Taemin knew it would be stupid to confront Minho. He knew it would be a waste of time, might even be dangerous. But he didn't care, not now, not after what he'd just seen. The envelope was hidden in the inside pocket of his coat and he could feel it there, taunting him, telling him the truth that he'd avoided until that moment. It confirmed all of his suspicions; now all that was left was to take action.

 

             So he got on another bus. This time, he knew exactly where it was going to take him. What would happen when he got there was a different matter entirely.

 

 

          The door to the apartment opened. Minho didn't look angry, as he had the last time they'd seen each other. His expression when Taemin showed up was, more than anything, relieved.

 

 

          “Tae,” he said, his voice low and careful. They stood in the entrance hallway, Taemin as far away from Minho in the small space as possible. “Taemin-ah. I'm really sorry.”

 

 

          The younger boy was confused, for a second. “Sorry for what?”

 

 

          “For the last time we saw each other. For what I said. You don't know how worried I've been...”

 

 

         “Oh,” Taemin said slowly, his expression darkening. “You were worried? I'm sorry. It must've been awful.”

 

 

          “I know I was wrong, it's just that I really...” Minho paused, running his fingers through his dark, tangled hair. “I really care about you, Taemin.”

 

 

          “You want to know who I really cared about?” he asked, his voice surprisingly calm when all he wanted to do was scream at the person stood before him. “My best friend. Kim Kibum.”

 

 

          “I...I know.” Minho looked uncomfortable. He should be.

 

 

          “Do you?” said Taemin. “Do you really? Do you know how it felt to lose him, to say goodbye to him casually at some party and then wake up in a hospital to find out he's dead? Of course you don't. You'll never know. And I'll never see Key-hyung again, thanks to that ing bomb.”

 

 

          Minho swallowed and moved forward, wrapping his arms around Taemin in the attempt to hug him, the only form of comfort he could give. Taemin growled and shoved him away roughly. “Don't touch me!” he hissed.

 

 

          Taemin was shaking now, unable to control his anger. “Why did you do it, Minho? Tell me; I want to know. Was it money? Or are you really some crazy psychopath, like they're saying on TV?”

 

 

         He tilted his head up to look Minho in the eye and the older boy stared back, his face extremely pale. “I...I don't know what you're talking about...” he managed to choke out.

 

 

          “I can't believe you're trying to deny it. I found this,” Taemin said, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the folded brown envelope. He took out the second sheet of paper and held it up for Minho to see. “I believe it belongs to you.”

 

 

          “Oh God,” Minho said. “God...that's not what it looks like, I swear, Taemin...” he put his hands on each of the younger boy's shoulders, as gently as he could. “You have to believe me.”

 

 

          Taemin's eyes flashed with anger and he let the envelope, along with its contents, fall to the floor. “I said...don't...touch me...” he snarled, clenching his hands into fists. It wasn't long before his right hand found Minho's face, connecting hard with the taller boy's cheek and forcing him stagger backwards.

 

 

          And then Taemin was practically on top of Minho, hitting and biting and kicking, his only aim to hurt the other as much as he'd hurt Taemin. He let out several grunts of frustration as he ripped at Minho's clothes, hair, skin, his eyes unfocused and his mind quickly losing control. To his surprise Minho did very little to fight back, letting Taemin attack him without stopping until the younger boy grew tired, his punches more hesitant, wondering why Minho didn't even try and protect himself.

 

 

          Eventually Minho scrambled to his feet and his look was more determined, more fierce. Taemin tried to lash out again but this time Minho stopped him, grabbing both of his wrists and pinning him against the wall. It was no use struggling; Minho was incredibly strong when he wanted to be and Taemin realised that he was now completely at the older boy's mercy. They were so close now that their faces were almost touching, and Taemin could feel Minho's warm breath on his face.

 

 

          “Will you just listen already?” he demanded, his face flushed. “It wasn't me. That envelope has my name on it, but it was intended for someone else and I've never seen it before in my life. Look, Taemin, I lied to you, okay? Or rather, I just didn't tell you the whole truth. And I'm sorry. But you have to believe me when I say it wasn't me that killed your friend, or any of those people.”

 

 

          “How am I supposed to believe you?” Taemin whispered, his breathing shallow, his heartbeat increasing rapidly. “You were one of two survivors at that party. I don't know anything about your past. And now this envelope...you've got to admit it's some coincidence. If it wasn't you, then who...?”

 

 

          He waited for an answer but it seemed Minho hadn't been listening. The older boy leaned in closer and brought his lips down on Taemin's roughly, urgently, his tongue forcing entry into the other's mouth and running its way along his smooth, milky white teeth. Taemin let out a soft whimper of protest but made no move to stop him, his body paralysed half from fear, half – not that he'd ever admit it – from desire. Still pinning him to the wall, Minho's hands roamed from Taemin's wrists to his slim waist, grazing the soft skin of his torso as he lifted the hem of the younger boy's shirt. Taemin moaned involuntarily and then tensed, his eyes widening as he came to his senses and began to struggle in Minho's strong grip.

 

 

          Minho withdrew quickly and took a step backwards, his gaze still intense as he locked eyes with Taemin once again. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much and I know you don't care and you don't love me back but I swear, Taemin, I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I wish I could tell you the truth but I can't...believe me when I say that the truth would hurt you more than any lie. All I can say is that I didn't plant that bomb. I know it's hard and I don't expect you to believe me straight away but I need you to trust me, okay? Can you do that?”

 

          He hadn't expected an answer immediately but he didn't think Taemin would completely ignore his plea. He certainly hadn't expected him to turn around and leave so soon.

 

          “W-where are you going?”

 

 

          “Where do you think?” Taemin retorted harshly. “I'm going to the police station. You think you can kiss me, confess your love to me, and I'll just melt into your arms? Forget everything?”

 

 

          “Taemin-ah...”

 

 

          “Don't ever say my name like that again. I hate you, Choi Minho.”

 

 

          And Minho watched the younger boy leave, knowing that nothing in the world he could say now would stop him. As soon as the door closed behind Taemin he crumpled to the floor, unable to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks as he realised the gravity of what was about to happen.

 

_

 

 

          “And this piece of evidence, you found it...where exactly?”

 

 

          “W-We've been through this already,” Taemin said shakily, avoiding the investigator's gaze. He was in some sort of interrogation room, with bright fluorescent lighting and a concrete floor. Seated across from him at the wooden table was a stern-faced detective in his thirties and his partner, a young woman who looked slightly more sympathetic. It was she that spoke next.

 

 

          “We need to clarify it for the recording,” she said gently. “If you could just go through it again?”

 

 

          “I found it at the site of the bombing. In the back garden.”

 

 

          “And how did you come to be there?” asked the man, Detective Kim. “The area was heavily guarded by our own policemen, and quite far away from where you claim to be staying at the moment.”

 

 

          “I slipped past them,” Taemin said, as if it was obvious.

 

 

          “I see. So you just happened to slip past more than five policemen, make your way through the remains of the house and discover an envelope that every single one of our best men had missed after hours of searching.”

 

 

          “Yes,” he said, before running his fingers through his hair nervously. What exactly were they getting at?

 

 

          “And this Choi Minho,” the female, Detective Cho, said. “You say you know him personally?”

 

 

          “Yes. I met him on the night of the party and he took me home with him once I was released from hospital.”

 

 

          “What was your relationship, exactly?”

 

 

          Taemin swallowed and paused before answering. “He was a stranger to me. I guess you could say we became friends when I started living with him...but I moved out pretty soon afterwards.”

 

 

          “So there was nothing, shall we say, romantic between the two of you?”

 

 

          “Does it matter?”

 

 

          “It was just a question, you don't have to answer it,” she said calmly, to the apparent irritation of her partner. “Taemin-ssi, we're here to help you. Don't be nervous.”

 

 

          He nodded once and gave her a small, grateful smile. “We kissed a couple of times. Nothing more than that.”

 

 

          “So – and don't take this the wrong way – he never took advantage of you?”

 

 

          He thought briefly back to their last meeting, but decided it wasn't worth mentioning. “No,” he finally answered.

 

 

          “Right. Now, my colleague and I would like to ask you a couple of questions about the night of Kim Heechul's house party. If you could try to remember the details as accurately as possible...”

 

 

          And so it went on for another hour and a half, the Detectives pressing him for answers over and over again in an attempt to piece together his story. To say Taemin was relieved when they finally released him was an understatement; he could've cried for the second time that day as he was led back down the long corridor into a small waiting room. He nearly did cry when Detective Cho asked him briefly if he'd be okay by himself and then left him alone in the room, shutting the creaky door behind her. Instead he put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to get a grip, trying not to think about what he'd just told the police and what would happen as a result. More precisely, what would happen to Minho.

 

 

          He'd done the right thing, though, that he was certain of. He'd done the right thing for Key, and for Jonghyun, and Onew, and all  the others...

 

 

          It seemed like a very long time had passed before the door finally opened and the male Detective entered. “There's someone here to collect you,” he informed Taemin in a bored, uninterested manner.

 

 

          Taemin looked up, surprised. “W-What? Who?”

 

 

          But apparently the detective didn't know, or more likely couldn't be bothered to say, and he merely turned to walk back down the corridor. Taemin followed a moment later, hurrying to keep up with the man's long strides. After turning a couple of corners they arrived at the front desk, where Taemin remembered waiting just two hours before.

 

 

          He let out a small gasp as a familiar person came into view.

 

 

          “H-Hyung?”

 

 

          “Hey, Taemin-ah,” Taesun said gently, smiling at the younger boy. He moved forwards and wrapped his arms firmly around Taemin in a comforting hug, and this time Taemin didn't protest or move away because God knew he needed someone right now and Taesun was his brother, after all. “I heard everything. I'm so sorry,” he soothed as Taemin finally let the tears fall, his face buried in the soft fabric of his brother's shirt.

 

 

          They drove home in relative silence (“Hyung, since when did you have a car?” Taemin asked, raising his eyebrows at the silver Ford Fiesta. “Since I bought it today,” replied Taesun, and no more was said on the subject, though Taemin did wonder where his brother could've found the money so soon after his return to Korea). It wasn't that they were uncomfortable, just that they didn't have much to say to each other. But Taesun was glad that he seemed to be back in Taemin's good books and Taemin was just happy to have his older brother back.

 

 

          “What do you want to eat?” asked Taesun once they were home. “I didn't have time to go food shopping today, but we could order in if you're hungry...”

 

 

          Taemin looked at his watch and as soon as he saw what time it was his stomach rumbled loudly. He hadn't eaten since the night before and it was already starting to get dark outside. “Hyung,” he said, after he'd thought for a moment. “I want pizza!”

 

 

          “Aigo, so cute,” chuckled Taesun, earning himself a scowl and a playful punch from his brother. “Why don't you go and see if there are any good movies on TV? I'll order the food.”

 

 

          They settled on a comedy-slash-action film that neither of them found particularly funny but they laughed at it anyway, because they were in a good mood and it was just the two of them and it made them forget about everything else. The food came and Taemin had never seen so much pizza in his life, but it turned out Taesun hadn't over-ordered at all because the two brothers ate every last bite and still had room to polish off the bottle of banana milk Taesun always kept in the fridge as a treat.

 

 

          Taesun's phone rang halfway through the second film they picked – a quieter, calmer one – and he let the shrill ringtone play out nearly five times, too lazy to answer, before giving up and and checking the caller ID. “,” he muttered, sitting up straight. His expression was suddenly alert and slightly nervous-looking. “I'd better get this.”

 

 

          Taemin merely nodded, eyes fixed on the screen, but as soon as he looked up at his brother's face he was worried. What – or who - could've got his brother so worked up all of a sudden? He blinked as Taesun left the room with a whispered, “Y-Yeoboseyo?” into his phone.

 

 

          Slowly, Taemin got up from his position on the sofa and tiptoed towards the entrance of the room, hiding himself just behind the door so that he wouldn't be seen but was close enough to hear what was being said. He knew eavesdropping was pretty low but he refused to feel guilty; they were brothers, after all, and if Taesun was keeping secrets then Taemin had a right to know.

 

 

          What he heard, however, left him wishing that he'd stayed where he was.

 

 

          “He came to your apartment?” Taesun whispered. “Yes, I know, I picked him up from there. What? No, it was nothing to do with me, I didn't even know he-”

 

 

          Taemin was frozen in shock. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Either it was all some weird coincidence or Taesun was speaking to...to...

 

 

          “Minho-ssi, calm down!” the older boy hissed. “Of course they'll arrest you, what did you expect, acting so suspiciously?...No, I will not do that. Look, just don't tell them anything, okay? I'll sort it out.”

 

 

          He'll sort it out? What did that mean...and what was Taesun even doing talking to Minho in the first place? Taemin bit his lip to stop himself from confronting his brother then and there. He had to hear the rest of the conversation.

 

 

          “For God's sake, get a grip. You care about Taemin just as much as I do, right? And this isn't helping anyone, let alone him. Minho, I never wanted this to happen...I know it's too late! Will you stop shouting? I told you, I'll sort it out, I have...contacts, and stuff...”

 

 

          Taemin's heart nearly stopped beating. As if the events of that day hadn't been enough, his world was being turned upside-down again? He'd thought it was all over now, they'd catch Minho and arrest him and Taemin would finally be able to move on with his life. But Taesun's words through his mind into turmoil once more and it was as if his fate was laughing at him, he just couldn't believe it...

 

 

          Before he could think straight, he left his position at the door and came out into the hallway, his breathing heavy, his body shaking. Taesun's eyes widened as he spotted his brother staring at him and he gasped, hanging up the phone and letting his hand fall to his side in surprise.

 

 

          “Taemin...” he said, still whispering. “It's...it's not what you think...”

 

 

           But Taemin wasn't listening, he couldn't hear anything, he was too confused and shocked and scared and he just wanted it to be over, he wanted to stop worrying. He stepped backwards and turned around, stumbling into Taesun's spare room where he'd slept the night before and shutting the door behind him. He let himself slide to the floor, head in his hands, trying to slow his breathing and calm himself down.

 

 

          It just couldn't be true. Minho was the bomber. It was all Minho's fault. There was nothing else to it...right? Right.

 

 

          And with that last thought, Taemin decided to forget everything he'd just heard.

 

 

A/N: I know, I know, my updating . I can only beg for your forgiveness *kneels on the floor*. I will try to stop being a lazy and write more often ;_;

So, 'Doubt' will be coming to an end soon T____T My first chaptered fic, nearly finished...there should only be a few more chapters left. I really hope that you have enjoyed it so far. Or at least, one or two of you XD

I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR ALL THE SUBSCRIBERS AND BEAUTIFUL COMMENTS, YOU MAKE ME GO ALL MUSHY INSIDE <3 I honestly don't deserve you guys >u<