gone too smoothly, that everything was too perfect in his little bubble that was separate from the rest of the world, in which Taemin and Minho were the only  two people that existed. This kind of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to Taemin; this sudden romance that usually happened in movies, right before something went badly wrong. And yet here he was. Of course there had been the explosion, but Taemin didn’t think his problems could be over. He was convinced there must be something more, something he was completely oblivious to…and if it wasn’t to do with Minho, then what else could it be?

          Taemin stood up suddenly. He needed to clear his head. Get out of the apartment, away from Minho, and be by himself. Somewhere where he could think straight and calm himself down…yes, that was it. He put his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, more reassured now that he had a plan – at least for now. His trainers were sitting in the corridor where he’d left them, and he slipped them on, not bothering to take a key as he shut the door behind him. It was a weekend, after all, Minho wasn’t likely to leave the apartment early.

          As soon as he was out in the open he froze. He hadn’t been out since he’d returned from the hospital and he was suddenly nervous; he wasn’t even confident he knew which part of Seoul the apartment was in. Where was he planning to go? What was he going to do at half past five in the morning? He hadn’t thought this through at all, and for a moment he was tempted to turn around and go back to bed. But he wasn’t a little kid any more, he told himself. He needed some space and this was the only way to get it. He took a deep breath and turned right, walking down the deserted street with his head down and his hands in the pockets of Minho’s scruffy old jeans, resisting the urge to close his eyes.

          He was so focused on clearing his thoughts that he didn’t notice the figure coming from the opposite direction and bumped into him hard. He stopped quickly and put out his hand to steady the other person, who had stumbled slightly, and realised that it was a young guy around the same age as himself, probably a little older. He was handsome with big eyes and floppy brown hair; the exact same colour as Minho’s. A lump formed in his throat as he continued to stare at the boy’s hair, saying nothing.

          “Hey dude, watch where you’re going!” said the stranger, and then when Taemin didn’t reply he added jokingly, “Take a picture, why don’t you? It’ll last longer.”

          “S-sorry,” Taemin stuttered when he could finally speak. “I’m really sorry.”

          The boy obviously sensed Taemin’s embarrassment and grinned in a friendly way. “No worries, kid. My name’s Lee Joon. What’s a little thing like you doing out at this time anyway ? Rough night?”

          “I…you could say that.”

          “So you gonna tell me your name or did your folks not give you one of those?”

          “I’m…Taemin. L-Lee Taemin.”

          “Nice to meet you, Lee Taemin,” Joon said, the exact same words as Minho had used. There it was again, that unexplainable pain in his chest. “So where are you headed so early in the morning?”

          “I’m not exactly sure. I just needed somewhere to think.”

          It was weird; he didn’t want to admit anything to a stranger he’d just met, but Joon’s infectious friendliness made him want to tell the older boy everything. This was something Taemin had never experienced; he usually kept himself to himself unless he absolutely couldn’t. Kibum had been the only one who could get him to talk about his personal life. Well, Kibum and Minho, that is.

          “I know the perfect place!” Joon exclaimed with enthusiasm and took hold of his hand, leading him quickly down the street and around a corner. It seemed like they’d been walking for no more than five minutes, neither saying a word, before Joon finally came to a halt. Taemin looked up; they were standing in front of a small cosy-looking café with a bright, clean window and an interior filled with brown leather sofas and small tables. “Do you like coffee?” the older boy said as he opened the door and led the way in. “I’ll buy you some. Or how about hot chocolate?”

         “Coffee’s fine,” Taemin answered shyly. “Thanks, hyung.”

         “Don’t mention it, kiddo.” Joon strode confidently up to the counter, which was deserted, Taemin noticed. “Ahjumma? It’s me, Joonie!” he called out. After about a minute an old woman emerged from a back door behind the counter, smiling. Taemin bowed politely.

          “Joon-ah, you always come so early! Who’s your friend?” she asked kindly.

          “Ahhh…this is Lee Taemin. We just met. He needed someplace to think so I brought him here.”

          “Well, you’re welcome to do all the thinking you want here, Taemin-ah,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “It’s lovely to meet you. Our Joonie’s been coming here for three years now and he’s never brought a friend with him. You must be pretty special.”

          “It’s n-nice to meet you too,” Taemin said, bowing again.

          “Please take a seat, wherever you like,” she said. “I’ll bring you some coffee on the house. You can’t survive without it this early in the morning.”

          Joon led him to a particularly comfy-looking sofa near the window and they waited until the kindly ahjumma brought them two steaming mugs of coffee and two chocolate muffins. Taemin had only had a small bowl of cereal that morning and his mouth watered. He thanked the woman, offering to pay, but she insisted on giving it to them for free. Joon was like a son to her, she said, and besides it was nice to have some company in the early hours before other customers started arriving.

          They talked for almost an hour, and Taemin found that he really enjoyed having a stranger’s company after being shut away from the outside world for more than a week. They talked about school, the supermarket where Joon worked, music they liked and TV programmes they’d watched. They talked about everything, it seemed to Taemin, apart from what really mattered. He didn’t mention the party, or the explosion, or Minho. How could he, when he could barely get it straight in his own head?

          It was over way too soon as Joon announced regretfully that he had to leave for work. “Give me your phone number and I’ll call you, okay?” he said cheerfully, and Taemin did it gladly, happy for once in his life that he’d made a new friend. “Look, are you going to be okay here, on your own? I mean you seemed pretty down about something before…”

          “I’ll be fine, hyung, really. You go to work.”

          “Well, if you say so. Ahjumma, look after him, okay?”

          “Of course,” said the old woman who was busying herself with something behind the counter. “Have a nice day, Joon-ah!”

          As soon as his new friend waved goodbye, the weight that had been temporarily lifted from Taemin’s chest reappeared. He knew he couldn’t ignore what had happened forever but he didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t ready to go back and face Minho again.

          After twenty minutes, the ahjumma took pity on him and said gently, “You look a little lost, Taemin-ah. Why don’t I switch on the television?”

          She took his silence as a yes and picked up a remote from one of the tables, switching on a small, ancient looking TV on a shelf on the wall furthest from Taemin. All he could see was static to start with but the picture slowly became clearer. It seemed to be showing the news.

          Taemin wasn’t paying much attention at first, too absorbed in his own thoughts to care about the trivial early morning news stories. But after a while he heard something that caught his attention and sat up abruptly.

          “…are still continuing the investigation into the explosion that killed over one hundred students at a party last Saturday. So far the police have not revealed anything and parents, family members and friends of the victims are eager for information as to who set off the deadly bomb. The owner of the house, the high-standing government official Mr. Kim Jung Woo, has refused to comment on the shocking tragedy that left only two survivors…”

          Taemin stood up abruptly, unable to listen anymore. He walked out of the café as quickly as he could, ignoring the old ahjumma’s worried shout and the tears pricking his eyes. He carried on walking down the street, not towards Minho’s apartment but away from it, no idea where he was going but knowing that if he stopped then he’d be forced to think about the one thing he was trying to block out of his head.

          He walked until he got to the centre of town. It was much busier now as people started to wake up and start their day, oblivious to him and what he was thinking. Taemin liked it better this way; the busier it was the easier it was for him to lose himself in the crowd and stop focusing on his own thoughts. He watched cars and buses go by and stared as business owners opened up their shops and offices for the day; he watched as people walked past him; an impatient mother and her small child crying for sweets; an elderly man with a scar on his face, walking his tiny sausage-dog; two teenage girls gossiping about the latest idol group’s debut – what was it Key-hyung had said about them? Boring dance moves and an overly-cute image, they would never make it big. No, no, no. He couldn’t think about that. He had to focus on them. A brother and sister squabbling over where to go for breakfast. A pre-school kid chasing pigeons and getting scolded by his father. If he could concentrate on their problems then it would be so much easier to forget his.

          When he got bored of walking around outside, he entered a shopping mall and walked around the shops, starting with a computer game store. He examined all of the new games carefully, deciding in his head which ones he would buy if he had the money. A shop assistant directed him to the back of the shop where he could try out one of the games for himself on a big TV screen. It was surprisingly addictive and he ended up spending over half an hour there. He figured it was the best way to kill time; he hadn’t played a game like that in ages and he was a bit rusty, but that meant he had to concentrate twice as hard which prevented him from thinking about anything else. Taemin was getting quite good at this, blocking stuff out of his head.

          There weren’t many other shops he wanted to look at so he ended up wandering around aimlessly again, occasionally stopping to take a look at something that took his interest. He went into a retro toy shop for old times’ sake, and the jewellery shop to look at the fancy watches he’d always admired. When I’m really rich, he used to say to himself, I’ll buy one of those for myself and everyone I know. He wouldn’t have to buy very many now, he realised. Still, maybe Lee Joon would like one. And the ahjumma at the café.

          When it got to midday, the mobile phone in his pocket rang. Taemin jumped; it had been so long since he’d heard his ringtone. Not bothering to check the caller ID, he answered, “Hello?”

          “Taemin? Thank God. It’s Minho. Where the hell are you?”

          “I’m in the shopping mall, of course,” he answered calmly, without thinking. He was so shocked to hear Minho’s voice; he had been trying so hard to block everything from his mind that he had almost forgotten the older boy existed.

          “What are you…?” Minho started to ask, sounding exasperated. “You know what, never mind. I’m coming to get you.”

          “What? Hyung-”

          But it was too late; Minho had hung up. And after what seemed like seconds, but must have been at least twenty minutes, Taemin heard a voice from behind calling his name. He turned to see Minho coming towards him. Before he knew it, Minho’s arms were wrapped around him in a tight hug and his voice was in the younger boy’s ear.

          “You idiot, do you have any idea how worried I was when you didn’t even leave a note?” Minho said, pulling back and shaking him gently.

          “I…you never told me where you keep the paper and pens.” Taemin replied in a whisper, his mind still blank. Minho chuckled but there was still concern on his face.

          “Taemin-ah…why did you go out by yourself? Was it because of last night?” he said, not waiting for Taemin’s reply as he continued, “Because if it was then I’m really sorry. Really. I honestly didn’t mean to be so abrupt.”

          Taemin still didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Minho was being too nice to him…it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Too perfect. He wished the older boy would go away and leave him alone, but at the same time he wanted Minho to hold him close and never let go.

          But it wasn’t his decision to make, it seemed, as Minho leaned in to kiss him. It was an even more tender, loving kiss than before and Taemin’s heart threatened to explode as he felt Minho’s warm lips on his, caressing them. He couldn’t move; he was still frozen to the spot, his eyes firmly shut. It can’t be real, he told himself again and again. It’s too perfect. Minho pulled away slowly, regretfully, and smiled, his deep brown eyes gazing into Taemin’s as if he could see right through him.

          “Don’t ever leave me again, Lee Taemin,” he said quietly, a private instruction meant for Taemin alone. “Please.”

          “I-I won’t...” Taemin said. He could do nothing but obey. He didn’t think he could leave Minho, even if he wanted to. Right now it just wasn’t physically possible.

          “Because I care about you. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. Do you understand?”

          “I…yes.” Taemin was almost breathless now, unable to prevent his eyes filling with tears. He didn’t know why…he almost never cried.

          “Right, then,” Minho said more loudly, back to his usual self. “Let’s go home and have some lunch, yes?”

          And once again he didn’t wait for Taemin’s consent as he took the younger’s hand in his own warm one and led him away, leaving a still shell-shocked Taemin to follow meekly behind.

          Yes, Minho was way too perfect…but maybe perfect wasn’t such a bad thing after all.