Loyalty: PG-13; ninja!OTPs galore
Title: Loyalty
Author: mimi_oly
Rating: PG-13 (language, mature theme)
Pairing/Focus: ninja OTPs galore
Word count: 3900
Genre: Bandfic, slice of life, drama/angst
Summary: Jonghyun makes choices; Jinki deals with the consequences.
Author’s note: I began this right after SHINee’s first concert, before Jonghyun’s foot/ankle surgery. Before I knew the extent of his injury, I was feeling a little put out on Jinki’s behalf when it seemed that Jonghyun was recovered, but not fully performing. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do with this story until SHINee’s trip to London and the coincident timing of a subsequent announcement. Then I just needed the cajones to use the ending that kept insisting on being written. Thanks to ippeun_nuna for help with Korean phrases.
December 2010
Jonghyun and his girlfriend were entwined on her sofa when their hand phones buzzed simultaneously with urgent text messages. Jonghyun quickly scanned a profanity-laced message from Key demanding that Jonghyun immediately return to the dorm if he valued his worthless life. Minho’s message to the young lady politely asked that she send oppa home as soon as possible due to an emergency. Jonghyun was quickly ushered out the door.
“This better be important,” Jonghyun bellowed as he burst through the door and kicked off his shoes. He was met by an angry glare from Key, who looked as if he were attempting some sort of convoluted yoga position as he sat coiled on the sofa, clutching himself, chewing his thumbnail. Minho was perched on the edge of the kitchen table, coolly sipping beer from a can.
Jonghyun glanced back and forth between his two band-mates. “Where’s everyone else?” he asked, his voice peevish.
“Gyeongshik hyung and Taemin took Jinki hyung to the hospital during practice,” Minho replied calmly, taking another sip of beer as he eyed Jonghyun.
“Shit, I missed practice again…wait, what happened to Sir Trips-a-Lot?”
“YAH!” Key erupted and launched himself at Jonghyun. Minho’s athleticism was all that protected Jonghyun from Key’s fierce attack; Minho had quickly darted between the two men, knocking his beer can to the floor in the process. He wrapped himself tightly around Key, pinning the smaller boy’s arms to his sides. It was a testament to the depth of Key’s anger that Minho had to struggle to keep Key from ripping Jonghyun’s head off.
The remains of Minho’s beer were slowly spreading across the kitchen floor as Key seethed in Minho’s embrace. Key eventually stopped squirming and quietly announced that he wanted to clean up the mess before it could seep under the refrigerator. Minho thanked Key as he released him, and felt relieved that something was temporarily distracting Key from murdering their hyung.
Once they were in the living room, Jonghyun piped up again. “Minho-yah, what’s going on?” Jonghyun asked in a quiet voice that held a trace of concern.
“Jinki hyung coughed up blood when we were at singing practice,” Minho stated.
“Maybe if some people went to physical therapy like they’re supposed to, or showed up for practice instead of sneaking off to get laid, then other people wouldn’t have to hold extra practices for new choreography, or cover their vocal parts and damage themselves in the process!” Key shrieked at Jonghyun from the kitchen.
Jonghyun’s face fell as his hand flew to his mouth. “Hyung coughed up blood?” he whispered. “Eotteokhae…” he choked out as he fell back onto the sofa. Minho continued to stare at him silently while Key finished up in the kitchen.
Key took the soiled cleaning rags to the laundry room before joining the other two. Minho rose from the arm of the sofa to intercept him. “Kibum,” he said soothingly, “thank you for cleaning up after me.”
Key’s face softened a bit when he felt Minho’s hands on his shoulders, gently caressing him. “It’s okay,” Key sighed. “It gave me something productive to do.” He circled his arms around Minho’s waist and felt himself enfolded by strong arms for the second time that evening.
Jonghyun was roused from his thoughts by the muffled sound of Key sobbing against Minho’s chest. “What if something happens to his beautiful voice?” Jonghyun heard the older of the two boys cry out just before Minho led Key back to his bedroom.
It felt like an eternity that Jonghyun was left to worry alone on the sofa, until he heard the sound of the front door being unlocked. “They’re home!” he hollered back down the hall as he raced to the door. Onew was the first through the door, followed by Taemin and their manager.
“Hyung,” Jonghyun said warily as he approached Onew, just before he was shoved aside by Key.
“Agi!” Key cried out, pulling Onew to him.
“Wasseo,” mumbled Taemin, whose eyes were puffy and red. The manager saw that Jonghyun had indeed returned as ordered, so he said goodnight to his charges and wearily drifted off down the hallway to his own room.
Minho guided Taemin over to the sofa before peeling Key off of Onew. It was then that Minho noticed that his hyung was wearing a surgical mask over his nose and mouth. Minho put his arm around his hyung’s shoulders and led Onew over to the best seat in the living room before joining the other three boys on the sofa.
Sandwiched between Key and Minho, Taemin blurted out, “Jinki hyung has pneumonia,” as fresh tears streamed down his face.
“Pneumonia?” repeated Jonghyun from his seat at the far end of the sofa next to Minho.
“Aigo…Heoni…” Key was on the floor next to Onew at once, petting and holding his hand.
“It’s really not…” Onew said quietly.
“Shhh, hyung!” Taemin cried out. “You’re supposed to rest your voice.”
Onew nodded his head in assent.
“The doctor said that if hyung takes his medicine and rests he should recover in a few weeks,” Taemin explained to the others.
“How did this happen?” asked Key, with a quick glance in Jonghyun’s direction.
“It’s just a bad germ,” said Taemin. “Anyone could catch it, but hyung doesn’t get enough rest, so he was especially vulnerable right now. That’s what the doctor told us.”
“So he got sick because he’s working too hard,” Key said, a little louder than necessary, glancing again in Jonghyun’s direction.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Taemin nodded.
“Well then, let’s get you to bed,” clucked Key. He put Onew’s arm over his shoulders and hauled him out of the comfortable chair. “A nice steamy shower will help,” the other boys heard Key announce as he man-handled Onew into the bathroom.
Taemin’s tears had stopped, but he still looked miserable. “Are you okay?” asked Minho as he rubbed his hand up and down Taemin’s back.
“It was just really scary, you know?” answered Taemin. “Seeing him coughing like that…”
“But the doctor really said that he just needed to rest and take medicine?” Jonghyun interjected.
“That’s what he said,” Taemin replied, sniffling a bit.
Minho pulled Taemin into a hug and patted his back for a while longer.
“Thanks, hyung.” Taemin offered Minho a weak smile as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off his face.
“Taemin-ah,” Minho said gently. “Would you mind making everyone some tea, and maybe a little snack?” The look on Minho’s face was kind, but Taemin understood that he was being given a direct order. He nodded before gracefully rising from the sofa and gliding into the kitchen, glad to be excused from the tension-filled living room.
Minho turned to look at Jonghyun, who suddenly seemed to find his own hands rather fascinating. Minho stretched his arm across the back of the sofa, making him that much more imposing compared to the smaller Jonghyun. “Well, hyung, what do you think?” Minho said in his low, smooth voice.
“About what?” replied Jonghyun, clearly nervous.
“About Jinki hyung catching pneumonia. About what Kibum said,” Minho said. His voice was calm, without a trace of accusation.
“Are you saying that I’ve been thinking with my dick?” Jonghyun spat out.
“No, I only asked what you were thinking,” replied Minho. “What are your intentions, hyung?”
“My intentions?” scoffed Jonghyun. “Are you asking me if I’m planning to get married?”
“No, I meant as a band member. You’ve spent a lot of time training with Kyuhyun hyung and the others. No one here blames you for taking time to do that. We’re happy for you the same way we’re happy for Jinki hyung with his musicals. And it’s good that you and noona have time together. But Jinki hyung has managed to do his musicals without adding any burden to the other members. And when I got injured, I did everything the physical therapist told me to do so that I could perform properly again as soon as possbile. You’ve been missing practices and avoiding the physical therapist, so I wonder about your commitment to the band. That’s what I meant when I asked you about your intentions,” Minho finished.
Minho had never raised his voice, or used a threatening tone, but Jonghyun still felt like a student who’d been caught cheating on a test, and then lectured and punished in front of the class. It wasn’t like Minho to lecture anyone. That was usually Key’s job.
“Well, now that you mention it,” Jonghyun murmured, “I have been thinking along those lines a lot lately,” he admitted.
“Go on,” Minho encouraged.
“Yunho hyung and Changmin hyung seem to be doing all right on their own, don’t they?” Jonghyun commented.
“And?”
“And you guys have been managing pretty well without me. Look at Taemin. Now that he has the chance, he’s really stepped up. You and Kibum, too.”
“Hyung, just come out and say it.” Minho’s voice was still calm and measured, as if he’d been training as a psychoanalyst in his spare time.
Jonghyun felt as though Minho could see straight into his heart. “I don’t know if I want to do this anymore…the whole idol thing. I just want to sing and write music. Now that I’m with…well, you know what I mean. I just want some privacy. That’s why I’m thinking of leaving,” he confessed quietly.
“I see,” said Minho. “Could I ask you a favor?”
Jonghyun finally looked up at Minho, expecting to see anger or disappointment, but was met instead by eyes that looked as guilty as his own.
“Could you keep your plans to yourself for a little while longer?” Minho asked quietly.
“What?” Jonghyun had expected some sort of reprimand.
“Hyung, you’re not the only one who has dreams that don’t include the group,” Minho confessed. “My parents were contacted by an agent who wants me to do some more acting. I’ve already had some offers,” he added, trying to look modest. “There’s also a sports clothing brand that wants me as their representative.”
“Wow,” Jonghyun replied, his eyes wide. Then he remembered what Minho had said earlier. “So why do you want me to keep my plans to myself if you’ve got the same idea?”
“There’s a lot of weird stuff going on with the company right now. Haven’t you noticed that all of the younger SuJu members are part of the Chinese group now? Doesn’t it seem odd to add Sungmin hyung and Eunhyuk hyung, but not Yesung hyung, who’s a better singer?”
“I don’t get it,” responded Jonghyun.
“I think the management is setting up the four oldest members to go do their military service sooner rather than later,” Minho suggested.
Jonghyun pondered this for a moment. “Maybe, but what’s that got to do with us?”
“I can imagine the management making different project groups, just like they did with you and Kyuhyun hyung. Maybe we could do something with Yunho hyung and Changmin hyung. I don’t know, but I don’t want to mess it up for the other members. There are a lot of trainees coming up, and I don’t want SHINee to get lost in the shuffle before we have the chance to put out another album. We’ve got a lot of unreleased stuff, so I’ll bet that after the concerts and the Japan promotions, we’ll get a shot at a third full album, don’t you think?”
Jonghyun didn’t know which was more shocking: Minho’s train of thought; or the fact that he’d spoken more than two sentences in a row while sharing his concerns.
Key seemed to appear out of nowhere, holding a tray with the refreshments Taemin was supposed to have prepared.
“How’s hyung?” Minho asked nonchalantly.
“He’s resting now,” Key answered quietly, “but you’ll have to help me pull Taemin out of hyung’s bed after they fall asleep.”
June 2011, Somewhere over Mongolia
Jonghyun was roused from his position drooling on Minho’s shoulder by the vibrating phone in his pocket. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and retrieved his only link to the world beyond the first class cabin. He couldn’t believe his eyes:
Oppa, our schedules keep us apart so much that I don’t think we can grow any closer right now. I hope you understand that I want you to be free and that I’ll always admire you and be your friend. Please eat well and stay healthy.
“Fucking bastard,” Jonghyun muttered, immediately blaming his girlfriend’s co-star. He’d never trusted the older man who was acting with the pretty young girl. “God damn pervert.”
Minho stirred and glanced sleepily at Jonghyun, who shoved his phone into the younger man’s hand with a disgusted look on his face.
“Wha….?” Minho croaked as he took the phone. He took a moment to read and re-read the text message. “Hyung, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jonghyun automatically answered, but the reality of the situation suddenly hit him in the gut. They’d both made sacrifices to have a relationship with each other. His fans had certainly put the young woman through hell, and Jonghyun’s popularity had suffered as well. But now, just as it seemed they’d moved beyond the scandal, she’d set him loose.
Jonghyun had never been on the receiving end of a breakup before. He’d always been the one to dismiss his girlfriends in high school, knowing that there were plenty of other fish in the sea. Now he was starting to feel his bruised ego along with the heart break of losing the affection of the first woman he’d dated as an adult. Jonghyun reminisced about her sweet laugh and how perfect it felt to have her soft curves pressed against him as he trailed wet kisses down her--
“Hyung?” Minho asked again gently, interrupting Jonghyun’s train of thought.
Jonghyun felt the hot tears escape from his eyes as he glanced up at the concerned young man beside him.
Minho stifled the urge to embrace his friend, not wanting to make a scene in public. Instead he gripped Jonghyun’s hand affectionately and pressed the call button for the attendant.
“My friend’s having some trouble sleeping, so could you please bring us some soju?” Minho asked the attendant, who, mercifully, was male, and hopefully less inclined to gossip about the young celebrities. The attendant re-appeared moments later with a chilled bottle and two small glasses.
Eight hours later, Jonghyun tottered through Heathrow under a jaunty hat and behind dark glasses. Between the bad news, the soju, the jet lag, and what felt like a touch of food poisoning, he was in bad shape.
Onew had slept soundly through the entire flight and volunteered to take care of Jonghyun in the room he was to share with Minho while the others settled in and rested before rehearsal. The depressed singer repeatedly emptied the contents of his stomach into the British porcelain until he was gagging up bile. Onew provided cool washcloths and sips of weak tea in between bouts of retching.
When Jonghyun at last dragged himself to bed, Onew lay beside him and trailed soothing fingers up and down his back while quietly crooning old folk songs to distract his ailing friend from his roiling stomach.
In his misery, Jonghyun flashed back to the day when Onew had been diagnosed with pneumonia. Out of fear for his own health, Jonghyun had steered clear of his hyung for a week afterward until he was sure the antibiotics had wiped out all the nasty germs in Onew’s diseased chest. He suddenly felt himself to be the world’s worst dongsaeng. Now that his romantic relationship was over, being a member of an idol group, and being loved by his band mates (and their fans) didn’t seem like such a bad thing. The guilt he felt over this realization added to his agony and before he could hold it back, sobs were racking his body.
“Poor Jonghyun,” Onew cooed sympathetically, stroking Jonghyun’s sweat-drenched hair. “Does it hurt?”
Jonghyun couldn’t bear to reveal the depth of his guilt over his traitorous thoughts and behavior. All he could manage to croak out into his soggy pillow was, “She dumped me…by text on the way here.”
“Oh, no,” Onew commiserated as he wrapped his sweaty friend in his arms, continuing to rub Jonghyun’s back. This tenderness made Jonghyun sob even harder.
“You’re burning up,” Onew commented after comforting Jonghyun for several minutes. “Let’s get you into the shower.”
Jonghyun let himself be led to the bathroom where Onew helped him out of his sweaty clothes and into the tepid water.
“I’m coming in, too,” Onew shouted over the roar of the shower as he climbed in beside Jonghyun. “Just stay put and let me take care of you.”
The worst of Jonghyun’s nausea had passed; now he was light-headed. He felt Onew’s fingers in his hair and smelled the unfamiliar but pleasantly fruity fragrance of hotel shampoo being quickly massaged into his scalp. He folded his arms across his forehead and leaned against the shower wall to steady himself as a wave of dizziness passed over him. The next thing he knew, Onew was scrubbing him down with a soapy washcloth.
“Chin up,” Onew ordered gently as he moved the shower wand over Jonghyun’s head. “Wash your face,” he added.
“I’m cold,” Jonghyun whimpered as the formerly refreshing water became chilly.
“Hold on,” Onew replied. He adjusted the water temperature and then hastily washed himself before helping Jonghyun into a fluffy bathrobe and wrapping his own waist with a towel.
“Don’t want you to catch a chill,” Onew said while vigorously rubbing Jonghyun’s arms and back through the bathrobe. He dropped to his knees and dried Jonghyun’s legs and feet. “I’ll get your toothbrush,” Onew added, darting out of the bathroom to retrieve Jonghyun’s dopp kit.
Once Jonghyun had finished cleaning the acidity from his mouth, Onew helped Jonghyun into his pajamas and tucked him into bed after placing a dry towel over his pillow. “Do you want some more tea?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, please,” Jonghyun replied hoarsely.
Onew quickly made the tea and had returned to Jonghyun’s side when Minho quietly returned to the room. Minho took in the unexpected scene of his towel-clad hyung holding a teacup to Jonghyun’s lips.
“What’s going on?” he asked when he saw Jonghyun’s condition.
“He’s pretty sick,” Onew answered. “He puked his guts out, and I think he’s got a fever.”
“This is my fault,” Minho mumbled. “I shouldn’t have given him the soju.”
“What soju?” Onew asked, incredulous.
“On the plane,” Minho confessed. “You three were asleep across the aisle and…um,” he paused, not wanting to disclose Jonghyun’s involuntarily-single status without permission.
“It’s okay, hyung knows,” Jonghyun croaked miserably.
“Oh…well, okay then,” Minho said, “I just wanted to take his mind off things, you know?” his face revealing his concern and guilt.
“Relax, this doesn’t seem like a just a hangover to me,” Onew assured Minho, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
“Hyung, move!” Jonghyun grunted as he suddenly scrambled out of the bed and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Minho and Onew could hear the unmistakable sounds of lower gastrointestinal distress even over the noise of the fan.
“Poor Jonghyun,” Onew commented, wrinkling his nose.
Together, Onew and Minho decided that Jonghyun was in no condition to leave the room any time soon. Onew sent Minho to fetch their manager, who cared for Jonghyun while the rest of the team rehearsed. Their relentless training paid off; they easily adjusted their parts to accommodate Jonghyun’s absence.
The coordi noona who’d trained as a nurse administered IV fluids, and so the ailing singer was able to join the other members on stage briefly just to prove he was still alive before being taken back to the hotel room. When Minho arrived a few hours later, Jonghyun was sitting up in bed, trying to make sense of an American sitcom re-run.
“How are you feeling?” Minho asked, still assuming some responsibility for Jonghyun’s distress.
“Like crap, but better than before,” Jonghyun answered. “I can’t believe things got so fucked up like up this, you know?”
Minho nodded sympathetically and went to make some tea.
“I almost threw it all away, and now this is how it ends up,” Jonghyun shook his head in disbelief as he recalled his failed plans for the future.
Minho joined Jonghyun on the bed. They sat silently drinking their tea and watching the television. After Minho cleared their cups away, he rejoined Jonghyun, pulling the smaller man across his lap so that he could rub Jonghyun’s back.
After comforting his hyung for a while, Minho spoke up. “Hyung, remember when we talked about moving on from the group together -- at the same time, I mean?”
“Of course,” Jonghyun replied bitterly. “It’s all I can think about today.”
“Right,” Minho acknowledged. “Anyway, my plans have changed since then. The agent who talked to my parents -- well, it seems he was overly optimistic about my prospects right now. The modeling gig fell through, too.”
Jonghyun snorted. “I know the feeling. I haven’t been able to get anywhere with the songs I wrote. Nothing’s happening with the ballad group, and now…” he looked up at Minho miserably. “Let’s just say privacy doesn’t feel like my number one priority anymore.”
Minho nodded in sympathy. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready for all this to be over. We’ve learned so much and worked so hard this year. I think we can still accomplish a lot together, don’t you think?”
Jonghyun sat up from Minho’s lap and looked him in the eye.
“Hyung, will you stay with us? Please?”
“Yeah, I’m in.”
They heard a quiet knock at the door. Onew had come to check on Jonghyun; he joined the younger men on Jonghyun’s bed.
Onew felt Jonghyun’s forehead for signs of fever and then arranged himself opposite Minho so they could cuddle
Jonghyun between them. “I’m so sorry this has been such a rotten trip. I wish I could make the last 24 hours just disappear for you,” he spoke quietly into Jonghyun’s hair.
Tears of affection and gratitude welled up in Jonghyun’s eyes. “It hasn’t been all bad, hyung,” he whispered, trying to disguise his deep emotions. “I’ve still got you guys, and that’s enough for me.”
November 2011
Friday morning
My beautiful darling, I’m so happy we’re together after all this time and everything we’ve been through. I thought my heart would break from joy when you chose me, and now, over sixth months later, I’m happier than ever. I only hope I can bring you the same contentment and bliss you’ve given me. Happy 200 Days Anniversary, my smiling angel Sekyung.
Friday night
The members were being driven home in a company van after performing the title track from their third full album for an ecstatic crowd. The singer in the middle row felt his phone vibrate.
Oppa, your romantic note and the gorgeous roses you sent arrived on the set this morning. My dressing room is now filled with the most beautiful fragrance and all I can think about is seeing you tomorrow. Unnie reserved the usual suite at the Shilla for us. Until then, Jinki oppa, saranghae.
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Author: mimi_oly
Rating: PG-13 (language, mature theme)
Pairing/Focus: ninja OTPs galore
Word count: 3900
Genre: Bandfic, slice of life, drama/angst
Summary: Jonghyun makes choices; Jinki deals with the consequences.
Author’s note: I began this right after SHINee’s first concert, before Jonghyun’s foot/ankle surgery. Before I knew the extent of his injury, I was feeling a little put out on Jinki’s behalf when it seemed that Jonghyun was recovered, but not fully performing. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do with this story until SHINee’s trip to London and the coincident timing of a subsequent announcement. Then I just needed the cajones to use the ending that kept insisting on being written. Thanks to ippeun_nuna for help with Korean phrases.
December 2010
Jonghyun and his girlfriend were entwined on her sofa when their hand phones buzzed simultaneously with urgent text messages. Jonghyun quickly scanned a profanity-laced message from Key demanding that Jonghyun immediately return to the dorm if he valued his worthless life. Minho’s message to the young lady politely asked that she send oppa home as soon as possible due to an emergency. Jonghyun was quickly ushered out the door.
“This better be important,” Jonghyun bellowed as he burst through the door and kicked off his shoes. He was met by an angry glare from Key, who looked as if he were attempting some sort of convoluted yoga position as he sat coiled on the sofa, clutching himself, chewing his thumbnail. Minho was perched on the edge of the kitchen table, coolly sipping beer from a can.
Jonghyun glanced back and forth between his two band-mates. “Where’s everyone else?” he asked, his voice peevish.
“Gyeongshik hyung and Taemin took Jinki hyung to the hospital during practice,” Minho replied calmly, taking another sip of beer as he eyed Jonghyun.
“Shit, I missed practice again…wait, what happened to Sir Trips-a-Lot?”
“YAH!” Key erupted and launched himself at Jonghyun. Minho’s athleticism was all that protected Jonghyun from Key’s fierce attack; Minho had quickly darted between the two men, knocking his beer can to the floor in the process. He wrapped himself tightly around Key, pinning the smaller boy’s arms to his sides. It was a testament to the depth of Key’s anger that Minho had to struggle to keep Key from ripping Jonghyun’s head off.
The remains of Minho’s beer were slowly spreading across the kitchen floor as Key seethed in Minho’s embrace. Key eventually stopped squirming and quietly announced that he wanted to clean up the mess before it could seep under the refrigerator. Minho thanked Key as he released him, and felt relieved that something was temporarily distracting Key from murdering their hyung.
Once they were in the living room, Jonghyun piped up again. “Minho-yah, what’s going on?” Jonghyun asked in a quiet voice that held a trace of concern.
“Jinki hyung coughed up blood when we were at singing practice,” Minho stated.
“Maybe if some people went to physical therapy like they’re supposed to, or showed up for practice instead of sneaking off to get laid, then other people wouldn’t have to hold extra practices for new choreography, or cover their vocal parts and damage themselves in the process!” Key shrieked at Jonghyun from the kitchen.
Jonghyun’s face fell as his hand flew to his mouth. “Hyung coughed up blood?” he whispered. “Eotteokhae…” he choked out as he fell back onto the sofa. Minho continued to stare at him silently while Key finished up in the kitchen.
Key took the soiled cleaning rags to the laundry room before joining the other two. Minho rose from the arm of the sofa to intercept him. “Kibum,” he said soothingly, “thank you for cleaning up after me.”
Key’s face softened a bit when he felt Minho’s hands on his shoulders, gently caressing him. “It’s okay,” Key sighed. “It gave me something productive to do.” He circled his arms around Minho’s waist and felt himself enfolded by strong arms for the second time that evening.
Jonghyun was roused from his thoughts by the muffled sound of Key sobbing against Minho’s chest. “What if something happens to his beautiful voice?” Jonghyun heard the older of the two boys cry out just before Minho led Key back to his bedroom.
It felt like an eternity that Jonghyun was left to worry alone on the sofa, until he heard the sound of the front door being unlocked. “They’re home!” he hollered back down the hall as he raced to the door. Onew was the first through the door, followed by Taemin and their manager.
“Hyung,” Jonghyun said warily as he approached Onew, just before he was shoved aside by Key.
“Agi!” Key cried out, pulling Onew to him.
“Wasseo,” mumbled Taemin, whose eyes were puffy and red. The manager saw that Jonghyun had indeed returned as ordered, so he said goodnight to his charges and wearily drifted off down the hallway to his own room.
Minho guided Taemin over to the sofa before peeling Key off of Onew. It was then that Minho noticed that his hyung was wearing a surgical mask over his nose and mouth. Minho put his arm around his hyung’s shoulders and led Onew over to the best seat in the living room before joining the other three boys on the sofa.
Sandwiched between Key and Minho, Taemin blurted out, “Jinki hyung has pneumonia,” as fresh tears streamed down his face.
“Pneumonia?” repeated Jonghyun from his seat at the far end of the sofa next to Minho.
“Aigo…Heoni…” Key was on the floor next to Onew at once, petting and holding his hand.
“It’s really not…” Onew said quietly.
“Shhh, hyung!” Taemin cried out. “You’re supposed to rest your voice.”
Onew nodded his head in assent.
“The doctor said that if hyung takes his medicine and rests he should recover in a few weeks,” Taemin explained to the others.
“How did this happen?” asked Key, with a quick glance in Jonghyun’s direction.
“It’s just a bad germ,” said Taemin. “Anyone could catch it, but hyung doesn’t get enough rest, so he was especially vulnerable right now. That’s what the doctor told us.”
“So he got sick because he’s working too hard,” Key said, a little louder than necessary, glancing again in Jonghyun’s direction.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Taemin nodded.
“Well then, let’s get you to bed,” clucked Key. He put Onew’s arm over his shoulders and hauled him out of the comfortable chair. “A nice steamy shower will help,” the other boys heard Key announce as he man-handled Onew into the bathroom.
Taemin’s tears had stopped, but he still looked miserable. “Are you okay?” asked Minho as he rubbed his hand up and down Taemin’s back.
“It was just really scary, you know?” answered Taemin. “Seeing him coughing like that…”
“But the doctor really said that he just needed to rest and take medicine?” Jonghyun interjected.
“That’s what he said,” Taemin replied, sniffling a bit.
Minho pulled Taemin into a hug and patted his back for a while longer.
“Thanks, hyung.” Taemin offered Minho a weak smile as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped off his face.
“Taemin-ah,” Minho said gently. “Would you mind making everyone some tea, and maybe a little snack?” The look on Minho’s face was kind, but Taemin understood that he was being given a direct order. He nodded before gracefully rising from the sofa and gliding into the kitchen, glad to be excused from the tension-filled living room.
Minho turned to look at Jonghyun, who suddenly seemed to find his own hands rather fascinating. Minho stretched his arm across the back of the sofa, making him that much more imposing compared to the smaller Jonghyun. “Well, hyung, what do you think?” Minho said in his low, smooth voice.
“About what?” replied Jonghyun, clearly nervous.
“About Jinki hyung catching pneumonia. About what Kibum said,” Minho said. His voice was calm, without a trace of accusation.
“Are you saying that I’ve been thinking with my dick?” Jonghyun spat out.
“No, I only asked what you were thinking,” replied Minho. “What are your intentions, hyung?”
“My intentions?” scoffed Jonghyun. “Are you asking me if I’m planning to get married?”
“No, I meant as a band member. You’ve spent a lot of time training with Kyuhyun hyung and the others. No one here blames you for taking time to do that. We’re happy for you the same way we’re happy for Jinki hyung with his musicals. And it’s good that you and noona have time together. But Jinki hyung has managed to do his musicals without adding any burden to the other members. And when I got injured, I did everything the physical therapist told me to do so that I could perform properly again as soon as possbile. You’ve been missing practices and avoiding the physical therapist, so I wonder about your commitment to the band. That’s what I meant when I asked you about your intentions,” Minho finished.
Minho had never raised his voice, or used a threatening tone, but Jonghyun still felt like a student who’d been caught cheating on a test, and then lectured and punished in front of the class. It wasn’t like Minho to lecture anyone. That was usually Key’s job.
“Well, now that you mention it,” Jonghyun murmured, “I have been thinking along those lines a lot lately,” he admitted.
“Go on,” Minho encouraged.
“Yunho hyung and Changmin hyung seem to be doing all right on their own, don’t they?” Jonghyun commented.
“And?”
“And you guys have been managing pretty well without me. Look at Taemin. Now that he has the chance, he’s really stepped up. You and Kibum, too.”
“Hyung, just come out and say it.” Minho’s voice was still calm and measured, as if he’d been training as a psychoanalyst in his spare time.
Jonghyun felt as though Minho could see straight into his heart. “I don’t know if I want to do this anymore…the whole idol thing. I just want to sing and write music. Now that I’m with…well, you know what I mean. I just want some privacy. That’s why I’m thinking of leaving,” he confessed quietly.
“I see,” said Minho. “Could I ask you a favor?”
Jonghyun finally looked up at Minho, expecting to see anger or disappointment, but was met instead by eyes that looked as guilty as his own.
“Could you keep your plans to yourself for a little while longer?” Minho asked quietly.
“What?” Jonghyun had expected some sort of reprimand.
“Hyung, you’re not the only one who has dreams that don’t include the group,” Minho confessed. “My parents were contacted by an agent who wants me to do some more acting. I’ve already had some offers,” he added, trying to look modest. “There’s also a sports clothing brand that wants me as their representative.”
“Wow,” Jonghyun replied, his eyes wide. Then he remembered what Minho had said earlier. “So why do you want me to keep my plans to myself if you’ve got the same idea?”
“There’s a lot of weird stuff going on with the company right now. Haven’t you noticed that all of the younger SuJu members are part of the Chinese group now? Doesn’t it seem odd to add Sungmin hyung and Eunhyuk hyung, but not Yesung hyung, who’s a better singer?”
“I don’t get it,” responded Jonghyun.
“I think the management is setting up the four oldest members to go do their military service sooner rather than later,” Minho suggested.
Jonghyun pondered this for a moment. “Maybe, but what’s that got to do with us?”
“I can imagine the management making different project groups, just like they did with you and Kyuhyun hyung. Maybe we could do something with Yunho hyung and Changmin hyung. I don’t know, but I don’t want to mess it up for the other members. There are a lot of trainees coming up, and I don’t want SHINee to get lost in the shuffle before we have the chance to put out another album. We’ve got a lot of unreleased stuff, so I’ll bet that after the concerts and the Japan promotions, we’ll get a shot at a third full album, don’t you think?”
Jonghyun didn’t know which was more shocking: Minho’s train of thought; or the fact that he’d spoken more than two sentences in a row while sharing his concerns.
Key seemed to appear out of nowhere, holding a tray with the refreshments Taemin was supposed to have prepared.
“How’s hyung?” Minho asked nonchalantly.
“He’s resting now,” Key answered quietly, “but you’ll have to help me pull Taemin out of hyung’s bed after they fall asleep.”
June 2011, Somewhere over Mongolia
Jonghyun was roused from his position drooling on Minho’s shoulder by the vibrating phone in his pocket. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and retrieved his only link to the world beyond the first class cabin. He couldn’t believe his eyes:
Oppa, our schedules keep us apart so much that I don’t think we can grow any closer right now. I hope you understand that I want you to be free and that I’ll always admire you and be your friend. Please eat well and stay healthy.
“Fucking bastard,” Jonghyun muttered, immediately blaming his girlfriend’s co-star. He’d never trusted the older man who was acting with the pretty young girl. “God damn pervert.”
Minho stirred and glanced sleepily at Jonghyun, who shoved his phone into the younger man’s hand with a disgusted look on his face.
“Wha….?” Minho croaked as he took the phone. He took a moment to read and re-read the text message. “Hyung, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jonghyun automatically answered, but the reality of the situation suddenly hit him in the gut. They’d both made sacrifices to have a relationship with each other. His fans had certainly put the young woman through hell, and Jonghyun’s popularity had suffered as well. But now, just as it seemed they’d moved beyond the scandal, she’d set him loose.
Jonghyun had never been on the receiving end of a breakup before. He’d always been the one to dismiss his girlfriends in high school, knowing that there were plenty of other fish in the sea. Now he was starting to feel his bruised ego along with the heart break of losing the affection of the first woman he’d dated as an adult. Jonghyun reminisced about her sweet laugh and how perfect it felt to have her soft curves pressed against him as he trailed wet kisses down her--
“Hyung?” Minho asked again gently, interrupting Jonghyun’s train of thought.
Jonghyun felt the hot tears escape from his eyes as he glanced up at the concerned young man beside him.
Minho stifled the urge to embrace his friend, not wanting to make a scene in public. Instead he gripped Jonghyun’s hand affectionately and pressed the call button for the attendant.
“My friend’s having some trouble sleeping, so could you please bring us some soju?” Minho asked the attendant, who, mercifully, was male, and hopefully less inclined to gossip about the young celebrities. The attendant re-appeared moments later with a chilled bottle and two small glasses.
Eight hours later, Jonghyun tottered through Heathrow under a jaunty hat and behind dark glasses. Between the bad news, the soju, the jet lag, and what felt like a touch of food poisoning, he was in bad shape.
Onew had slept soundly through the entire flight and volunteered to take care of Jonghyun in the room he was to share with Minho while the others settled in and rested before rehearsal. The depressed singer repeatedly emptied the contents of his stomach into the British porcelain until he was gagging up bile. Onew provided cool washcloths and sips of weak tea in between bouts of retching.
When Jonghyun at last dragged himself to bed, Onew lay beside him and trailed soothing fingers up and down his back while quietly crooning old folk songs to distract his ailing friend from his roiling stomach.
In his misery, Jonghyun flashed back to the day when Onew had been diagnosed with pneumonia. Out of fear for his own health, Jonghyun had steered clear of his hyung for a week afterward until he was sure the antibiotics had wiped out all the nasty germs in Onew’s diseased chest. He suddenly felt himself to be the world’s worst dongsaeng. Now that his romantic relationship was over, being a member of an idol group, and being loved by his band mates (and their fans) didn’t seem like such a bad thing. The guilt he felt over this realization added to his agony and before he could hold it back, sobs were racking his body.
“Poor Jonghyun,” Onew cooed sympathetically, stroking Jonghyun’s sweat-drenched hair. “Does it hurt?”
Jonghyun couldn’t bear to reveal the depth of his guilt over his traitorous thoughts and behavior. All he could manage to croak out into his soggy pillow was, “She dumped me…by text on the way here.”
“Oh, no,” Onew commiserated as he wrapped his sweaty friend in his arms, continuing to rub Jonghyun’s back. This tenderness made Jonghyun sob even harder.
“You’re burning up,” Onew commented after comforting Jonghyun for several minutes. “Let’s get you into the shower.”
Jonghyun let himself be led to the bathroom where Onew helped him out of his sweaty clothes and into the tepid water.
“I’m coming in, too,” Onew shouted over the roar of the shower as he climbed in beside Jonghyun. “Just stay put and let me take care of you.”
The worst of Jonghyun’s nausea had passed; now he was light-headed. He felt Onew’s fingers in his hair and smelled the unfamiliar but pleasantly fruity fragrance of hotel shampoo being quickly massaged into his scalp. He folded his arms across his forehead and leaned against the shower wall to steady himself as a wave of dizziness passed over him. The next thing he knew, Onew was scrubbing him down with a soapy washcloth.
“Chin up,” Onew ordered gently as he moved the shower wand over Jonghyun’s head. “Wash your face,” he added.
“I’m cold,” Jonghyun whimpered as the formerly refreshing water became chilly.
“Hold on,” Onew replied. He adjusted the water temperature and then hastily washed himself before helping Jonghyun into a fluffy bathrobe and wrapping his own waist with a towel.
“Don’t want you to catch a chill,” Onew said while vigorously rubbing Jonghyun’s arms and back through the bathrobe. He dropped to his knees and dried Jonghyun’s legs and feet. “I’ll get your toothbrush,” Onew added, darting out of the bathroom to retrieve Jonghyun’s dopp kit.
Once Jonghyun had finished cleaning the acidity from his mouth, Onew helped Jonghyun into his pajamas and tucked him into bed after placing a dry towel over his pillow. “Do you want some more tea?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, please,” Jonghyun replied hoarsely.
Onew quickly made the tea and had returned to Jonghyun’s side when Minho quietly returned to the room. Minho took in the unexpected scene of his towel-clad hyung holding a teacup to Jonghyun’s lips.
“What’s going on?” he asked when he saw Jonghyun’s condition.
“He’s pretty sick,” Onew answered. “He puked his guts out, and I think he’s got a fever.”
“This is my fault,” Minho mumbled. “I shouldn’t have given him the soju.”
“What soju?” Onew asked, incredulous.
“On the plane,” Minho confessed. “You three were asleep across the aisle and…um,” he paused, not wanting to disclose Jonghyun’s involuntarily-single status without permission.
“It’s okay, hyung knows,” Jonghyun croaked miserably.
“Oh…well, okay then,” Minho said, “I just wanted to take his mind off things, you know?” his face revealing his concern and guilt.
“Relax, this doesn’t seem like a just a hangover to me,” Onew assured Minho, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
“Hyung, move!” Jonghyun grunted as he suddenly scrambled out of the bed and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Minho and Onew could hear the unmistakable sounds of lower gastrointestinal distress even over the noise of the fan.
“Poor Jonghyun,” Onew commented, wrinkling his nose.
Together, Onew and Minho decided that Jonghyun was in no condition to leave the room any time soon. Onew sent Minho to fetch their manager, who cared for Jonghyun while the rest of the team rehearsed. Their relentless training paid off; they easily adjusted their parts to accommodate Jonghyun’s absence.
The coordi noona who’d trained as a nurse administered IV fluids, and so the ailing singer was able to join the other members on stage briefly just to prove he was still alive before being taken back to the hotel room. When Minho arrived a few hours later, Jonghyun was sitting up in bed, trying to make sense of an American sitcom re-run.
“How are you feeling?” Minho asked, still assuming some responsibility for Jonghyun’s distress.
“Like crap, but better than before,” Jonghyun answered. “I can’t believe things got so fucked up like up this, you know?”
Minho nodded sympathetically and went to make some tea.
“I almost threw it all away, and now this is how it ends up,” Jonghyun shook his head in disbelief as he recalled his failed plans for the future.
Minho joined Jonghyun on the bed. They sat silently drinking their tea and watching the television. After Minho cleared their cups away, he rejoined Jonghyun, pulling the smaller man across his lap so that he could rub Jonghyun’s back.
After comforting his hyung for a while, Minho spoke up. “Hyung, remember when we talked about moving on from the group together -- at the same time, I mean?”
“Of course,” Jonghyun replied bitterly. “It’s all I can think about today.”
“Right,” Minho acknowledged. “Anyway, my plans have changed since then. The agent who talked to my parents -- well, it seems he was overly optimistic about my prospects right now. The modeling gig fell through, too.”
Jonghyun snorted. “I know the feeling. I haven’t been able to get anywhere with the songs I wrote. Nothing’s happening with the ballad group, and now…” he looked up at Minho miserably. “Let’s just say privacy doesn’t feel like my number one priority anymore.”
Minho nodded in sympathy. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready for all this to be over. We’ve learned so much and worked so hard this year. I think we can still accomplish a lot together, don’t you think?”
Jonghyun sat up from Minho’s lap and looked him in the eye.
“Hyung, will you stay with us? Please?”
“Yeah, I’m in.”
They heard a quiet knock at the door. Onew had come to check on Jonghyun; he joined the younger men on Jonghyun’s bed.
Onew felt Jonghyun’s forehead for signs of fever and then arranged himself opposite Minho so they could cuddle
Jonghyun between them. “I’m so sorry this has been such a rotten trip. I wish I could make the last 24 hours just disappear for you,” he spoke quietly into Jonghyun’s hair.
Tears of affection and gratitude welled up in Jonghyun’s eyes. “It hasn’t been all bad, hyung,” he whispered, trying to disguise his deep emotions. “I’ve still got you guys, and that’s enough for me.”
November 2011
Friday morning
My beautiful darling, I’m so happy we’re together after all this time and everything we’ve been through. I thought my heart would break from joy when you chose me, and now, over sixth months later, I’m happier than ever. I only hope I can bring you the same contentment and bliss you’ve given me. Happy 200 Days Anniversary, my smiling angel Sekyung.
Friday night
The members were being driven home in a company van after performing the title track from their third full album for an ecstatic crowd. The singer in the middle row felt his phone vibrate.
Oppa, your romantic note and the gorgeous roses you sent arrived on the set this morning. My dressing room is now filled with the most beautiful fragrance and all I can think about is seeing you tomorrow. Unnie reserved the usual suite at the Shilla for us. Until then, Jinki oppa, saranghae.
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