SHINee Fic Mix 2011 - wishunew
Title: A Fish may Love a Bird
Author: Wishunew
Pairing: Minho/Key, Ninja!Onew/Jonghyun
Rating: PG-15
Warnings: slight sexual scene
Original Work: Worst Movie of A Lifetime by miss_circle
If Minho’s life were a movie, it would be one of those romantic comedies Jinki always stayed up late and cried onto Jonghyun’s shoulder about, sobbing about how the main couple was stupid. How could they let that happen? Why didn’t you get me a happy movie, Jjong? Wait, the last part didn’t count.
They started off as strangers, walking past each other in the SM hallways to and from training. It was nothing then, those glimpses of him as Minho moved about his day. Nothing but another trainee. Someone older than him, someone who might take what was supposed to be his. Minho wasn’t stupid. He was quiet and shy, but not stupid, and he knew he didn’t have any rhythm, and that he wasn’t a very good singer. But no one in this company would work harder for their chance to debut than him, and the boy with the pretty face was just a rival in his way.
Then they were grouped together into a band called SHINee, with three other boys, all with amazing talents and Minho felt lost. The boy with the pretty face became Kibum, and later Key. Slightly older, and with the attitude of an enraged ahjumma. He was mean, a bit of a bully, and would pick on Minho a lot. It made him weary of the slightly older boy, and in turn the others. If Key, who was his year mate, thought those things about him, what could the older boys think? Was he being a good hyung to their youngest member, Taemin? He never understood why Key picked on him, needling and needling like he wanted to get under Minho’s skin. It just made Minho grit his teeth and promise to be better, to be someone that Kibum couldn’t mock.
One day, the mocking stopped and Key had straight up challenged him. It was a simple challenge, a video game, but the simple thrill of beating the older boy, to prove to him that Minho really was worthy, was too much to let go. Minho beat Kibum at that game viciously. The look on the older boy’s face had made Minho’s stomach do a funny flip, and then his life’s goal wasn’t trying to prove to Key that he was better, it was to simply show Key how good he was. Jonghyun talked too much, so Minho stayed quiet, the older boy’s counter point incase Kibum wanted someone who wasn’t as loud. He set all his clothes out the night before school, made his own food, and packed it the night before, because Key spent so much time on Taemin in the mornings, Minho didn’t want to burden him. Minho was poised and precise in his movements, never dropping things, never tripping or falling, not once, because Key worried so much over Jinki that Minho didn’t want him to worry more than necessary.
His neatness was just another side effect of wanting Key to notice that he was worthy. His room at home was a mess, but Minho didn’t want Key to feel like he was the only one who cared about how their dorm looked. He space in their shared bedroom was immaculate, because ‘Look, Kibum, I’m better than them‘. Sometimes, when he thought the diva was having a bad day, Minho would follow after him, a silent companion as they both cleaned. Key would chatter on endlessly about the most meaningless of things, and Minho would make appropriate noises to show the older boy he was listening, secretly enjoying how his voice raised and dropped in pitch depending on his feelings on the topic. Truthfully, he just enjoyed the older boy’s company, like a pleasant warmth at his side while they went through the dorm, content and comforting.
Minho couldn’t pinpoint when the feeling of simply enjoying the older boy’s presence became something more, but he blamed it on Jinki, and the dreams. The leader had pounced on them all at one point, demanding whether they’d ever had naughty dreams about him. Well, he asked everyone but Taemin. He said it was something about them admiring him, and really had nothing to do with being gay, or anything. Jonghyun had then warmly told Jinki he admired the leader, and Kibum had called them both gross and threw everything he could reach at them until they left, including Minho’s water bottle.
The dreams had started around then, too. Nothing too bad, just warmth, a naked body next to his own, and somehow he knew it was Key. Sweet, sweat slick Key, who made delightful murmuring sounds when Minho touched him just right. When Minho would nibble on his earlobe, or lick up his neck, he would make that noise. Dream Key liked his nipples played with, a touch would make him arch, anything firmer and he’d whine and tell Minho to stop, but it wouldn’t be what he really wanted, the blush and the coy smile were proof, so the taller boy would move his hand lower to wrap around Kibum’s throbbing…
Minho hoped that distance would make things better. So whenever he had the chance, he’d hang out with his DBSK and Super Junior hyungs or the guys from 2PM. Anyone who would help get his mind off of Key for a while. Or even SHINee in general.
This part of his life was like a movie montage with some cool song behind it, something up beat but a little sad, because even when he was with all of his hyungs, hanging out and really having a good time, he couldn’t help but think of Key, think of how distant they were getting. Did he know about the dreams? No, how could he? The reason they were getting distant was because Minho was pushing the older boy away. Even when they had to be together, like with Hello Baby, it was always a competition. Yoogeun had liked Key first, liked him the best, so Minho had to be better. The little kid was beyond adorable and getting close to him was something that Minho was glad he did, but it seemed like everything he did, it just pushed Key farther away.
So Minho tried harder, went all out. He became more sociable, louder, and dedicated. With every victory, sometimes he’d stop him, pull him aside and tell him good job. He treasured the moments they were together, when Key wouldn’t be trying to keep Jonghyun from walking into things because he’s not paying attention, trying to keep Onew from falling over in the chair he fell asleep in because he tosses and turns and forgets he isn’t in a bed, and trying to keep Taemin from eating the food the weird noona’s give him. When Key would laugh so hard he’d lean into Minho for support, and the taller boy could feel his body heat through their clothes.
But then there were other times, when Key’s snide comments would cut him deep. The older boy would do everything he could to get under Minho’s skin, like he had some kind of personal grudge. First it would be cheating at video games, simple things like speed boosts or immortality so that Minho couldn’t beat him no matter how much he tried. Then it was with Yoogeun and the sandwich. He stole Minho’s items purposely and used them to win. It annoyed Minho beyond imagining, enough to make him forget about the times when it was just the two of them sharing jokes.
This was the dramatic conclusion, when the main character was forced to realize that all the little things he’d been reading into, the fleeting touches and the private jokes, the good jobs and the times that Key thanked him for helping clean, they didn’t mean anything. They were just comradely things. Friend things. Key didn’t have the dreams of them laying naked together, basking in the afterglow of the sex they’ll never have. They were too distant, too different, for their relationship to be anything else but friends, rivals, even if the fans think his rival is Jonghyun.
Minho had been on again off again flirting with this girl who worked behind the scenes at Dream Team. Dream Team was his show, they may rarely win, but it was fun, and even if his team didn’t win, Minho won. But he couldn’t say that the loss of his team didn’t hurt him, that he didn’t see it as a slight to his character. She saw Minho as the winner he was, she smiled and giggled and blushed, she never prodded at him, or cheated, and she never won against him. He had always been kind of hoping Key would do something, say something, and they would try to be together, but then the older boy drew the final line.
Key had pulled Minho aside before he left to records, and told him to his face that Minho would lose, that Dream Team would lose. He had a little smirk on his bow lips that Minho always used to find attractive, but now he was just done. Done with everything, and Minho told him, vowed to him he would win.
So maybe that’s why he went to hard that day, he was fueled by rage, intent only on winning and he lost his focus. His drive to prove Key wrong had been ugly, and he’d gotten hurt because of it. He’d been stupid, heartbroken, and a fool. And as he woke up on his back in the pit, and tried to convince his body to breathe again, as all the other Dream Team members crowded around him, trying to see if he was okay, he realized that. After the recording the girl he’d been flirting with gave her his number.
Kibum was all over Minho when he got home, and Minho just didn’t want any of it. He didn’t want Key asking him if he was alright, he didn’t want the odd, wet look in his weird, red eyes. He didn’t want any of that. So he smirked at the older boy, and told him to chill, he wasn’t going to die.
"You take one more step away from the bed, I swear I'm gonna snap your neck myself. Rest!" Key yelled, and laughed, and rolled his eyes at him. He wasn’t the old, timid Minho who would cower when someone raised his voice. He was different now, and it was mostly Key’s fault, so he could deal with it.
"Whatever, Kibum," he said. "All I know is that I've won the bet. Not your stupid bet, but the bet with Dream Team hyungs. I told them that I would not stop shooting despite my accident. Wanna know what I got for winning? This girl's number. Man, isn’t she a hottie."
Minho shooed him out, sating he had a call to make, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not right now. Maybe tomorrow, when he had a bit more space between him and his broken heart. Instead, he just rolled over and closed his eyes, pretending he wasn’t excited for that night’s dream. Cut to black, and roll the credits. There is no happy ending in real life, just two hearts like magnets, the same in every way, yet never meant to touch.