Lemons have officially taken over the Shinee dorms.

When the boys wake up to wet pants and fading images of their maknae’s face 2 days after the initial onset, drastic measures are decided upon. Jonghyun brings out the juicer he uses to make disgusting protein shakes and transforms it into a lemon juice manufacturing machine. Kibum digs into his stash of empty cosmetic containers to donate 11 spray bottles. Together, the 2 create makeshift lemon sprays, handing 1 to each member while placing the rest in strategic positions around the dorms.

Taemin, in particular, received the largest spray as a defense mechanism.

“Spray this in our faces if anyone pounces on you,” Kibum says grimly. “Don’t hold back, Taemin.”

Taemin takes the bottle over with a vague expression of dismay.

Meanwhile, Jinki, in a moment of genius, went out to supermarkets to purchase lemon air fresheners and installed them all over the dorms, especially their bedrooms, as it is during nighttime that the boys are most susceptible to this strange phenomenon that has taken over. In just a single room, there are 3 automatic air fresheners placed, and Minho can go nowhere without smelling lemons.

Not that he notices it much nowadays. He smells it so often that Minho has probably deadened his senses to it.

Although, the same cannot be said for Jonghyun, the unlucky sop.

“I have red spots on my arms and neck,” Jonghyun complains as he steps out of the bathroom, freshly showered.

Jinki looks up, worried, but does not comment. Kibum simply continues his perusal of lemon-inclusive recipes online, as Minho does his best to escape reality by drowning his sorrows in FIFA (Shinee is about to have their comeback in 2 months, so no alcohol in case of beer belly). Taemin sits by the window, looking out handsomel—morosely.

Minho grabs a piece of lemon and pops it into his mouth.

“I am developing allergies, guys,” Jonghyun whines again when he does not receive a reply to his satisfaction (no replies at all, in fact). “To lemons.”

“ to be you,” Kibum says, unfazed, even as he clicks through to another promising No-bake Lemon Key Pie recipe.

“This is serious. I can’t show up in music shows looking all spotty,” Jonghyun insists. “I look disgusting.”

“Resuming to your default state, basically,” Kibum sounds bored.

“I am an idol, for goodness sake. I need to look good for the fans!” an exasperated tone creeps into Jonghyun’s voice, “And how can I possibly remain in the same group with gorgeous, beautiful, ethereal Taemin if I can’t even maintain my skin! I am a disgrace to Taemin and am not fit to—“

Before Jonghyun can even finish his sentence, Jinki has already leapt up from his seat and sprayed lemon mist directly into Jonghyun’s face. One spurt, two spurt and a final third, for safety.

“Gah!” Jonghyun cries out, jumping back instantly as he bats uselessly at the air before him.

“I am sorry, Jonghyun. But it’s either rashes or…” Jinki trails off meaningfully, eyeing their maknae with the corner of his eyes. Minho does not miss the predatory flash that flits pass Jinki’s gaze which is immediately followed by Jinki hastily spraying lemon juice all over himself as if it is perfume.

Minho returns his attention back to FIFA and does his best to squash Chelsea (and the niggling worry of: what the hell are they going to do when comeback finally rolls around?)

-

Before the group gets to combat the difficult affair of a comeback, they first have to go to the studio to practice their new choreography and record their new songs.

Because as much as Jinki prefers for the team to remain home and waste their time away while waiting for Taemin to return to being their resident evil brat, management works on vastly different wavelengths.

“Our comeback is continuing as planned?” Jinki’s face has paled to such a shade of white that it would have been comical, if not for the fact Minho feels for him, empathetically.

“But—Taemin is still not—not cured!” Jinki’s hands make little grabbing notions in the air as if he is strangling something.

“It’s impossible! We cannot go to music shows, we cannot hold fansigns. Can you imagine what the fans would do us? To Taemin, that sweet, darling—“ a short pause as Jinki grapples with his spray bottle, “To Taemin? They will tear him apart!”

A long pause elapses, and Minho can hear chittering over the phone that resembles squirrels.

“But it’s different,” Jinki protests. However, Minho can hear that it is no longer so strenuous in tone and he suspects management has managed to find a crack in Jinki’s defenses (which are not very solid in the first place; he has always been a softie), “We aren’t DBSK.”

“That’s very kind of you to say so, sir. But—“

“Well,” Jinki capitulates not even 1 minute after, “If you insist, sir.”

Minho contemplates borrowing that football gear Changmin keeps in his storeroom for Taemin. They can douse it in lemon juice and put Taemin in it. It can be their new concept. Tough men playing rough sports who are searching for their identities while frolicking in flower fields.

It sounds right up their alley.

-

The whole process of getting Taemin to the studios unscathed is a feat that Minho has no wish to repeat. Unfortunately, a comeback implies constant practice and that means lemons, lemons everywhere. It is going to be a lemons galore and Minho is starting to worry for his stomach lining.

Because sometime in between researching for recipes and this ridiculous fiasco of practicing, Kibum has discovered that mixing lemons with anything else reduces its potency significantly. Basically, lemons not consumed/smelled in its raw form make them practically useless. Although, why manufactured lemon-scent is fine but lemon key pie is not, Minho has no ing clue. He hazards that it is just the universe being cruel to him again.

As such, Minho has been eating lemons on a daily basis and pretending that citrus smell is the in thing nowadays.

It isn’t. But. Well.

Better lemons everywhere than having to deal with crazed fans and a traumatized Taemin.

Because the first time they tried to transfer the pheromone overloaded boy to the studio had gone terribly. For some reason, the fans waiting outside the SM building had an even lower tolerance to this crazy dip stupid hormones than SHINee has, and this resulted in a scratching, screeching maniac mess the moment the van pulled up the entrance.

It resembled a zombie apocalypse and Minho screame—nearly screamed.

He didn't. At all. Of course.

In the end, the manager beat a hasty retreat, whereby they eventually ushered Taemin back to the safety of the dorms under a veritable mist of lemon juice. Kibum, Jinki and Minho each had two spray bottles in their hands and were exercising their fingers vigorously as they pumped non-stop, in an effort to stop any neighbours from molesting Taemin mid-way. The security guard tried to feel Taemin on the way out earlier, you see.

Jonghyun spent his time eating a lemon while grumbling about his rashes. Minho was not impressed.

The second time round, they were better prepared. Jinki mobilized the entire troop sans Taemin to the nearest Daiso, whereby they proceeded to clean out the store of all its lemon-scented fresheners. Then, a small miracle of duct tape and drills and cable ties transformed their snazzy KIA van into a mobile gigantic lemon air-freshener, as the team had managed to attach a grand total of 128 units on the van, with the majority of them being just dumped onto the top of the van itself, seeing as how Kibum chipped his nails and Jonghyun got tired after an hour of honest labour.

Pansies, Minho scoffed. He likes the van. He would sleep beside the van if he can. It is a safer place to be at than his room, seeing as how there are only measly 3 air-fresheners in the latter location.

Being a genius and a thrifty man, Minho steals 8 of them from the van and transfers them under his blanket.

Sweet, blissful sleep, here it comes.

-

2 weeks after the fated day, things come to a head. It begins with Jonghyun, as it always has, and the showdown takes place in the living room because that is the only place which can hold 5 hormonal boys with their ever-present stash of lemons and lemon sprays. Taemin has taken to wearing a dreadful shirt with lemon prints all over, which Minho feels is an ineffectual move because the lustful urges still call in regularly regardless of the fugly shirt.

It is, in fact, even worse, because sometimes Minho dreams of Taemin’s fugly shirt riding up and he is disgusted at how the hormones even manage to paralyse his impeccable fashion sense.

“I cannot do this anymore!” Jonghyun says in a fair mimicry of hysteria. He tears slightly at his hair and his eyes are wild around the edges. “My teeth is aching and I have rashes all over my body, and even my ing is turning red! Which is what the ! I am going to move out now!”

Jinki stares at Jonghyun haplessly, only sparing the time to shoot pleading glances at Kibum. Seeming to take pity on him, Kibum strides up to Jonghyun and says snootily, “Fine. Do what you want. Just don’t come crying back to us.”

Alright, perhaps Kibum isn’t taking pity on Jinki, Minho corrects himself.

At those words, Jonghyun goes into a flurry of action. As if performing a magic trick, he whips out a luggage from behind the sofa and with a last shout of ‘I am finally escaping this hellhole!’, he leaves the dorms without a backwards look.

Minho feels a tiny bit of envy, and considers pulling a similar stunt.

Thankfully, management drags Jonghyun back to the dorms before Minho gets any further in his plans (Minho so hates wasted effort; more so than lemons, although they appear to be doing their darnest best to catch up). They cite ‘too many things on their hands’, ‘can’t deal with one disbandment rumour after another’, ‘need to show a front of unity’ and shoves Jonghyun unceremoniously back into the dorms with accompanying threats of cancellations of solo debuts and promises of additional months of bonus.

It is at times like this that Minho admits that the management is truly the management, seeing how expertly they wield the carrot and the stick to get what they want. He is drowning in admiration even as he sprays 3 times at the staff representative, who somehow manages to get caught up in Taemin’s insane pheromones just from the open doorway.

Minho tries to wipe the expression of unholy glee from his face, but he is not too sure if he succeeded.

This is all management’s fault; this is all SM’s fault. Minho has never heard of such screwy situations outside of the one he is in now, and he has no doubt it is occurring because of all the bad karma SM has accumulated.

They should have never disbanded DBSK. Minho misses his hyungs.

What am I writing.