It’s past midnight when Jinki’s woken from where he’s fallen asleep on the sofa by the sound of the door opening. He blinks at the clock on the wall and lets out a groan when he realises it’s already 2am. 

“Jinki-hyung?” says two voices, both equally slurred with exhaustion, one from the doorway, pausing in the middle of quietly removing his shoes, and the other from the head beside him resting on the cushion he’d been sharing with the leader. Key squints his eyes open for a moment, then mumbles something incoherent and snuggles closer to Jinki’s chest. 

Taemin enters the living room and his heart flutters a little in his chest at the sight which greets him; Jinki on the sofa, with one arm slung around Key’s waist, and Jonghyun curled up beneath Minho’s jumper on his armchair in the corner, head lolling back exposing his neck, and Minho stretched out on the floor below him, his head on the seat of the armchair next to Jonghyun’s feet, one of Jonghyun’s hands tangled in Minho’s hair. They’re all asleep, except for Jinki, who smiles sleepily through his fringe at the maknae. Taemin can feel the edges of his lips twitching up automatically in response but knows from the way Jinki’s smile falters that he hadn’t managed to make the smile reach his eyes. He tries again but it’s so forced Jinki actually frowns. 

“What’s wrong?” Jinki asks quietly but not quiet enough for Key, on the edge of consciousness. The blonde brings his hands up to wipe at his eyes and struggles upright, nearly elbowing Jinki in the head as he stretches. He pauses mid-stretch when he realises both Jinki and Taemin are staring at him. His cheeks tint pink and he buries his face in Jinki’s side, drawing a chuckle from both onlookers. Still, the strained quality of Taemin’s soft laughter is enough to make Key tilt his head away from Taemin and towards Jinki, meeting the leader’s eyes and exchanging a questioning, worried look. Key straightens and turns to Taemin, making motherly ‘come here’ gestures. For a moment everything is frozen, and Jinki realises with shock that Taemin is seriously considering not joining them. He can see the younger pinching his own thigh and wonders why Taemin’s feeling nervous. Surely them worrying about him isn’t something to be nervous about? 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as them, and Jinki lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when Taemin comes over to them and settles on the floor beside their sofa. He doesn’t look at them, doesn’t meet their eyes and the sight of him on the hard wooden floor, head down, knuckles white where his hands are tightly gripping his knees, makes his lovers’ hearts ache. As another moment of utter stillness overcomes them, Key feels like somebody has ripped open his stomach and savagely twisted his intestines. A pained little noise makes it past his lips and, hands shaking, he pushes Jinki upright on the sofa and hooks Taemin by his upper arms, pulling him up onto the sofa too. 

Jinki doesn’t know how they all manage to fit, but somehow he finds himself with Taemin’s cold feet tucked under his thigh and Key’s toes digging into his hip and Taemin’s head is resting on Key’s chest with Key’s arms wrapped tightly around the younger. Slightly disgruntled he ended up with everyone’s feet, Jinki comforts himself by running his hand up and down Taemin’s toned calves.

Their maknae seems to have shrunk in Key’s arms to the small, stick-thin boy Jinki still remembers like their debut days were yesterday. Sometimes he forgets there’s that Taemin still hidden within those muscular limbs, powerful vocals and confident dances. 

They don’t say anything for a long, long time, and beyond the sounds of their breathing, Key can hear the occasional late night car speeding by, racing down the empty roads. They don’t move much either, except for Taemin’s hands; his left fingers shifting to tangle themselves in the fluffy hair at Key’s neck and his right stretching down to search blindly for Jinki’s. The leader takes the cold fingers carefully, bends to press a kiss to the soft palm before carefully sandwiching it between both of his hands. Key watches Taemin’s eyelids flutter closed and tenderly presses his lips to the maknae’s forehead. Taemin’s messy hair tickles his cheek, but ever since that stupid joke about his hair smelling like dog shampoo, Taemin has taken to stealing Key’s shampoo, so Key just happily nuzzles closer and breathes in the familiar scents of lavender and tea tree and lets his inhales and exhales play through the damaged blonde hair. 

Jinki can feel a sense of helplessness settling over him like a smothering heavy winter blanket on a hot summer night. If Minho had been awake, he would’ve already interrogated - in the most affectionate use of the word - Taemin and uncovered the source of the problem but Key is of the belief that you should just offer comfort and wait for people to come to you willingly. Jinki doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t have any easy decision for how to act, tends to improvise his approach depending on the situation; but right now he doesn’t know anything except that Taemin’s eyes are fluttering open and catching the soft light, reflecting it as the sun’s rays dance on the waves of the sea, and Jinki hates his own uselessness as tears begin shine.

The silence is broken by a stuttered “I’m sorry” as the youngest finally gives in to his hyungs’ silent, anxious questioning. Then there’s a torrent of apologies dripping from his pink lips as tears begin to fall from his dark eyes, leaving little wet stains on Key’s sweater. 

Taemin’s shoulders are shaking and he’s pulled his hands away from Jinki and Key to cover his own mouth, trying unsuccessfully to smother his sobs, teeth latching onto the skin on the back of his hands, body shaking with the effort of trying to regain control. Key squeezes his own eyes shut for a second to stop himself from breaking down at the pitiful sounds echoing through the quiet house and swallows so his voice doesn’t shake when he holds Taemin tighter and whispers sweet nothings and gentle assurances that Taemin has nothing to apologise for in between the kisses he’s peppering all over Taemin’s face. The salty taste of tears seeps through his lips. 

Jinki’s eyes are fixed on Taemin’s face, pale apart from the redness of his eyes and the bruise-like shadows of exhaustion beneath them, and when Key spares the leader a glance he sees the panic setting in. He takes a second to give Jinki the most motherly smile he can manage and Jinki immediately relaxes.

Key’s kisses cover every inch of Taemin’s face, from the bottom of his chin to his hairline. Jinki suddenly leaps up and tiptoes out of the living room. As Key rocks Taemin back and forth, awkward as they’re lying down and their legs are sort of tangled and Taemin’s shuddering so much Key can feel his own bones shaking with every muffled sob, he can hardly believe Minho and Jonghyun are still asleep. Okay, so Minho’s a heavy sleeper, but Jonghyun usually wakes up when people creep past his room even when his door is shut. Key feels another tsunami of worry rush through him at this realisation; is something wrong with Jonghyun too? Before he can indulge his worry and work himself up, Jinki returns in the form of two duvets and a pair of legs sticking out underneath. 

“I can’t hug Taeminnie with you like that,” he says, his cheeks slightly red as he pouts at Key and Taemin on the sofa. Taemin, who seems to be calming down, sniffs and cranes his head around to see Jinki lay one duvet on the floor and and wriggle beneath the other, patting beside him as he looks up through his fringe with vulnerable eyes and that shy smile like brilliant sunshine after months of rain. 

Taemin bursts into fresh tears again, this time making no attempt to stifle them, and weakly pushes Key away so he can roll off the sofa in a mess of trembling limbs and crawl over to Jinki, throwing himself at Jinki’s chest and crushing his tear-stained face into his leader’s warm steadiness. Key wants to huff indignantly, but can’t find it within himself when Jinki’s arms wind around Taemin’s narrow waist and he presses smiles and kisses to the bare skin where Taemin’s neck meets his shoulder and Taemin finally stops pretending he can cope by himself. Pausing only to crack his neck from the uncomfortable position on the sofa, Key slides off the sofa and rolls until he bumps into Taemin’s back, then sneaks his own arms around his baby’s body, skin heating up where it touches Jinki’s bare arms. The two older men work together to hold the youngest close. Work together, hoping he can feel how much they adore him in their embraces and their kisses and their soft whispers of ‘It’s okay love’ and ‘Tell us what’s wrong beautiful’ and ‘Don’t be scared, we love you’. 

Taemin has soaked Jinki’s shirt with hot tears and he’s just beginning to calm slightly, breathing less erratic, when somebody’s hand touches Jinki’s shoulder. He nearly has a heart attack. 

“,” says Jonghyun, when Jinki releases Taemin a little as he turns to see who had surprised him and Taemin’s tear-streaked face appears. Key can see Jonghyun shatter a little at the snotty, red-blotched features of their little maknae. “Sweetheart,” Jonghyun breathes softly, before draping himself half over Taemin’s legs and half over Jinki’s, resting his head against the duvet, pushing his face into Taemin’s flat stomach and nuzzling into Taemin’s shirt. His thumb is rubbing circles into Taemin’s hip as he uses his nose to push Taemin’s shirt up just enough for him to be able to kiss Taemin’s side. Taemin sniffs and one leg shifts so it’s draped over Jonghyun’s. 

Jinki spares one hand to reach down and run his fingers through Jonghyun’s hair and as he does so, Key whispers, “He hasn’t told us what’s wrong.” Taemin stiffens momentarily, but Jonghyun keeps rubbing his hip and Key shuffles a bit closer so his chest is right against Taemin’s spine and Jinki stops playing with Jonghyun’s hair and instead cups Taemin’s jaw gently, his hot palm warming Taemin’s bones, and he relaxes again. 

With his head against Jinki’s heart, Taemin starts breathing in time with his hyung in an attempt to calm himself down. “Where’s Minho-hyung?” asks a voice which sounds like Taemin’s, only more raspy and sniffy and shaky. 

“Sleeping,” says Key, then reconsiders, “But waking up, I think?” Jinki hummed in interest then fell silent, but not speaking so Taemin could keep following his breathing pattern. They all listened quietly to the sound of Minho shuffling awake. 

“Fine, don’t invite me to your little sleepover,” they hear Minho grumble, and realise he thinks they’re all asleep. A bubble of slightly hysterical laughter erupts from Taemin, shocking the other four, especially Minho, who bites his tongue when he jumps in surprise. “Uh, guys?”

“Come join,” says Key, keeping his voice neutral. Minho lets out a groan of embarrassment and tiredness combined, which is stopped short when he gets close enough to see the way they’re all nested around Taemin and catches sight of the maknae’s face. 

“Taemin-ah? What’s wrong?” he frowns and Jinki knows the time of reckoning has come. Judging by the way Taemin freezes and his eyes widen, flickering to meet Jinki’s with something like guilt in them, Taemin knows it too. 

That doesn’t stop him from trying, “Nothing.” Jonghyun frowns and pinches Taemin’s hip so the youngest winces. Jinki can see those red, raw eyes b with tears again and it hurts that Taemin is hurting this much. It hurts when Taemin apologises again, shaking his head with anger, directed at himself, twisting his features into self-disgust. Minho’s frown deepens in a way that would usually provoke Key to joke about him aging prematurely. 

“Taeminnie, please,” Key says into the skin of Taemin’s shoulder instead. “We won’t be angry, promise.”

None of them are prepared when Taemin sits up sharply, tearing himself away from the loving hands of Jinki, Key and Jonghyun, and spits, “Stop it. Just stop it.” He hits his forehead with his fists and keeps them there, hiding his face as he stares down at his knees, voice tight with frustration and ire. 

“I told myself I wouldn’t give in. I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve to have all your kisses and hugs and why are you even wasting them on me?” Looking up suddenly, he glares at Key on his right. “Why do you even bother?” Before Key can respond, Taemin’s hugging his knees close, muttering more to himself than to them now. “I’m so selfish and rude and disrespectful and…it’s almost three in the morning.” He notes with horrified realisation lacing his tone after he checks the clock. Glancing down at Jinki on his left, lip curled in shame, Taemin says, “You should be sleeping.” Then to Minho, “Hyung, I’m sorry I woke you. I’m sorry I woke all of you, you need to sleep.” 

They’re too confused and shocked to realise his intention when Taemin starts to stand, “I’m so sorry,” he steps out of their little nest, his legs shaking weakly, “I’ll just-“ 

“What the ,” says Key, his hand gripping Taemin’s ankle tightly, glaring up at the maknae furiously, “was that?”

Taemin hesitates, torn between explaining further or yanking his foot free. He can feel all of them staring at him and it’s not with the usual fondness. He feels ill. “I forgot to thank all the staff at the recording today. I was just so tired it completely slipped my mind. Then I come back and you’re all waiting. I just don’t deserve that. You haven’t got any schedules and you finally have the chance to sleep, why would you give that up for me? Especially when I’m doing solo promotions.” The deep breath Taemin takes informs them all that this is the crux of the whole mess. 

“You all work so hard and I’m the ing maknae but I’m the one with solo activities and you all deserve a break so you can rest for once. I can’t just come back and expect you to listen to me crying because I tripped over twice and had to perform Danger three times and my wrist hurts and I’m just so tired; when I’ve been given the choice to perform solo, when I’ve accepted it, when I should’ve known what I was signing up for, when I should’ve realised how much harder it is without you beside me; when everyone’s screaming ‘Taemin! Taemin!’ and there’re all these articles about how I should’ve debuted later and been the centre of a group but instead I’m outshining all of you, only I’m not, I never would’ve been here without you and I can’t even imagine being apart from you…”

Taemin is vaguely aware that he might be hyperventilating. But he hasn’t finished saying everything, but maybe that’s a good thing because this outburst is probably burdening his hyungs, right? but he still hasn’t said he knew he’s being stupid and petty and idiotic and he just doesn’t want them to be angry at him, not after they’d wasted all that time cuddling him and kissing him and he really likes it, really likes being centre of their affections, and, really, how selfish can he be? Stealing the spotlight on stage and not thanking people and expecting to have everyone’s attention in the dorms too, how greedy is he? 

The next thing he registers is Minho supporting his weight and Jinki gripping his jaw, forcing Taemin to look at him and breath in and out with him. He can hear Jonghyun crying quietly somewhere, but Jinki, with his wide eyes and failing reassuring smile, is all Taemin can see. 

Key returns from the kitchen, his hand shaking so much that water is leaping up the sides of the glass he’s holding, and is relieved that Minho and Jinki have managed to help Taemin breathe properly. The maknae has been guided back to the duvet on the floor and is sprawled, unreactive, staring up at the ceiling. Jinki has Taemin’s head in his lap and is still breathing loudly and steadily. Key isn’t sure whether that’s merely for Taemin or for Jinki himself too. Minho is on the other side of the room, hugging Jonghyun, who is fulfilling his role as resident crier. 

“I got him some water. He needs to rehydrate after all that crying.” 

After the burst of activity has settled down again, nobody seems to know quite what to do with themselves. Eventually, Jinki makes an executive decision as leader, unable to stop his lips from twitching into a little smile despite the inappropriateness, when all his dongsaengs snap to look at him the second he wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue and opens his mouth to speak. 

“I’m going to bed. I suggest everyone do the same. We can’t deal with this now. Besides, we have recording for the new Japanese album at 9am and we’re not going without eating breakfast like last time because I can’t deal with Minho whining about how hungry he is again, so set your alarms for 8.” 

Whilst they all nod, and get to their feet, none of them actually leave the room, all hesitating. Jinki sighed, “And I’ll sleep with him tonight.” There is no need to specify which ‘him’ he’s referring to. Minho helps him carry Taemin into his room then says goodnight with a kiss on the forehead. From the tired smirk on Minho’s face as he leaves the room, Jinki is sure Minho knows just how much Jinki loves the fact that Minho is tall enough to kiss his forehead without an awkward combination of tiptoes and hunching over. Jinki turns off the light and climbs into bed, subconsciously hugging Taemin’s waist. Pulling the covers over their heads, he whispers goodnight into the warm duvet cave.

When they wake up, Taemin’s gone. He’s made them breakfast and left a little note saying:

Hyungs,

I’m sorry about last night. I love you.

Enjoy breakfast \(^-^)/ 

Taem

Jinki doesn’t know why, but he’s not worried at all. Even when Key fidgets and is only eating because Taemin made the food, even when Minho keeps a steadying hand on the small of Jonghyun’s back whilst he shovels food down with the other one and pretends he’s not glancing at the door every five seconds, even when Jonghyun knocks over a glass of water because his puffy eyes are refusing to cooperate and swears hideously. 

Jinki wonders if he should be worried. It’s just that he’s convinced Taemin’s breakdown was just the accumulative affect of stressful days and sleepless weeks. Being on stage by yourself is a lot harder than when all the stares and cameras are shared between five, especially when it feels like the whole world is watching. 

As for the other stuff, it’s obviously passed through Taemin’s mind a couple of times. Words like that don’t come from nowhere. But Taemin’s not the sort to dwell on negative emotions, not the kind to indulge himself in self-pity. He’s been the maknae’s confidante since pre-debut times, and knows Taemin like the back of his hand, so he’s sure he’s right.

So Jinki feels relatively confident when he gives Key the jam and breaks the silence with casual assurances, “It was all just stress and tiredness. He probably ran off ‘cause he’s so embarrassed about it. Let’s be honest here; we’ve all had bad days and found it a little much when you walk back through that door and know there are four people who are willing to do pretty much anything to make things better.” The sentences are fragmented around the mouthfuls of toast, crumbs falling on the table and his lap, but the others are all listening raptly, “It’s kind of a lot to wrap your head around.”

When he finishes the butter off his fingers and glances up, Minho’s looking at him with his dark eyes like melted chocolate. Jinki smiles. Half the time he doesn’t know what he’s saying, whether it makes any sense, but no matter what, his dongsaengs are always ready to reassure him with affectionate gazes or supporting hands. 

Key pushes his chair back and comes around the table to nudge Jinki’s shoulder until he moves his own chair back enough for Key to settle himself on his lap. “Thanks Jinki,” he mumbles into his leader’s armpit. Jonghyun laughs at the way Jinki blushes.

Suddenly Minho says, “Taemin knows we’re proud of him more than anything else. More than that other . He definitely knows.” 

“He probably shocked himself,” Jonghyun muses. 

“Well next time,” says Key gruffly, “He could at least give us a little warning.” 

Jinki reaches around him to eat his own breakfast and Jonghyun starts kicking Minho’s feet under the table when the taller steals the last piece of toast. Key hopes Taemin has eaten. He also hopes Taemin will let him fuss over him a bit later; let Key brush his hair to tell the maknae that he doesn’t envy him his solo, let Key cook him noodles to tell him he’s always available for cuddles and naps whenever Taemin needs them, let Key give him massages to tell him how glad he is that SHINee’s maknae is dancing machine Lee Taemin, let Key choose his outfits when he drags Taemin shopping on the weekends to ensure he knows he’ll always bother. Even if Key doesn’t manage to say the actual words, he hopes Taemin will understand his actions and interpret his little gestures as the silent, unassuming love confessions they are. 

Jinki makes a pun and Jonghyun hits him and Minho tries to pretend he didn’t find it hilarious and Key feels a burst of relief and happiness, exploding in his chest to tingle through his veins. 

Because if there’s one thing Key’s sure of, one thing he knows they’re all sure of, one thing he’s certain Taemin is sure of, it’s their love for one another.