Those Meddling Kids! (Chapter 1)
Title: Those Meddling Kids! (Chapter 1)
Author: 7dragon_zodiac / Verocity
Fandom: Super Junior, Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairings: KiBum [Super Junior] x ChangMin [DBSK]; EunHyuk x RyeoWook if you squint (other pairings will develop later on ;D)
Rating: I’m pretty sure it’s just G for now.
Warnings: Yaoi
Genre: General, romance
A/N: This is the first time I’m writing fanfic about boybands. Please bear with me. I write long stories with multiple chapters, with lots of stuff developing behind the scenes. This won’t be a fluff piece, and in future chapters it will deal with semi-serious stuff. Please note that these are how I personally interpret the characters based on their media appearances. Please be gentle with me. :D
Summary: The one where KiBum and ChangMin assess some of the SuJu members for a certain mission.
Word Count: 2,440
Everyone in the group had his own form of defense.
For example: the members thought LeeTeuk’s motherly tendencies were his way of coping with such a varied group, but it was, in truth, the cause of his stress. When the company chose him to lead Super Junior, and he looked at the (then) eleven other members who would be his wards, he knew with absolute certainty that he’d be lucky to stay sane for three years. He first turned to strictness and discipline, and it almost worked… but then HanKyung’s tongue grew sharper and there just shouldn’t be two disciplinarians in a group of twelve (thirteen now).
He next turned to gag… but he didn’t realize it was a bad idea until KangIn supported him with great enthusiasm. LeeTeuk thought of soldiering on. He fooled himself into believing he was invincible. By the time he realized his mistake, he was too far gone.
It was scary how the only person who seemed to know what was going on was also the only person he couldn’t seem to reach deeply enough.
KiBum, for all his desires for individuality and masculinity, understood enough about the group’s eldest to know that his realization came too late. He fully saw LeeTeuk’s actions for what they were: sacrifice. Perhaps the others saw it as well, but he was less affected by their cultural collectivism. He decided to have no part in driving anyone insane (as fun as that may sound) and in turn he would rather not be affected by its development. He moved out of the dorms with mixed feelings of guilt and relief.
But even if he lived and worked alone, away from their wacky hi jinks and unrelenting noise, and days would even pass without him seeing anyone other member… KiBum still felt loyal to his oldest hyung. And only to him.
He asked ChangMin’s opinion on the issue. “I really can’t say much,” Dong Bang Shin Ki’s youngest said. “There are only five of us and our ages are much closer than your group’s. YunHo-hyung didn’t carry the burden alone. Plus JaeJoong-hyung is actually much more mature than he shows in public.”
“So you don’t have anything helpful to say?” KiBum clarified. ChangMin became too roundabout when sensitive issues came up. It was a miracle that KiBum (with his trademark straightforwardness) could tolerate it. Beer actually helped a lot.
“I don’t have anything helpful from experience,” ChangMin answered, putting his mug down a little too hard on Kibum’s floor. YooChun had asked him out for drinks (as his hyungs always do, though with very limited success), but by then he was already on his way to KiBum’s. He simply told his hyung that he didn’t want to go out, and that he’d really rather drink alone tonight… He didn’t know if his hyungs figured it out - he wasn’t going to say anything, and certainly neither would KiBum. “But I can help you brainstorm.” He eyed his half-empty mug of beer, then KiBum’s almost-empty one. “I think we started the night wrong.”
“Nonsense.” KiBum was intelligent, definitely. His empathy, however, was a little atrophied. Alcohol did wonders for him.
ChangMin, on the other hand, only drank because he didn’t want his hyungs to see him as too young. Not that it helped since he never drank with his hyungs anyway. “So who do you think can help?”
* * *
RyeoWook relished the last chord as it faded to silence, his fingers pressed firmly against the keys. He wondered, briefly, if he should change the end to a minor progression… no, it would make the resolution seem less powerful.
Another night, another composition. He’d have to ask EunHyuk-hyung’s opinion on the piece, but he was at the dance studio, practicing with SungMin-hyung, DongHae-hyung, and ShinDong-hyung for a segment they’d star in.
RyeoWook sighed. For a group of artists, they really didn’t seem to have that many members who could appreciate art outside their genre. He usually relied a lot on SungMin-hyung for alternative reactions to his pieces, but lately he’s been more immersed in dancing than in music. It was good for SungMin-hyung to explore his talents… but RyeoWook had to admit, it did leave him slightly lonely. It used to hurt a lot being the least-capable dancer in the group. He didn’t know if he just learned to accept the fact, or if he’d learned to ignore the twinge of pain that comes whenever everyone else could connect through their movement… and he couldn’t. It felt a lot like being an outsider. It felt like he was dragging the group down.
Everyone tried their best to accommodate him, of course. EunHyuk-hyung took extra time to help him make his movements more natural, and LeeTeuk-hyung sometimes intervened to make RyeoWook’s steps less complicated whenever he was positioned at the front. SungMin-hyung sometimes offered to give him additional workshops, and RyeoWook appreciated him for it… but SungMin-hyung was already too busy, and if they held workshops it would take away what little rest time they had left. It was another reason why he didn’t want to bother SungMin-hyung (or anyone else) to react to his compositions.
But EunHyuk-hyung was different.
RyeoWook honestly preferred in-depth discussions about his music, hopefully involving how it can still be improved, how it made the others feel, maybe even some input on which parts to polish. But talks like that interested few people. YeSung-hyung would have helped gladly, and his opinions were often unconventional and surprising. That comes later, though. First, RyeoWook needed conventional and emotional approaches.
There was a time when EunHyuk-hyung wasn’t the first person he’d think of when looking for a reaction to his work. Hyung knew very little about music, and he had no interest in discussing emotional reactions to classical compositions. But hyung, afraid that he and RyeoWook were drifting apart, made him promise to share music with him, and Ryeowook, honoring the sincerity with which the promise was made, played an original composition for him then and there. As expected, hyung wasn’t much for conversation afterwards.
But when hyung suddenly stood up, said, “this is how it came to me,” then danced a cross between popping and what could have passed for ballroom, RyeoWook suddenly realized how much of an artist hyung really was. RyeoWook then made hyung promise to listen to his new compositions, and hyung said he would agree only if he was the first to listen to it. And from then on, a pact was formed.
And from then on, whenever he shared music with EunHyuk-hyung, the latter would respond with dancing and RyeoWook would see how his composition made hyung feel. Art in response to art. Slowly, RyeoWook accepted that he may not be a good dancer, but he still knew good dancing when he saw it, and he knew when dancing was just movement, and he could feel when dancing became art.
He reached for his phone and composed a message.
Hyung! I have a new song. Sleep well after you practice so you’ll have energy to listen when I play for you tomorrow~
And as promised, Eunhyuk-hyuk would be the first to hear RyeoWook’s new piece. But he was only the second-best choice. RyeoWook gazed at his computer’s screen. His wallpaper was a picture of the group taken in the dorm when KiBum still lived with them.
* * *
“He’ll help if I ask him to,” KiBum said flatly. “But I don’t think he can make much of an impact.”
“Being the youngest never really stopped me,” ChangMin replied. “And RyeoWook has his own strengths. You should know better than to judge people by their age.” He finally finished his beer and contemplated refilling his mug. KiBum was on his second, but then the guy had higher tolerance. And more experience.
ChangMin decided against it. He was reasonably sure that KiBum knew about his mild infatuation on him and just thought nothing of it; he’d always been openly encouraging of deepening their friendship. But more alcohol might screw things up for both of them - in different ways, but worse for ChangMin.
KiBum glared at the empty mug and drained the remains of their first bottle into it. “You can drink more than that and you know it.”
Well, scratch that. ChangMin sighed. “If I do anything we’ll both regret, know that it’s your fault.”
“As if I’d let you do anything stupid, punk.” Over the years, the two had developed conversations that delved deep into the realms of double-entendre. ChangMin was careful to not let anything obvious slip, and KiBum was sensitive enough to respond in kind.
“And I’d be a hypocrite if I let our age restrict us,” KiBum continued, back on topic. “RyeoWook takes care of everyone. Everyone. He doesn’t have the time or energy to focus on LeeTeuk-hyung.”
With more care and attention to his state of mind, ChangMin continued to drink. There was already a pleasant buzz somewhere in his head behind which bad things and stupid decisions hid. “Won’t he feel betrayed if you leave him out? He’d want to help LeeTeuk-hyung.”
“I know, I know.” Kibum lay on the floor. A bad move since it messed with his fluids, but he had enough resistance of overcome the consequences. He burped loudly to lessen the discomfort and looked quickly at ChangMin’s reaction.
ChangMin just playfully covered his nose. He liked the guy enough to be relieved that they were at this level of comfort, but not enough to be thankful for being subjected to his bodily gases. Some have commented that he was a bit too prissy about these things (YunHo-hyung in particular), but he liked to think that he was just hygienic.
KiBum grinned mischievously. “You wouldn’t survive a day with DongHae.”
“And I am eternally grateful for not being in Super Junior,” he responded sincerely. “Hmm. DongHae seems to have a lot of energy. Why not him?”
KiBum, still on the floor, just rolled his eyes.
“Why?” ChangMin asked innocently. “I thought you said he was smarter than he appears.”
“I still haven’t decided if I’m right or wrong.”
* * *
For the record, KiBum was right. What he really doubted was DongHae’s emotional stability.
It wasn’t as simple as being unable to cope with his father’s death. No, he handled that just fine. He cried the tears, he went through the depression, he faced the pity, he took time to grieve... it was an emotional hurricane. He sometimes turned his brain off by exercising too much, and the exhaustion of an extensive workout was a welcome and constant distraction. Alcohol used to help, but after a confusing night with HyukJae (during which nothing serious happened, HyukJae assured him the morning after) he questioned its effects on him and decided that it may not be the best time to start exploring things. All in all, he got past his father’s death intact.
But remaining intact didn’t necessarily mean being unchanged, and his change was subtle. HyukJae noticed but didn’t know what to do. So did LeeTeuk (because he noticed everything about his members) and RyeoWook (who just chalked it up to maturity). HanKyung noticed it only when Super Junior M was formed, and it was too late for him to do anything about it. If KiBum hadn’t been expecting it, he would think that DongHae was still the same guy.
* * *
“Bodily gasses aside, DongHae’s a great person,” KiBum said without much emotion. “But I’m not sure if he’s even realized how much he’s changed.”
“Has he?” ChangMin asked. He wasn’t that close to the rest of Super Junior. DongHae was definitely friendly back when they were trainees, and he was always jolly and conversant whenever they met after their own debuts, but the two never really developed a true personal relationship. ChangMin always saw him as the hyung he would shoot with a tranquilizer dart the first chance he got.
“More than anyone else realized.” There was a trace of bitterness in KiBum’s voice. For a group that was so intently focused on hyung-dongsaeng relationships, many of his hyungs in Super Junior seemed to have no idea what it was really like to have brothers. Some said it was because there were too many people. But if he and RyeoWook could do it, why couldn’t everyone else?
KiBum picked himself up from the floor and went straight to the bathroom. He loved living alone. He had his own freedom and liberties, and one of them was being able to relieve his bladder without closing the door. He and ChangMin were both guys, and they shouldn’t be too conscious about these things. He wasn’t, at least.
ChangMin resolutely turned his back towards the bathroom. He didn’t want KiBum to think that he was trying to sneak a peek. Even if KiBum had mild exhibitionist tendencies, and they’d just tease each other endlessly about it. No, peeking was beyond their dynamics.
ChangMin’s phone rang. A message. From JaeJoong-hyung. Where are you? I need a drink. The shoot was insane!
He pursed his lips and thought of what to say. At home. What happened? YooChun-hyung’s out drinking. Try calling him.
The reply was almost instant. I’m coming over. I don’t want to deal with crowds right now. Beer or soju?
“What gives?” KiBum asked as he settled back in place. He checked his own phone for messages. None. He wondered if he should feel relieved or abandoned.
“JaeJoong-hyung’s looking for me. What should I tell him?” ChangMin thought of the possibilities. JaeJoong-hyung’s shoot was about forty-five minutes away. If he left now, he could make it in time to pretend he hadn’t left home… Beer. I already had some so don’t bring a lot.
“He can come over if he wants,” KiBum offered. He wasn’t particularly keen on having another person over, but JaeJoong was a decent guy and ChangMin hero-worshipped him. He was a hyung… maybe he could offer some help?
“I think it would be better if I just go,” ChangMin said. He washed his face in the kitchen sink while KiBum started to clean up. “Sorry for just leaving like this.” He put on his cap and jacket.
“Meh. Don’t worry about it.”
“If you think of anything to do for LeeTeuk-hyung, tell me first, okay?” ChangMin said. Kibum walked him to the door, and once again, like so many times before, ChangMin wondered what it would be like to kiss him goodnight. He guessed he wouldn’t know.
KiBum nodded sincerely and watched ChangMin walk down the hall. He went back inside when ChangMin rounded a corner.
He could continue drinking by himself. That was another perk of living alone. But he had twelve brothers, some of whom may actually miss him like he missed some of them, and it really wouldn’t hurt to see them when he didn’t want to be alone. He took out his phone and dialed HanKyung-hyung’s number.
Notes: Originally published in miracle______
Author: 7dragon_zodiac / Verocity
Fandom: Super Junior, Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairings: KiBum [Super Junior] x ChangMin [DBSK]; EunHyuk x RyeoWook if you squint (other pairings will develop later on ;D)
Rating: I’m pretty sure it’s just G for now.
Warnings: Yaoi
Genre: General, romance
A/N: This is the first time I’m writing fanfic about boybands. Please bear with me. I write long stories with multiple chapters, with lots of stuff developing behind the scenes. This won’t be a fluff piece, and in future chapters it will deal with semi-serious stuff. Please note that these are how I personally interpret the characters based on their media appearances. Please be gentle with me. :D
Summary: The one where KiBum and ChangMin assess some of the SuJu members for a certain mission.
Word Count: 2,440
Everyone in the group had his own form of defense.
For example: the members thought LeeTeuk’s motherly tendencies were his way of coping with such a varied group, but it was, in truth, the cause of his stress. When the company chose him to lead Super Junior, and he looked at the (then) eleven other members who would be his wards, he knew with absolute certainty that he’d be lucky to stay sane for three years. He first turned to strictness and discipline, and it almost worked… but then HanKyung’s tongue grew sharper and there just shouldn’t be two disciplinarians in a group of twelve (thirteen now).
He next turned to gag… but he didn’t realize it was a bad idea until KangIn supported him with great enthusiasm. LeeTeuk thought of soldiering on. He fooled himself into believing he was invincible. By the time he realized his mistake, he was too far gone.
It was scary how the only person who seemed to know what was going on was also the only person he couldn’t seem to reach deeply enough.
KiBum, for all his desires for individuality and masculinity, understood enough about the group’s eldest to know that his realization came too late. He fully saw LeeTeuk’s actions for what they were: sacrifice. Perhaps the others saw it as well, but he was less affected by their cultural collectivism. He decided to have no part in driving anyone insane (as fun as that may sound) and in turn he would rather not be affected by its development. He moved out of the dorms with mixed feelings of guilt and relief.
But even if he lived and worked alone, away from their wacky hi jinks and unrelenting noise, and days would even pass without him seeing anyone other member… KiBum still felt loyal to his oldest hyung. And only to him.
He asked ChangMin’s opinion on the issue. “I really can’t say much,” Dong Bang Shin Ki’s youngest said. “There are only five of us and our ages are much closer than your group’s. YunHo-hyung didn’t carry the burden alone. Plus JaeJoong-hyung is actually much more mature than he shows in public.”
“So you don’t have anything helpful to say?” KiBum clarified. ChangMin became too roundabout when sensitive issues came up. It was a miracle that KiBum (with his trademark straightforwardness) could tolerate it. Beer actually helped a lot.
“I don’t have anything helpful from experience,” ChangMin answered, putting his mug down a little too hard on Kibum’s floor. YooChun had asked him out for drinks (as his hyungs always do, though with very limited success), but by then he was already on his way to KiBum’s. He simply told his hyung that he didn’t want to go out, and that he’d really rather drink alone tonight… He didn’t know if his hyungs figured it out - he wasn’t going to say anything, and certainly neither would KiBum. “But I can help you brainstorm.” He eyed his half-empty mug of beer, then KiBum’s almost-empty one. “I think we started the night wrong.”
“Nonsense.” KiBum was intelligent, definitely. His empathy, however, was a little atrophied. Alcohol did wonders for him.
ChangMin, on the other hand, only drank because he didn’t want his hyungs to see him as too young. Not that it helped since he never drank with his hyungs anyway. “So who do you think can help?”
* * *
RyeoWook relished the last chord as it faded to silence, his fingers pressed firmly against the keys. He wondered, briefly, if he should change the end to a minor progression… no, it would make the resolution seem less powerful.
Another night, another composition. He’d have to ask EunHyuk-hyung’s opinion on the piece, but he was at the dance studio, practicing with SungMin-hyung, DongHae-hyung, and ShinDong-hyung for a segment they’d star in.
RyeoWook sighed. For a group of artists, they really didn’t seem to have that many members who could appreciate art outside their genre. He usually relied a lot on SungMin-hyung for alternative reactions to his pieces, but lately he’s been more immersed in dancing than in music. It was good for SungMin-hyung to explore his talents… but RyeoWook had to admit, it did leave him slightly lonely. It used to hurt a lot being the least-capable dancer in the group. He didn’t know if he just learned to accept the fact, or if he’d learned to ignore the twinge of pain that comes whenever everyone else could connect through their movement… and he couldn’t. It felt a lot like being an outsider. It felt like he was dragging the group down.
Everyone tried their best to accommodate him, of course. EunHyuk-hyung took extra time to help him make his movements more natural, and LeeTeuk-hyung sometimes intervened to make RyeoWook’s steps less complicated whenever he was positioned at the front. SungMin-hyung sometimes offered to give him additional workshops, and RyeoWook appreciated him for it… but SungMin-hyung was already too busy, and if they held workshops it would take away what little rest time they had left. It was another reason why he didn’t want to bother SungMin-hyung (or anyone else) to react to his compositions.
But EunHyuk-hyung was different.
RyeoWook honestly preferred in-depth discussions about his music, hopefully involving how it can still be improved, how it made the others feel, maybe even some input on which parts to polish. But talks like that interested few people. YeSung-hyung would have helped gladly, and his opinions were often unconventional and surprising. That comes later, though. First, RyeoWook needed conventional and emotional approaches.
There was a time when EunHyuk-hyung wasn’t the first person he’d think of when looking for a reaction to his work. Hyung knew very little about music, and he had no interest in discussing emotional reactions to classical compositions. But hyung, afraid that he and RyeoWook were drifting apart, made him promise to share music with him, and Ryeowook, honoring the sincerity with which the promise was made, played an original composition for him then and there. As expected, hyung wasn’t much for conversation afterwards.
But when hyung suddenly stood up, said, “this is how it came to me,” then danced a cross between popping and what could have passed for ballroom, RyeoWook suddenly realized how much of an artist hyung really was. RyeoWook then made hyung promise to listen to his new compositions, and hyung said he would agree only if he was the first to listen to it. And from then on, a pact was formed.
And from then on, whenever he shared music with EunHyuk-hyung, the latter would respond with dancing and RyeoWook would see how his composition made hyung feel. Art in response to art. Slowly, RyeoWook accepted that he may not be a good dancer, but he still knew good dancing when he saw it, and he knew when dancing was just movement, and he could feel when dancing became art.
He reached for his phone and composed a message.
Hyung! I have a new song. Sleep well after you practice so you’ll have energy to listen when I play for you tomorrow~
And as promised, Eunhyuk-hyuk would be the first to hear RyeoWook’s new piece. But he was only the second-best choice. RyeoWook gazed at his computer’s screen. His wallpaper was a picture of the group taken in the dorm when KiBum still lived with them.
* * *
“He’ll help if I ask him to,” KiBum said flatly. “But I don’t think he can make much of an impact.”
“Being the youngest never really stopped me,” ChangMin replied. “And RyeoWook has his own strengths. You should know better than to judge people by their age.” He finally finished his beer and contemplated refilling his mug. KiBum was on his second, but then the guy had higher tolerance. And more experience.
ChangMin decided against it. He was reasonably sure that KiBum knew about his mild infatuation on him and just thought nothing of it; he’d always been openly encouraging of deepening their friendship. But more alcohol might screw things up for both of them - in different ways, but worse for ChangMin.
KiBum glared at the empty mug and drained the remains of their first bottle into it. “You can drink more than that and you know it.”
Well, scratch that. ChangMin sighed. “If I do anything we’ll both regret, know that it’s your fault.”
“As if I’d let you do anything stupid, punk.” Over the years, the two had developed conversations that delved deep into the realms of double-entendre. ChangMin was careful to not let anything obvious slip, and KiBum was sensitive enough to respond in kind.
“And I’d be a hypocrite if I let our age restrict us,” KiBum continued, back on topic. “RyeoWook takes care of everyone. Everyone. He doesn’t have the time or energy to focus on LeeTeuk-hyung.”
With more care and attention to his state of mind, ChangMin continued to drink. There was already a pleasant buzz somewhere in his head behind which bad things and stupid decisions hid. “Won’t he feel betrayed if you leave him out? He’d want to help LeeTeuk-hyung.”
“I know, I know.” Kibum lay on the floor. A bad move since it messed with his fluids, but he had enough resistance of overcome the consequences. He burped loudly to lessen the discomfort and looked quickly at ChangMin’s reaction.
ChangMin just playfully covered his nose. He liked the guy enough to be relieved that they were at this level of comfort, but not enough to be thankful for being subjected to his bodily gases. Some have commented that he was a bit too prissy about these things (YunHo-hyung in particular), but he liked to think that he was just hygienic.
KiBum grinned mischievously. “You wouldn’t survive a day with DongHae.”
“And I am eternally grateful for not being in Super Junior,” he responded sincerely. “Hmm. DongHae seems to have a lot of energy. Why not him?”
KiBum, still on the floor, just rolled his eyes.
“Why?” ChangMin asked innocently. “I thought you said he was smarter than he appears.”
“I still haven’t decided if I’m right or wrong.”
* * *
For the record, KiBum was right. What he really doubted was DongHae’s emotional stability.
It wasn’t as simple as being unable to cope with his father’s death. No, he handled that just fine. He cried the tears, he went through the depression, he faced the pity, he took time to grieve... it was an emotional hurricane. He sometimes turned his brain off by exercising too much, and the exhaustion of an extensive workout was a welcome and constant distraction. Alcohol used to help, but after a confusing night with HyukJae (during which nothing serious happened, HyukJae assured him the morning after) he questioned its effects on him and decided that it may not be the best time to start exploring things. All in all, he got past his father’s death intact.
But remaining intact didn’t necessarily mean being unchanged, and his change was subtle. HyukJae noticed but didn’t know what to do. So did LeeTeuk (because he noticed everything about his members) and RyeoWook (who just chalked it up to maturity). HanKyung noticed it only when Super Junior M was formed, and it was too late for him to do anything about it. If KiBum hadn’t been expecting it, he would think that DongHae was still the same guy.
* * *
“Bodily gasses aside, DongHae’s a great person,” KiBum said without much emotion. “But I’m not sure if he’s even realized how much he’s changed.”
“Has he?” ChangMin asked. He wasn’t that close to the rest of Super Junior. DongHae was definitely friendly back when they were trainees, and he was always jolly and conversant whenever they met after their own debuts, but the two never really developed a true personal relationship. ChangMin always saw him as the hyung he would shoot with a tranquilizer dart the first chance he got.
“More than anyone else realized.” There was a trace of bitterness in KiBum’s voice. For a group that was so intently focused on hyung-dongsaeng relationships, many of his hyungs in Super Junior seemed to have no idea what it was really like to have brothers. Some said it was because there were too many people. But if he and RyeoWook could do it, why couldn’t everyone else?
KiBum picked himself up from the floor and went straight to the bathroom. He loved living alone. He had his own freedom and liberties, and one of them was being able to relieve his bladder without closing the door. He and ChangMin were both guys, and they shouldn’t be too conscious about these things. He wasn’t, at least.
ChangMin resolutely turned his back towards the bathroom. He didn’t want KiBum to think that he was trying to sneak a peek. Even if KiBum had mild exhibitionist tendencies, and they’d just tease each other endlessly about it. No, peeking was beyond their dynamics.
ChangMin’s phone rang. A message. From JaeJoong-hyung. Where are you? I need a drink. The shoot was insane!
He pursed his lips and thought of what to say. At home. What happened? YooChun-hyung’s out drinking. Try calling him.
The reply was almost instant. I’m coming over. I don’t want to deal with crowds right now. Beer or soju?
“What gives?” KiBum asked as he settled back in place. He checked his own phone for messages. None. He wondered if he should feel relieved or abandoned.
“JaeJoong-hyung’s looking for me. What should I tell him?” ChangMin thought of the possibilities. JaeJoong-hyung’s shoot was about forty-five minutes away. If he left now, he could make it in time to pretend he hadn’t left home… Beer. I already had some so don’t bring a lot.
“He can come over if he wants,” KiBum offered. He wasn’t particularly keen on having another person over, but JaeJoong was a decent guy and ChangMin hero-worshipped him. He was a hyung… maybe he could offer some help?
“I think it would be better if I just go,” ChangMin said. He washed his face in the kitchen sink while KiBum started to clean up. “Sorry for just leaving like this.” He put on his cap and jacket.
“Meh. Don’t worry about it.”
“If you think of anything to do for LeeTeuk-hyung, tell me first, okay?” ChangMin said. Kibum walked him to the door, and once again, like so many times before, ChangMin wondered what it would be like to kiss him goodnight. He guessed he wouldn’t know.
KiBum nodded sincerely and watched ChangMin walk down the hall. He went back inside when ChangMin rounded a corner.
He could continue drinking by himself. That was another perk of living alone. But he had twelve brothers, some of whom may actually miss him like he missed some of them, and it really wouldn’t hurt to see them when he didn’t want to be alone. He took out his phone and dialed HanKyung-hyung’s number.
Notes: Originally published in miracle______