Tell Me You Love Me Chapter 11
Title: Tell Me You Love Me
Rating: PG-15 to be safe, strong Language
Pairing/Focus: Onew, Jongho, ninja
Summary: In the movies, when a singer lost their voice, all you had to do was break the shell and they got it back, and everyone lived happily ever after, lesson learned. But movies aren't real, and when a voice leaves, sometimes it doesn't want to come back, and some lessons leave marks that even happy endings can't erase. . . .
SO OH MY GOD. you don't even know my life right now. (except everyone who read the apology post kinda does) but for the last 3 weeks I've been writing, and kinda sort of locked up in my homophobic aunts house, so writing this was just like icing on the cake.
a few warnings. 1. this is a monster. a little over 10,000 words. second, i kind of rushed it threw my beta, much to her displeasure.
thank you for everyone who's still reading this. I will have chapter 12 up in less than a month, this time, i (maybe) promise.
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He couldn’t breathe. It was hot, beyond hot. Suffocating in the rancid air, the sweet smell of blood mixed in with the stench of rancid breath all around him. Laughter in his ears; dark, sinister and corrupted. Hands were tight all over his body, touching, defiling, squeezing and pushing. He tried to breathe, tried to tell them to stop, stop touching him, but the hands were on his neck, crushing him. Killing him. His chest ached as he tried to drag air in through his closed throat, his lungs burning with the need for it. He reached his arms out trying to defend himself, to knock the offending, disgusting hands away to let himself breathe, scratching at the skin he felt, pushing hard, but it wasn’t working. He couldn’t breathe. This was how he was going to-
“HYUNG!” Minho’s voice was loud and right next to his ear, and Jinki literally jumped out of his skin, curling his hands over his ears and rolling into a ball to hide from the noise, as he gasped for air like he was starved of it. I need-I can’t- he was aware he was making loud gasping noises, but there was nothing he could do about it, he needed more air, he was going to suffocate and die!
Suddenly strong arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight, making it hard for his chest to expand, to get the air he thought he needed. Jinki struggled and fought against the arms that were trying to kill him, but slowly his breathing began to go back to normal; his air flow being controlled by the tight hold the man behind him had. As Jinki calmed down, he became more aware of his surroundings, of the tearful voice from the man behind him, begging him to calm down. Everything will be alright; he just has to calm down, please, Hyung, deep breaths. So Jinki closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, taking in deep, measured breaths as he sagged against the boy holding him. It had to be Jonghyun. Minho’s arms were longer and not as muscular. He was pressed so tightly to the singer he could feel it when the younger boy inhaled and exhaled, so Jinki tried to match his breathing.
“Are you okay, Hyung?” Jonghyun sounded less like he was choking on tears now, and when the older boy nodded he pulled away, allowing Jinki to roll onto his back to face him. The younger boy’s eyes were red rimmed and a little swollen, and Jinki reached up to wipe away the residual wet from the singer’s cheek, wondering what happened to make him cry.
“You gave us quite the scare, you know,” the slighter boy continued, smoothing a hand through the sleepy leader’s sweat matted hair. “You were having a nightmare. We kept trying to wake you up but nothing was working. You’re quite the fighter.” Jinki frowned, trying to sit up, blinking away sleep as he tried to make sense out of what the younger boy told him.
“What?” he asked quietly. His throat felt raw and a little abused, and he rubbed it absently.
“Yeah, you were screaming,” the younger boy said as he gently took the leader’s hand away from his neck, and then Jonghyun lifted his arms to show Onew the scratches that decorated them. “You fought like a wild cat when Minho and I tried to wake you up, or touch you at all. You even punched him in the nose! You should have heard his squeak!” Jonghyun broke off at the distressed noise the older boy made. “No, you’re right, that’s not funny. Don’t worry or anything, we’re not angry. He’s just cleaning his face.” Jink reached out a hand and gently touched one of the few scratched that seemed to have drawn some blood, his hand shaking. Did he really do this to Jonghyun, to Minho?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling his hand back and trying to pull away from the younger boy. Jinki tried to resist the younger singer’s warmth; he didn’t deserve it after what he’d done to them, but it was a soothing, reliable warmth, unlike the extreme heat of his dream.
“What were you dreaming about, Sugar Muffin?” the slighter man asked, gently running his hand up and down the length of Onew’s spine. The older boy shuddered and snuggled closer the Jonghyun, burying his head into the younger man’s neck. He didn’t want to remember. He wanted to lie like this forever and pretend the world didn’t exist beyond the bedroom door.
Jjong sighed and let the older man avoid his question, choosing instead to simply enjoy holding the leader as close as he was allowed to, humming some random song to hopefully keep the older boy relaxed. Jinki would tell him when he was ready, but the lead singer hoped that would be before the older boy decided he needed to take the information to an early grave again.
“Am I interrupting?” a deep voice asked from the door, causing Jinki to jerk back, away from Jonghyun, in surprise. Minho chuckled, walking up to the bed, a small ice pack held to his nose.
“I’m so sorry,” Jinki whispered, regret filling his voice. He turned and buried his head under a pillow before Minho could say anything. The youngest boy shot a questioning look at Jonghyun, who just shook his head, then leaned over to lie along the older boy’s back.
“Hyung, I swear to god, Minho and I are not mad at you. Will you please stop hiding? You’re going to make the alien think I did something to you.” Jinki popped his head up slowly, to see if Minho did indeed suspect Jonghyun of doing something devious to him, only to be greeted by Minho’s winning smile, not the least bit dimmed by the slightly rust colored smudge along his chin bone. Frowning, Jinki sat up, licked his thumb, and leaned over to rub at the small smear until it was gone, ignoring the looks he was getting from the younger boys.
“You should wash your face better,” he said.
“Sorry, Umma,” the tallest boy said, trying to sound sheepish but his couldn’t hide the amusement in his tone, as he crawled onto the bed to lay beside the leader. “Will you forgive me?” Jinki grumbled something about obnoxious children and nodded, looking down at his injured hand. Jonghyun laughed and gently coaxed Onew back down onto the bed.
“Now that we’ve all forgiven each other, can we get back to sleep?” Jonghyun said. “We have the day off and I intend to sleep through most of it.” Then he stretched and loosely wrapped his arm around Jinki’s waist.
Minho’s face fell slightly, but he had to nod when the oldest boy took his hand and whispered a soft, “Minho-yah, you too, okay?” He’d really wanted to talk about what happened the night before, but it was still relatively early, and there wouldn’t be any harm in just sleeping for a little while longer, right? Well, unless Jinki had another nightmare, that is.
They woke next with Key yelling at the top of his lungs about aliens and dinosaurs and how come no one woke him up when Jinki didn’t come home, for god’s sake. What if something happened!?
“We should probably go and tell him I’m alright,” Jinki mumbled, but kept his eyes closed as he pressed deeper into Minho’s chest, trying to stay as asleep as possible. The rapper grunted and stuck a foot out to push Jonghyun off the bed. The younger singer hit the floor with a startled yelp, sounding more like a wounded puppy than a dinosaur.
“Go and deal with him,” Minho muttered. “I can’t get up; Hyung’s on me.” If looks could kill, thousands of fan girls would be crying as Jonghyun glared at the tallest boy, and dragged himself up and to the door, grumbling something about how come he always had to deal with Key whenever he had some kind of melt down in the morning? It wasn’t fair. He just wanted to sleep.
“Hey! Stupid Face! Hyung’s in here with us. Stop your goddamn shrieking and let me get back to sleep! Do you have any idea what time it is?” he yelled down the hall at the diva, who had apparently been pacing its length in his distress. The younger male paused in mid step and turned, stalking towards the dino like a man on a mission.
“Did you just call my face stupid?!” the diva hissed, backing Jonghyun into a wall. “My face? I’m the smartest looking person in SHINee next to Jinki-Hyung, and that’s debatable, because it’s hard to tell when he’s face down on the floor!”
The lead singer blinked rapidly, confusion clear in his big eyes. “What?” he asked after a moment, his tired brain trying to figure out what just happened. His plan had been to yell at Kibum, accept apology, and then sleep until tomorrow. Key yelling back at him wasn’t a part of the plan.
“Also, for your information, it’s TWO in the afternoon! Go brush your teeth ’cause your breath reeks. Lunch will be ready soon. And wake up Minho, too!” the younger boy snapped. “Just because the two of you bumped uglies all night long doesn’t mean you get to sleep in. God, do you know how thin these walls are? Ugh!”
Inside the manager’s, room Minho buried his head into Jinki’s shoulder to muffle his laughter as he listened to Jonghyun get railroaded by Key. The older rapper was distressed and Minho understood. The last time they lost Onew, things had ended extremely badly. A small tug on his shirt brought Minho’s attention to Jinki, who was staring at him with big, innocent eyes and worrying his bottom lip.
“Minho-yah,” he whispered, looking away when their eyes met, “I think…Jonghyun-ah called me ‘Sugar Muffin’ this morning.” A slight blush painted the older man’s cheeks, and Minho didn’t know if he wanted to groan at the lead singer’s cheesiness in private settings or kiss the delicate boy he was holding in his arms.
The rapper decided to sigh dramatically. “Yes, it’s a…quirk our beloved puppy has shown of late, that was previously hidden. I will never understand why he thinks we need a cute name, or why either of us would want to be addressed like that.”
Jinki blushed a little darker. “I…kind of like it,” he said and started to say more when a loud whoop made the older man jump and scramble to hide between Minho and the wall.
“Jinki-Hyung thinks it’s cute, Minho! Your argument is now forever invalid,” Jonghyun explained, jumping onto the bed like a sugar high ten-year-old. Minho scowled darkly, but the smaller man just laughed, placing a quick kiss on the rapper’s anger-thinned lips before standing up. “Well, Key only told me to wake Minho’s lazy ass up, but lunch is done, so I guess it’s good that both of you are up.”
Jinki perked up at the mention of food, but hesitated. “Can we…eat in here, just us three?” He shifted his eyes from a random spot on the bed to the confused faces of the other boys, then back to the blankets. “Never mind, I guess it would be troublesome.”
“Hyung?” Minho asked, reaching down to gently grasp the eldest boy’s hand. “Is there something going on between you and Key and Taemin? You mentioned them last night-”
“Come on, the food is getting cold!” Jonghyun interrupted playfully pulling at Jinki until he stood. “I’ll help you get dressed.” Jinki protested, and ultimately got dressed in his wardrobe, after a quiet but persistent assurance that he could do it himself. Key, angry with how late they slept (among other things, as the term ‘bumping uglies’ came up repeatedly) pushed Minho and Jjong back into the manager’s room, ordering them to clean it up before they could eat his food.
“Jonghyun,” Minho addressed as they both made the bed.
What is it, Pineapple?” the singer asked, distractedly trying to figure out if pillows go under the sheet, or over the sheet but under the blanket, or over everything.
Minho froze and stared at him. “…Did you just call me ‘Pineapple’? …How is that even an endearment? It’s a prickly fruit. Jjong, do you think I’m a prickly fruit?”
“I do now…” the older boy muttered, choosing to leave the pillows under the blanket. “Sorry, I won’t call you that again. What do you need?”
The rapper shook his head and walked closer to the slighter boy, “We need to talk about last night.”
Jonghyun tensed, but continued to put the extra blankets they used away. “Why? Nothing really happened. Everyone’s still breathing and all the sleeping pills are gone. Nothing to talk about.”
“We need to tell Dr. Choi,” Minho insisted, trying to corner the singer so they could talk face to face. “She’s his psychologist; she needs to know he tried to-”
“So he can tell her next time he sees her,” the older boy interrupted, gathering up Jinki’s clothes and trying to leave.
Minho grabbed his arm, making him stop. “She needs to know now. She can help him before he tries it again.”
Jjong let out a harsh breath and rounded on the taller boy. “He’s not going to try it again, Minho. He’ll be with one of us so he won’t be able to, anyway.”
The rapper sighed. “Hyung, we’re away from home, and Jinki-Hyung, a lot. He’ll be here, by himself, until he’s ready to face the fans. And the questions. At best, that’s weeks away. That’s weeks of him being here by himself, unsupervised. He’s emotionally unstable; anything could send him into a depression like he was in last night. And more likely than not, we’re not going to be here for him.”
“He’s fine,” Jonghyun hissed, turning to leave. “He’s getting better. He’s fine.”
Minho sighed and sat down heavily on the bed he just made. Jonghyun stubbornly didn’t want to see what was right in front of his face. Jinki could die before the younger singer realized that the man they loved needs more help than they can give him.
~*~*~*~
Minho didn’t understand why he didn’t feel relieved when he got off the phone with Dr. Choi. She said that she’d take care of it, and she was a trust worthy person, so he couldn’t understand why his gut twisted weirdly whenever he thought about her. Maybe it was just because he was uncomfortable speaking about what happened last night?
After dinner, the tall rapper had somehow gotten roped into reading The Little Prince aloud to everyone, as Jinki snuggled against him and Jonghyun dozed lightly in his lap. Every so often, Jinki would reach down and poke the singer on the forehead to wake him up. Taemin had moved closer to them so that they could alternate pokes, sharing secret smiles with each other as Jjong batted at their hands and weakly whined for Minho or Key to make them stop picking on him. It was the closest they’d been to normal since before Jinki had been attacked, so Minho didn’t mind that much that it was clear only Onew was really listening to him, anyway.
He was halfway done with the book when there was a sudden, insistent knocking on the door. Onew pouted heavily when the tallest boy stopped reading to look at where the noise was coming from, but Key was quick to volunteer himself to answer it, and selflessly stated that Minho could continue reading in his absence. A few moments later, however, an extremely perturbed Key walked back into the room, followed by their manager, who was looking more and more frazzled by the day.
“Jinki-yah,” the overworked man said, trying to sound enthused and happy, but failing. “Will you please come with me? Dr. Choi needs to see you right away.” Minho felt his stomach drop as Onew tensed beside him. Jonghyun’s eyes snapped open, glaring at the taller rapper as he sat up and offered to help Jinki get ready. They didn’t get to walk him to the car as the delicate leader was rushed out the door, Manager pushing them back inside and telling them to go to sleep because their day would start early tomorrow.
When the door closed, Jonghyun turned angry eyes on Minho. “I can’t believe you. Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to even look at you right now,” he said, and stalked off into the bedroom, slamming the door shut, only to fling it open, throw Minho’s bed things out, and slam it shut again.
~*~*~
Onew remembered to thank the driver when he got out of the car this time, making his way through the familiar halls of the hospital to Dr. Choi’s office. She was pacing inside her office when he got there. His jacket, he noticed happily, as it was a gift from Jonghyun last winter, was still hung carefully on the coat rack.
“Jinki! Please, come sit,” Dr. Choi said when he walked in, ushering him to the couch. She looked strained, he noticed. The wrinkles around her eyes seemed bigger, like she’d aged tremendously in the short time they’d been apart.
“Dr. Choi…” he started, then stopped, his gaze flickering to his jacket, remembering why he left it here to begin with, then back to the doctor. “Why am I here?”
The woman cleared her throat and looked at him carefully. “You tell me, Jinki.” The idol flinched and looked away, ashamed that she knew what he’d tried to do the night before. “You told me yesterday that you were going to be okay,” she said disappointedly. “I believed you, and I let you go home.” She stood and faced the window of her office, its normally breathtaking view of the Seoul cityscape nothing more than an emotional distraction as she fought not to get overwhelmed.
“I’m not a fool, Jinki. I know why my sister assigned your case to me, and if I had the choice, I wouldn’t want to do this to my actual brother any more than I want to do this to you,” she paused and looked over at him, moving to sit opposite him on the table in front of the couch, and grasped his hand gently. “I am so sorry Jinki, but this is out of my hands now. We weighed the options, and this is the best choice.” She gave his hand an affectionate squeeze and stood again, walking over to her desk to write something. “I’m committing you to this hospital’s mental health ward, Jinki. You’ll be placed under constant surveillance for a minimum of two weeks to ensure that nothing like what happened last night will happen again.”
Onew’s breath caught and he tensed, his brain coming to a screeching halt for the second time in this office in as many days. Committed. But…but…I’m not insane! I don’t, I shouldn’t…I don’t want to be here! Jonghyun! Minho! Dr. Choi moved closer again, reaching out a hand to touch him and he jerked back, angrily.
“I don’t want to,” he said stubbornly, getting up to get his coat. He wouldn’t forget it this time. “I’m not crazy.”
Dr. Choi sighed deeply. “I’m afraid you have to. I’m sorry Jinki, I really am, but starting now, you’ll be staying here where real, trained professionals can monitor and care for you. Your friends can come and visit in a few days.”
Jinki turned to gape at her. She had to be lying. She had to be. He didn’t have to stay here. He wasn’t crazy.
“Minho and Jonghyun look after me,” he said quietly, hugging his coat to his chest. “They are very good at it.”
“I’m sure they are, but they can’t always be there, Jinki,” she paused and tried to look encouraging. “With how well you’re doing, you’ll only need to stay the minimum two weeks. In no time at all, you’ll be back home to them. And look on the bright side, you’ll be safe here, from everything and anything.” She smiled a little, as if she were trying to reassure him. He just blinked at her. It didn’t sink in until after Manager had lent Jinki his phone and a tired and disgruntled sounding Kibum answered the phone.
“Who the hell calls this late at night, really? This better be either God, or Lady Gaga, otherwise I will personal hunt you down and rip your-”
“Kibummie.” Jinki winced at how rough his voice sounded, choked up with the tears he was trying to fight.
“…Hyung? God what…what happened? Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll wake up Jonghyun. Where are you? KIM JONGHYUN, I am NOT your ‘Sugar Bunny’, I don’t even…that’s just gross! Wake your fat ass up right now!”
In spite of it all, Jinki found himself chuckling, “I’m fine, Kibum-ah. I’m just going to be staying at the hospital for a little while.” Jinki could hear Jonghyun over the line yelling about how some people needed to sleep, but that was it. He couldn’t even hear the young diva breathing. “Kibum?”
“You’re…you’re staying there?” The younger boy sounded a little weird over the line, but the leader figured that maybe there was a storm in the area.
“Yeah. Just for a few weeks, nothing bad.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Key it was okay, or himself. “You guys can come and visit me the day after tomorrow if you’re free.” I hope you’re free, he added silently, his mind drifting back to The Little Prince and how it was left unfinished in Minho’s hands.
“Yeah…yeah,” Key’s voice sounded hollow; must be a bad storm. “Let me wake everyone up to say goodnight to you.”
~*~*~*~*~
The hospital wasn’t as bad as Jinki had first imagined, which meant really that there were no raving psychos muttering into the night, no creepy lotion references, or anyone trying to eat him, but sometimes someone started screaming for no reason, or the other patients would try and touch him when they were allowed to mingle, so Jinki just curled himself into a corner with a book or something, or chatted shyly with one of the lady attendants or Dr. Choi when she came to talk with him. Mostly it was just a lot of disinterested orderlies pushing pill and food carts around. A lot of “you look just like that boy from SHINee” ’s, a lot of being watched wherever he went, forming into circles to talk about feelings. A lot of bad food, bad entertainment, and bad sleep. A lot of people he didn’t want close to him…and a lot of Dr. Choi.
After the first day they were allowed to visit, Jinki didn’t see much of SHINee unless he turned the TV on. The world still thought he was at home, recovering from whatever had sent him to the hospital. Complications from a broken leg, or whatever the cover story was. He missed Minho and Jonghyun with a fierce ache in his chest. In the clinical coldness of the hospital he missed their warmth and their comforting touches when he was scared.
Dr. Choi helped. They talked almost every day about everything. Six days before he would be able to go home, Dr. Choi told him a person matching his attacker’s description was found in a car that had exploded upon crashing into a gas station. She asked him how he felt about it, and he told her outright. Was he supposed to be happy someone had died? Sure, he was relieved, monumentally relieved, that that monster…was gone, would never hurt him, or bother Taemin, anymore. But death isn’t something Jinki had wished on him, or could wish on anyone. He’d gotten sullen and quiet all day, morally at odds with his feelings. Dr. Choi had snuck him fried chicken in her next visit, hoping he’d feel better.
The first time Dr. Choi could sit Jinki down after he started to stay in the hospital was right after SHINee left. She felt bad, really, but there was protocol to follow. She should have had Jinki stay the night she broke the news to him, but nothing in his character to date had hinted towards suicidal depression.
He was holding on to his raggedy little bunny when she walked in, staring off into space, curled up tightly on his standard issue hospital bed.
“Jinki-yah?” she asked cautiously, taking a seat next to his bed. “Are you okay?”
He blinked at her, startled out of his thoughts, and smiled weakly. “Yeah. They’re very busy lately. I don’t think I’ll get to see them again before I’m released.”
She nodded, making a note of how resigned he sounded. “They have been very busy lately, yes. I follow them closely now, because of you. You’re all very talented.”
“They,” he corrected quietly, looking down at his bunny again. “I haven’t sang with the since…in a long time.”
Dr. Choi didn’t look sad or startled by this news. She probably expected it, given his past issues with talking, but she did look intrigued. “Do you want to?” she asked, making little notes on her pad. “To sing, that is.”
He inhaled sharply and looked out his window. “May 25th was the best day of my life,” he said after a while. “The only other days that come close to it are days where the five of us are performing. I miss it.” He whispered the last part like it was a secret, glancing at the psychologist briefly before looking away. “But…I don’t really feel…like an idol anymore. For the last few months, I’ve been hiding…and sleeping…and that’s not what idols do…” he trailed off, sighing heavily.
“And what do idols do?” the doctor asked softly, gently trying to get Jinki to continue speaking.
“Everything it takes to bring happiness to their fans,” the singer replied almost instantly. “They sing and dance and perform, even when they’re sick or hurt or exhausted, because when you step on stage, feel the roar of the crowd, it’s all worth it.” The shrink nodded, scribbling away furiously in her notebook. “Taemin still practices his dance moves in the living room after he finishes his homework. Jonghyun does scales in the bathroom every morning, and I want to be a part of that again, but I…I can’t.”
Dr. Choi looked up at him. “But if you could, would you go back to being an idol?”
“In a heartbeat. I loved being part of SHINee.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Jonghyun didn’t talk to Minho for five days unless they were with Jinki at the hospital. Not for interviews or TV shows. It was obvious that they were suddenly distant, but Jonghyun just straight up refused to speak with the taller boy, and because they didn’t see Jinki often, they barely spoke. The only reason their cold war ended was because Minho got down on his knees and begged Jjong to forgive him. He hadn’t thought that calling Dr. Choi would lead to Jinki being taken away from them.
After that, the surrogate leader had clung to his taller boyfriend like he was scared Minho would leave, too. Maybe it had something to do with Key and Taemin disappearing for two hours after practice every night, or because they had no free time to see Jinki after the day they gave him a proper goodbye. Minho let the clinginess and the neediness and the “Sugar Plum”-esk endearments happen, feeling guilty about Jinki and maybe a little needy and clingy himself. The dorm felt more empty and lifeless than ever.
Three days before Jinki was coming home, Taemin and Key sat Minho and Jonghyun down and told them that Taemin had been attending some therapy sessions of his own to help work out his issues with what happened to Jinki. Jonghyun laughed a bit, even as Minho and Key hit him, saying that the next thing they knew, they were all going to be in some kind of therapy. Key gave him a sharp look and continued, saying that most of what’s bothered Taemin was stress and a physical outlet would help.
“But you guys dance, like, all the time,” Jonghyun cut in. “Isn’t that physical exercise?”
“A directed physical outlet, ass hat,” Key retorted, and informed them both that Taemin and himself were taking self-defense lessons. The diva kicks Jonghyun until he asks for a demonstration, but by then it was clear that Key was probably just looking for an excuse to touch Taemin. Minho ended the conversation with a warm congratulations and later he and Jonghyun argued about who blushed redder, Key or Taemin, until it was late into the night and Key yelled at them to shut up or he’d demonstrate his new abilities on them.
~*~*~*~*~
No one else was home when his manager, the nice one who really didn’t mean to scare him that one time, stress affects everyone differently you know, ushered him inside. The first thing Jinki did was take a shower and wash all his clothes, clean or not, because everything from his coat to Usa-chan reeked of sterilized hospital and Jinki didn’t want to smell it anymore. Then he went and rolled around on his big middle bed and got dressed. He was pretty sure he was wearing Key’s underwear, Minho’s pants, Jonghyun’s shirt, and that his socks had Taemin’s face on them, and he felt accomplished. He didn’t think he’s ever missed something this fiercely since he spent his first nights in the trainee dorm longing for his mother.
The dryer went off suddenly, and he extracted himself from the bedroom only to bury himself in his nice warm clothes that smelled like the fabric softener that Kibum was so very particular about and will spend hours searching for if he has to. That’s the fastest I’ve ever gotten into a car, he thought, as he sat on top of the dryer, rumbling with life as Jinki needlessly ran more clothes through the wash so he could create a great big pile of warmth and lay in it. He felt like a child again as the machine thundered under him. It was a bit loud and probably needed to be looked at, but at that moment he didn’t care because he was swinging his legs and giggling like a madman.
He pouted a little when it stopped, but hastily pulled the clothes and towels out, and burrowed into his pile like a raccoon, planning on surprising the other boys when they got home.
~*~*~*~
A piercing shriek woke the dozing idol, followed quickly by a slamming door and more yelling.
“I don’t know if you’re dead or not, but I know hapkido! But I’m only allowed to use it if you attack me first, I’m warning you!” Jinki blinked sleepily at the door, trying to figure out where he was and what was going on. Inhaling deeply, he relaxed a little, realizing he was in the laundry room. He must have fallen asleep waiting. He got up and stretched, his body stiff from the awkward way he was sleeping, then walked over and knocked gently at the door.
“Oh my god!” Jinki smiled a little as the boy on the other side jumped. He didn’t remember Taemin knowing any form of self-defense, but he could be lying. “KEY-HYUNG! There’s a man in our laundry room and he’s trying to get me!”
The older idol groaned quietly. Trust Taemin to always jump to the weirdest conclusions. Then he went to sit on the washing machine. It was probably better to wait there than to try and leave and maybe get hurt.
Taemin, on the other hand, had been jumpy all day. The other boys figured he was just nervous about Onew coming home. His therapist said that he needed to apologize to the older boy for how he’d been acting before he left, saying that Taemin would be surprised how something like apologizing would affect him, but when he started screaming about men in their laundry room, Key had just figured he’d somehow gone off the deep end.
The magnae attached himself to Key’s back, clutching onto his shirt and peering over his shoulder when the older boy came to investigate. He whispered a soft “Hyung, be careful” as Key gripped the door knob and turned it. ”You chose the wrong house!” the dancer yelled over Key’s shoulder.
“Wow, Tae, you’re really brave,” the older boy muttered as he opened the door, “But I swear to god if there isn’t any one in here-” he cut himself off as he turned the light on to see Onew sitting on the washing machine looking generally sad and pouty.
“Hyung?” the diva couldn’t have sounded more surprised if he tried. Why was Jinki in their laundry room? What was he even doing at home? Wasn’t he supposed to be getting out tomorrow? They had a surprise planned and everything. “What…what are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?”
The older boy sighed and hopped off the appliance. “No,” he said. The younger two gapped like fish because this was the first time that Jinki had ever really talked to them. “I got out a few hours ago,” he sighed again, but then smiled, not quite his normal one, but close. And Key found himself smiling along with him. “It’s okay. I had planned on scaring you, but Taemin is just as good.”
Dumbfounded, the diva nodded. “Well come sit in the living room like a normal person. I’ll call Jjong and Minho, tell them your home.” Taemin, however, continued to hide behind the older dancer as the three of them made their way into the living room awkwardly. It was the first time that Jinki had sat in the living room without Usa-chan; he felt almost naked as he picked at the invisible threads on Minho’s pants. In the kitchen, he could hear Key’s voice, rapidly speaking over the phone.
“A few hours, apparently. We got home not too long ago. Just come home as soon as possible. No! Don’t rush them, they’ll mess it up. Listen…listen…LISTEN! I know he wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, okay? But what do you want me to do? …Okay, yeah. Okay. See you.”
The older boy tried not to make it obvious he was listening in, but with the lack of other noise in the dorm, there wasn’t really anything else to do. Kibum came back in a few moments later, placing a soda Jinki didn’t know he wanted until he looked at it down in front of the older man, and settled a little closer to Taemin that Onew would have deemed necessary in normal social settings. Jinki frowned a bit, wondering if he was causing the young band umma some kind of distress, but pushed those thoughts away. He’d ask Minho or Jonghyun about it later.
“We thought you were coming home tomorrow,” Key explained, disrupting the silence that had settled around them. “We only have practice tomorrow and that’s in the morning, so we were all going to get you.” The older boy nodded, the tightness in his face and chest that had betrayed how he felt about being forgotten relaxed. It was a mistake, nothing more. Then he blinked and cocked his head to the side.
“Practice?” he asked. “For what?”
Taemin and Key traded looks before Key sighed heavily. “That can wait until the others get home. Right now, Taemin has something he needs to say to you.” The magnae hit Key, glaring at him, but the older dancer had a much better ‘bitch-don’t-you-dare’ glare and coupled with the diva’s “I am your mother and you will do as I say” face, Taemin was outclassed and didn’t stand a chance. He cleared his throat and shifted around Key to get closer to the band leader.
“Hyung, I-” he broke off, taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose. “Jinki-Hyung, I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately. With you…and to you. I wasn’t handling…this…as well as I should have in order to help you and I’m…I’m really, really sorry.” Taemin looked down at his lap, breathing deeply as if he were trying not to cry.
Jinki blinked at him, a little stunned by the apology. Sure, Taemin wasn’t exactly being the most adult person in the mess their lives had turned into, but given his age, was it fair to expect anything more from him? The older boy slowly reached out to grasp the dancer’s hand, his whole arm shaking as he hesitantly twined their fingers together. Onew pushed through the heavy feeling in his gut because this was Taemin for goodness sakes, and the magnae wasn’t going to hurt him. The touch made the youngest look up at him sharply.
“Taeminnie,” Jinki said, smiling softly. “It’s okay.”
It was a bit awkward after that, the room plunged into silence after Taemin’s small ‘thank you’. Key had decided to go clean the laundry room, and a very sheepish Onew stayed quiet as Taemin hurried after.
Jinki went and retrieved the book he’d been reading in the hospital; an old, English copy of The Fox and The Hound that Dr. Choi had lent him. He wasn’t very far into it, but he wanted to finish, and keeping his English skills sharp might come in handy later in case…just in case. He was muscling his way through chapter four when the last two SHINee members came home. Jonghyun disappeared into the kitchen before Jinki could get a good look at him, but Minho headed straight for him, only stopping about a foot away from the older boy.
“I’m going to hug you,” the rapper announced, and barely waited long enough for the older boy to stand up before Jinki was enveloped in the warmth that was Minho. Onew reached around and clutched the taller boy’s shirt, pulling him closer as the singer breathed deeply, trying to commit the boy’s scent to memory. However, something was different, and Jinki pulled away with a sharp sniff, frowning as he tried to figure out what Minho smelt like that was different than normal.
He didn’t really get time to before a loud “I want a hug too!” and a solid warmth attached itself to his back. Onew smiled, relaxing back into Jonghyun’s embrace, and really, finally, felt like he was home.
Then suddenly it clicked, and he turned around so fast he startled the two boys holding him. “Chicken!” he struggled out of the boys’ grasp and headed straight for the kitchen, only to be stopped by Key, who had somehow managed to get in the door way when he wasn’t looking.
“I told you to put it in the trunk!” the umma scolded, holding his hands out to ward Onew away from his favorite dish. “Now he knows! What kind of a surprise is this?”
The older man turned to Minho and Jonghyun and blinked owlishly, “Surprise?”
Jonghyun sighed overdramatically. “Yes. We were supposed to pick you up tomorrow, so he had plans for tomorrow. Key called us so we did the best we could and picked you up a…welcome home chicken, I guess?”
Jinki slowly nodded, then turned back to Key. “I’m home now, so can I have my chicken now, please?”
The diva sighed and stepped out of the way. “I guess,” he bemoaned, seeing the perfect meal he’d had planned in his mind’s eye vanish in a puff of smoke. Onew wasted no time rushing past the younger boy and into the kitchen, grabbing five plates and starting to serve the food.
“You guys have no idea how bad hospital food is,” he said randomly, as he piled the deliciously fried fowl onto separate plates, his somehow holding more than the others. “Everything was bland, runny, or chalky.” Jonghyun and Minho shared smiles as they watched the older boy. It had only been two weeks (only the longest two weeks of their lives), but Onew was initiating conversations by himself. Maybe, as much as they all hated it, Jinki’s time in the hospital really was for the best. Minho raised an eyebrow at the slighter boy, as if to say just that, and Jonghyun just slapped his chest and walked past him, not ready to admit he was wrong.
During dinner it became clear that while the older boy had certainly become more comfortable with his voice, he was timid about when he used it, waiting for everyone else to finish talking before he said anything.
“So, Kibum,” Jinki started, trying not to shift nervously when everyone looked at him. “What were you going to tell me earlier? About what you’re practicing?” The table fell silent, and Key kicked Jonghyun under the table, trying to get him to talk. The older boy glared, but sighed and put his utensils down.
“Jinki-yah…Management has decided that we need to start thinking about our next debut. They said that, if you’re not ready, we could either continue as four, or they have some promising trainees, but it’s going to happen. You can still live with us, if you want,” he offered sounding like that was just a ‘look on the bright side’ proposal. “Management was hoping that you’d sing again soon, that’s why they haven’t terminated your contract yet.” Onew closed his eyes as the heartbreaking news washed over him, but he couldn’t say that he was surprised by it. This was something Dr. Choi had talked with him about.
“You’re starting the new song tomorrow?” he asked carefully, trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Dance practice starts tomorrow,” Key said softly. He felt bad, really bad, about the whole situation, but he had agreed; they all had. They couldn’t keep acting like Jinki was going to bounce back, and putting their lives on hold to wait for when that might happen. Still, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“Oh,” the leader’s tone was light, but the breath he took after that shook a little, then he sighed. “Can…can I come?” Taemin nearly choked on his chicken, and Key hurriedly slapped him on the back, as Jonghyun and Minho just stared at the eldest boy, who flushed and started to fidget. “I mean, if that’s okay.”
The boys traded hesitant looks and were silent for a while. Jinki blinked rapidly at the sudden quiet and fought to keep himself in check. He uttered a small “Okay” and excused himself, heading to their shared bedroom, before hesitating, slowly reaching a hand out to the door, before snatching it back and hurrying into the manager’s room.
“Nicely done,” Key commented dryly, kicking at Jonghyun and Minho under the table again, not really caring which one he hit. “The day he thinks we forgot about him, the day he comes home from a mental hospital, you geniuses insinuate we don’t want him at practice. Nice, way to build up the trust again.”
The singer glared at Kibum. “You know, you guys were part of the conversation, too. You could have said something at any time, you know!” Minho sighed and stood up, dragging the older boy away by the wrist. Key smirked as if he’d won something, but Jonghyun sneered and yelled. “You’re doing the dishes you…you…just do them!” Minho rolled his eyes, adjusted so that he was holding Jonghyun’s hand, and were about to walk into the manager’s room, if the quiet muttering from inside didn’t make them pause.
“I’m sure there’s a good reason they don’t want me to go, Usa-chan. I know they don’t hate me. I mean, if I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t want an out of shape idol stepping in on my dance practice,” Jinki took in an unsteady breath, and exhaled out slowly. “I just wanted to go and be with them. I miss them so much…but… it’s not the end of the world… it’s just the end of my career as SHINee’s leader…” His voice got tight and he broke off with a hiccup. Jonghyun shot a brief, angry glance with Minho, who was rapidly shaking his head no, but his older boyfriend never let a chance to let his emotions get the best of him slip away, and stormed into the room, startling Jinki, who had been sitting with his legs drawn up to his chest on the bed, Usa-chan at eye level with him.
“…Jonghyun?” the elder asked softly, then hastily wiped his face, as if he could rub the red wetness out of his eyes away. “Is something wrong?” The anger that had fueled his entrance into the room disappeared the instant Jonghyun’s eyes met his leader’s, and Onew looked away.
“Hyung,” the singer muttered, oddly at a loss for words as he watched the older boy compose himself. The slighter boy felt Minho approach behind him and ran a soothing hand down his back, as if to offer comfort to him as he tried to comfort their leader. The singer leaned back a little, into the touch, sighing as he relaxed into the silent strength that was Minho. “Hyung, are you okay?”
The older boy smiled up at them. “I’m as good as can be expected,” he said brightly, though his words sounded forced and practiced.
Minho sighed and moved to sit down next to Onew. “Hyung, we don’t… not want you to come with us, it’s just…the practice studio…” he cut himself off and looked away.
Jonghyun swallowed hard and sat on the empty side of the bed, taking Jinki’s hand carefully. “That night, when…we forgot you. It was at the practice studio, wasn’t it?” The older boy blinked at the boys next to him, confused, but then realization dawned on him, and he buried his face in Usa-chan, blinking back even more tears because they didn’t not want him there, they were just concerned for him.
“God, I cry so much lately,” he muttered. “The only person I know who cries more is you, Jonghyun.” He laughed a little, looking up the Jjong and Minho, who were just frowning at him in confusion. “I wasn’t…it…didn’t happen there,” Jinki explained, squeezing the lead singer’s hand to both reassure him and take strength from him. “I…it…he was giving me a ride home…it was…a few blocks from here…” He stopped, suddenly blinking rapidly as he fought back the tide of memories. He could say this to Dr. Choi, but it was much harder with Jonghyun and Minho.
“In a car?” Minho guessed, clenching his teeth when Jinki nodded slowly. “Well,” he muttered, taking a deep breath through his nose, “That explains…everything.” Jonghyun stood abruptly, growling in angry desperation as he started pacing the room. His sudden movement startled the eldest boy, making him flinch in surprise, his now empty hand curling into the bed spread.
The shorter boy ground his teeth as he paced. He felt like a failure, as a person, as a band mate, and, more importantly, as a friend. A few blocks from here! Sure, Jjong had never really spent a lot of time trying to figure out how the oldest boy got home that night. He just figured Jinki was in another realm full of evil, and he magically teleported into the bathroom when he got free. But to think he was within walking distance of his home when…and how did he get home really? Did the bastard dump him in front of the dorm? Did Jinki walk? Jjong shuddered, trying not to imagine walking after being…AND, more importantly, a car? Call him old fashion, but why would anyone want to have sex in a car? Aren’t most cars cramped and small like? He fought a shiver and forced his thoughts away as he stopped pacing, plopping back next to Jinki. Onew blinked suspiciously at the shorter boy as he turned a fierce, hot gaze on him, and pressed a little closer to Minho.
“Good pace?” the rapper asked dryly, but Jonghyun ignored him, and leaned towards Jinki slowly, trying to catch the slightly skittish older man’s eyes, only to be smacked in the face with Usa-chan. “What are you doing?” Minho asked, his voice a fine line between curiosity and anger. He was holding Usa-chan, as Jinki seemed a bit to shocked to react.
Jonghyun pulled back and sighed dramatically. “God, Minho. I get drunk one time and kiss Key, and you think that’s all I do! I was only going to apologize.”
Jinki bit his lower lip nervously. “So, you didn’t want to kiss me?” he asked slowly, then frowned. “Hey~, why did you kiss Kibummie?” he pouted. “I don’t think I like that you did that.”
Minho stifled a laugh as Jonghyun paled a little bit. The younger singer waved his arms dramatically. “No! No it’s not like that! First, it was a dare! I swear! I would never want to kiss him. He’d probably eat me if I did anything he didn’t like. Also, best friends much? Gross.” He rambled, trying to get Jinki to believe that their drunken game of truth or dare four days ago when they were all depressed and missing Jinki didn’t mean anything. “And second,” he said, sobering up immediately, “I do want to kiss you. So much. Like, I dream about it so bad, but I’m not going to sneak up on you, or anything.”
Jinki smiled and nodded, but suddenly, he ducked his head and begin fidgeting with his fingers. “But…what if I want you…guys to, um, kiss me?” he whispered, blushing red and half hoping the younger boys didn’t hear him.
Jonghyun’s breath caught at the confession, his body tightening at the thought of simply kissing the beautiful, delicate boy in front of him. To do something that intimate with Jinki. Jonhyung leaned away as he tried to get his breathing under control, his over active imagination happy to supply him with thoughts of what those lips would feel like on his own.
Minho rolled his eyes at the smaller singer, and placed a hand under Jinki’s chin, gently coaxing the older to look at him. “Hyung…you know we’ll wait for you. Until you’re comfortable.”
The older boy blushed some more, but nodded as he met Minho’s eyes. “I know,” he whispered sincerely, then turned to look at Jonghyun. “I do, I know that neither of you will ever…would ever…f-f…” he stumbled over the word and paused, taking a deep breath, as if just saying this was taking a lot out of him, “force me into anything. It’s just…I mean, I…I’ve never, um, kissed anyone before…you know. I-I trust you, but… I’m scared.” His voice dropped off near the end and he looked down.
Jonghyun reached out and recaptured the older boy’s hand, squeezing reassuringly. “It’s just a kiss, Hyung. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“My first kiss hurt,” Onew muttered, a bitter reminder of the memories he lived with.
“This one won’t,” the younger singer whispered, as he leaned forward slowly, and cupped the elder boy’s cheek, keeping him steady as the shorter boy gently but firmly pressed his lips against the leader’s and pulled back, licking his lips nervously as he stroked the delicate boy’s silken cheek with his thumb. It was a chaste and childish kiss, but it still made Jjong’s blood run hot and his stomach flutter.
“See?” he said, smiling softly, as Jinki blushed and nodded, ducking his head.
The older boy’s eyes flickered to Minho briefly, then back to his hands. The younger boy was just watching, a patient expression on his face. Was he mad? Did he also want to kiss him? Jinki assumed he did. Weren’t they in some sort of quasi-relationship before he left? Had things changed so much that Minho didn’t like him anymore? He didn’t seem to have a problem with Jonghyun kissing him, though. Were they having problems as a couple? Does Jjong not like Minho anymore? Jinki bit his lip; he didn’t want to come between them as a couple. Maybe-
“Hyung!” Minho said, clapping his hands in front of the older boy’s face, snapping Onew out of his thoughts. “We can hear the gears in your mind turning on overdrive. Are you okay?” He reached up and smoothed his thumb over his bottom lip, gently pulling until Jinki let the abused flesh go. “Did Jonghyun go too far?” It was obvious with his tone that the last part is what the rapper really thought was happening.
Jinki shook his head. “No, I…no, he didn’t,” he said and then bit his lip again. “It’s just…do you w-want to kiss me too, Minho-yah?”
The youngest in the group smiled and shook his head. “I think you’ve had enough kisses for the night,” he ruffled the older boy’s long hair, causing it to stick up all over the place, “and we need to go to bed. Early morning tomorrow, remember?” He stood and looked pointedly at Jonghyun, who sighed over dramatically and leaned close to press a kiss on his elder’s forehead.
“Goodnight, Jinki-hyung.” he whispered, and left with the biggest grin Onew had ever seen him with. Not even the smack Minho gave him dimmed it.
“Oh, and Hyung?” Minho said from the door. “When you’re ready, you can kiss me. Goodnight.”
Jinki blinked at the closed door for a moment, before rolling over and curling up, blushing and burying his face into Usa-chan. Jonghyun kissed me! He could barely wrap his mind around it. He felt like a teenage girl, as he brushed his hands against his lips. It hadn’t felt anything like his first kiss…Jinki shook his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. I didn’t want it, it shouldn’t count. My first kiss with Jonghyun was amazing. My first kiss with Minho will be, too. He nodded determinedly as he stood and stripped to his boxers, making sure the door was locked before climbing into bed. As much as he wanted to go climb into bed with Jonghyun and Minho, it would be better, at least for a little while, if he slept here. This way, if he had a nightmare, he wouldn’t wake the boys who needed their sleep the most.
~*~*~*~
It was about ten minutes before Shinee needed to get up, and if Jinki was right and Minho’s habits hadn’t changed, the boy’s cell phone alarm had gone off three times already. The younger boy lay on his back, bare save for a pair of sweatpants on what used to be Jinki’s bed. His eyes were closed and he didn’t seem too bothered by the fact that Jonghyun had stolen all the covers over the course of the night in what Jinki assumed was an attempt to become a butterfly.
Onew crept closer, noting that Taemin and Key seemed to feel the need to sleep in their own beds, though Taemin was wearing Key’s favorite shirt (so don’t you touch it ever again, Lee Jinki, I know what happened to my last shirt) the older boy figured there was probably a story there, but when he was feeling more leader-ly he’d sort it out. For now, he crept closer to the big bed, trying to be as quiet as he could be as he sat next to the assumedly half-awake rapper. He leaned forward slowly, and watched as Minho tensed, and his eyes fluttered behind the lids, but then he relaxed, and the singer allowed himself to smile, before leaning a little further and brushing his dry lips, chapped with how much he’d bitten them as he planned this, against Minho’s soft ones. Jinki’s heart beat a mile a minute as he pulled back.
“Mmmph,” the sleepy idol groaned quietly, licking his lips. “Jjong, I’m too tired for your teasing.” Next to him, said singer grunted and none too gently shoved an elbow into the rapper’s exposed midsection.
“Shuddap alien, ‘m sleepin’,” the shorter boy’s muffled voice came from the blankets. Jinki secretly wondered what Jjong would look like with butterfly wings. Minho hummed in response and licked his lips again, before suddenly sitting bolt upright, drawing a surprised yelp from Jinki as he fell into the rapper’s empty bed.
The younger boy blinked sleepily in the direction of the noise. “Hyung?” he asked quietly, only to be grunted at more angrily and elbowed again, so he slid into the bed where Jinki sat hiding his face in his hands, out of range. “Did you just…kiss me?”
The older boy nodded, sneaking a peek at Minho through his fingers, then looked down again. “Sorry.”
Minho smiled and took the older boy’s hands, pulling them away from his face. “Don’t be sorry. You just startled me is all, I thought you were Jonghyun.”
“Does he kiss you often…in the mornings?” Jinki asked quietly, looking over at the cocooned form of the lead singer.
“He likes his early morning kisses,” Minho said. “He’s kind of a girl that way.” Jinki giggled a little, but pulled a straight face when Jonghyun rolled over to glare at them.
“I can hear you, you know,” he hissed, reaching a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. Jjong had been staying over the last few days, since Jinki joined them at dance practice, and it was beginning to show. Red, bloodshot eyes and dark under bags that made Onew worry his lip and wait up for him. Minho knew that overworking was only one of the problems, as Jonghyun would stay up hours in their bed, waiting for Jinki to finally climb back into it with them.
“Sorry Jonghyun-ah,” Jinki muttered, crawling across the bed to lie next to him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your transformation.” He giggled a little, but it was met with silence. “You know? Into a butterfly?” More silence. “You were cocooned.” Jonghyun groaned deep in his throat, and Jinki sighed. “Sorry I woke you up, too.” The younger singer nodded finally and wiggled closer, burying his head into Onew’s shoulder and falling asleep almost instantly. Jinki frowned, pressing a hand gently against the younger boy’s cheek, and looking at Minho, who just shrugged in helpless resignation. They had to get up in five minutes.
“Minho-yah,” Jinki said as he carefully wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. “Jonghyun has a fever. Will you call manager and tell him that I said he’s not going to practice today? Taeminnie and Kibummie will help him catch up later.”
“Fever?” Key’s sleepy voice came from the top bunk. His umma senses must have been tingling.
“Just a small one,” Jinki said, trying to reassure the young diva, “Probably from his lack of sleep. We’ll get some medicine in him and he’ll be good as new tomorrow, don’t worry.”
Minho felt something like pride well up in his chest as he watched Jinki smoothly take control of the situation. He moved to kiss the eldest on the forehead, only for the older boy to tug on his hair, and their lips met briefly for a second time.
“I think I like kisses,” Jinki whispered, and Jjong hummed against his neck.
“Welcome back, Leader,” Minho said, and left to do as Jinki had bid.
Key helped Jinki feed Jonghyun, much to the leader’s glee and the singer’s annoyance (I have a fever, I’m not inept!) and give him medicine before he left for the day. Jinki had cleaned up and shifted Jonghyun to his other side, because the younger boy liked to kiss his neck, and Jinki jumped whenever he got too close to his scar.
“’re a good leader, Jinki~hyung,” the drugged boy muttered as he drifted off to sleep, “‘m writing a song for you, y’know?”
Jinki nodded, gently running a hand through the boy’s soft, brown hair. “Yeah?”
Jonghyun hummed in agreement. “Love you,” he said, his lips touching Jinki’s neck as he spoke.
“I love you too, Jjong.”
~*~*~*~*~
One week later and it was hard to believe that Onew had ever even considered suicide. Aside from his nervous stutters, it was hard to believe that Jinki was ever mute. Jonghyun had even caught Jinki singing softly in the shower at one point, and had burst in in his excitement, nearly giving the older boy a heart attack, but Jjong considered that ‘trivial nonsense’. Ever since then, he’d been dragging the singer to his vocal practices, and three days later, Jinki suddenly had a schedule again. It was easily the second happiest day of his life, even if most of his time was spent in a gym, doing the toughest training regimen he’d ever been subjected to, orchestrated by one of the scariest female trainers he’d ever met.
He’d started sleeping in his old bed not long after Jjong’s sick day, but then forced Jonghyun and Minho back into their own beds when it became obvious that the lack of sleeping space was cutting into their quality rest time.
He found out three days earlier that Taemin and Key were in some kind of “its complicated” relationship, where they were ‘together without labels’ as Kibum put it, because Taemin was too young to do anything serious, but they liked to kiss and cuddle. Jinki couldn’t blame them; he liked to kiss and cuddle, too, but he tried his best to be stern with the band umma, and tried to convey in clear, nonviolent terms, just how much pain he’d be in if he ever hurt Taemin.
“Wait, ‘I’ll give you my soul’? Really?” Jinki laughed, as he read the lyrics to the new song, and ran away as Jonghyun chased after him, screaming about how it was his life in those lyrics and “Jinki you’re ruining them!” The dance choreographer was having a fit, but everyone else agreed that they’d be willing to work harder, longer hours to get the new song ready so Jinki could be on the track. It just didn’t feel right without him, and the rest of SHINee had begged and pleaded until they got their way. The dance instructor was trying to drill them on the parts of the old dance they were keeping, but it was disjointed. Half an hour in, Jinki had tripped twice, and freaked out a little when he accidentally bumped into a backup dancer, so he took a break. He sipped his water and flashed a smile at Jonghyun and Minho, who were still working on the dance part, while Key and Taemin offered what they hoped were helpful tips, and left to find a bathroom.
It wasn’t that the building was different, but after being away for so long, everything felt different to Jinki. He wandered the halls, running a hand along the wall, feeling the familiar, odd seams one of the walls had as if a door should have gone there, but had been decided against at the last minute and covered up. It was on his way back from the bathroom, when he heard the voice that made his blood run cold.
“Hello, My Love.”
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Rating: PG-15 to be safe, strong Language
Pairing/Focus: Onew, Jongho, ninja
Summary: In the movies, when a singer lost their voice, all you had to do was break the shell and they got it back, and everyone lived happily ever after, lesson learned. But movies aren't real, and when a voice leaves, sometimes it doesn't want to come back, and some lessons leave marks that even happy endings can't erase. . . .
SO OH MY GOD. you don't even know my life right now. (except everyone who read the apology post kinda does) but for the last 3 weeks I've been writing, and kinda sort of locked up in my homophobic aunts house, so writing this was just like icing on the cake.
a few warnings. 1. this is a monster. a little over 10,000 words. second, i kind of rushed it threw my beta, much to her displeasure.
thank you for everyone who's still reading this. I will have chapter 12 up in less than a month, this time, i (maybe) promise.
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He couldn’t breathe. It was hot, beyond hot. Suffocating in the rancid air, the sweet smell of blood mixed in with the stench of rancid breath all around him. Laughter in his ears; dark, sinister and corrupted. Hands were tight all over his body, touching, defiling, squeezing and pushing. He tried to breathe, tried to tell them to stop, stop touching him, but the hands were on his neck, crushing him. Killing him. His chest ached as he tried to drag air in through his closed throat, his lungs burning with the need for it. He reached his arms out trying to defend himself, to knock the offending, disgusting hands away to let himself breathe, scratching at the skin he felt, pushing hard, but it wasn’t working. He couldn’t breathe. This was how he was going to-
“HYUNG!” Minho’s voice was loud and right next to his ear, and Jinki literally jumped out of his skin, curling his hands over his ears and rolling into a ball to hide from the noise, as he gasped for air like he was starved of it. I need-I can’t- he was aware he was making loud gasping noises, but there was nothing he could do about it, he needed more air, he was going to suffocate and die!
Suddenly strong arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight, making it hard for his chest to expand, to get the air he thought he needed. Jinki struggled and fought against the arms that were trying to kill him, but slowly his breathing began to go back to normal; his air flow being controlled by the tight hold the man behind him had. As Jinki calmed down, he became more aware of his surroundings, of the tearful voice from the man behind him, begging him to calm down. Everything will be alright; he just has to calm down, please, Hyung, deep breaths. So Jinki closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, taking in deep, measured breaths as he sagged against the boy holding him. It had to be Jonghyun. Minho’s arms were longer and not as muscular. He was pressed so tightly to the singer he could feel it when the younger boy inhaled and exhaled, so Jinki tried to match his breathing.
“Are you okay, Hyung?” Jonghyun sounded less like he was choking on tears now, and when the older boy nodded he pulled away, allowing Jinki to roll onto his back to face him. The younger boy’s eyes were red rimmed and a little swollen, and Jinki reached up to wipe away the residual wet from the singer’s cheek, wondering what happened to make him cry.
“You gave us quite the scare, you know,” the slighter boy continued, smoothing a hand through the sleepy leader’s sweat matted hair. “You were having a nightmare. We kept trying to wake you up but nothing was working. You’re quite the fighter.” Jinki frowned, trying to sit up, blinking away sleep as he tried to make sense out of what the younger boy told him.
“What?” he asked quietly. His throat felt raw and a little abused, and he rubbed it absently.
“Yeah, you were screaming,” the younger boy said as he gently took the leader’s hand away from his neck, and then Jonghyun lifted his arms to show Onew the scratches that decorated them. “You fought like a wild cat when Minho and I tried to wake you up, or touch you at all. You even punched him in the nose! You should have heard his squeak!” Jonghyun broke off at the distressed noise the older boy made. “No, you’re right, that’s not funny. Don’t worry or anything, we’re not angry. He’s just cleaning his face.” Jink reached out a hand and gently touched one of the few scratched that seemed to have drawn some blood, his hand shaking. Did he really do this to Jonghyun, to Minho?
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, pulling his hand back and trying to pull away from the younger boy. Jinki tried to resist the younger singer’s warmth; he didn’t deserve it after what he’d done to them, but it was a soothing, reliable warmth, unlike the extreme heat of his dream.
“What were you dreaming about, Sugar Muffin?” the slighter man asked, gently running his hand up and down the length of Onew’s spine. The older boy shuddered and snuggled closer the Jonghyun, burying his head into the younger man’s neck. He didn’t want to remember. He wanted to lie like this forever and pretend the world didn’t exist beyond the bedroom door.
Jjong sighed and let the older man avoid his question, choosing instead to simply enjoy holding the leader as close as he was allowed to, humming some random song to hopefully keep the older boy relaxed. Jinki would tell him when he was ready, but the lead singer hoped that would be before the older boy decided he needed to take the information to an early grave again.
“Am I interrupting?” a deep voice asked from the door, causing Jinki to jerk back, away from Jonghyun, in surprise. Minho chuckled, walking up to the bed, a small ice pack held to his nose.
“I’m so sorry,” Jinki whispered, regret filling his voice. He turned and buried his head under a pillow before Minho could say anything. The youngest boy shot a questioning look at Jonghyun, who just shook his head, then leaned over to lie along the older boy’s back.
“Hyung, I swear to god, Minho and I are not mad at you. Will you please stop hiding? You’re going to make the alien think I did something to you.” Jinki popped his head up slowly, to see if Minho did indeed suspect Jonghyun of doing something devious to him, only to be greeted by Minho’s winning smile, not the least bit dimmed by the slightly rust colored smudge along his chin bone. Frowning, Jinki sat up, licked his thumb, and leaned over to rub at the small smear until it was gone, ignoring the looks he was getting from the younger boys.
“You should wash your face better,” he said.
“Sorry, Umma,” the tallest boy said, trying to sound sheepish but his couldn’t hide the amusement in his tone, as he crawled onto the bed to lay beside the leader. “Will you forgive me?” Jinki grumbled something about obnoxious children and nodded, looking down at his injured hand. Jonghyun laughed and gently coaxed Onew back down onto the bed.
“Now that we’ve all forgiven each other, can we get back to sleep?” Jonghyun said. “We have the day off and I intend to sleep through most of it.” Then he stretched and loosely wrapped his arm around Jinki’s waist.
Minho’s face fell slightly, but he had to nod when the oldest boy took his hand and whispered a soft, “Minho-yah, you too, okay?” He’d really wanted to talk about what happened the night before, but it was still relatively early, and there wouldn’t be any harm in just sleeping for a little while longer, right? Well, unless Jinki had another nightmare, that is.
They woke next with Key yelling at the top of his lungs about aliens and dinosaurs and how come no one woke him up when Jinki didn’t come home, for god’s sake. What if something happened!?
“We should probably go and tell him I’m alright,” Jinki mumbled, but kept his eyes closed as he pressed deeper into Minho’s chest, trying to stay as asleep as possible. The rapper grunted and stuck a foot out to push Jonghyun off the bed. The younger singer hit the floor with a startled yelp, sounding more like a wounded puppy than a dinosaur.
“Go and deal with him,” Minho muttered. “I can’t get up; Hyung’s on me.” If looks could kill, thousands of fan girls would be crying as Jonghyun glared at the tallest boy, and dragged himself up and to the door, grumbling something about how come he always had to deal with Key whenever he had some kind of melt down in the morning? It wasn’t fair. He just wanted to sleep.
“Hey! Stupid Face! Hyung’s in here with us. Stop your goddamn shrieking and let me get back to sleep! Do you have any idea what time it is?” he yelled down the hall at the diva, who had apparently been pacing its length in his distress. The younger male paused in mid step and turned, stalking towards the dino like a man on a mission.
“Did you just call my face stupid?!” the diva hissed, backing Jonghyun into a wall. “My face? I’m the smartest looking person in SHINee next to Jinki-Hyung, and that’s debatable, because it’s hard to tell when he’s face down on the floor!”
The lead singer blinked rapidly, confusion clear in his big eyes. “What?” he asked after a moment, his tired brain trying to figure out what just happened. His plan had been to yell at Kibum, accept apology, and then sleep until tomorrow. Key yelling back at him wasn’t a part of the plan.
“Also, for your information, it’s TWO in the afternoon! Go brush your teeth ’cause your breath reeks. Lunch will be ready soon. And wake up Minho, too!” the younger boy snapped. “Just because the two of you bumped uglies all night long doesn’t mean you get to sleep in. God, do you know how thin these walls are? Ugh!”
Inside the manager’s, room Minho buried his head into Jinki’s shoulder to muffle his laughter as he listened to Jonghyun get railroaded by Key. The older rapper was distressed and Minho understood. The last time they lost Onew, things had ended extremely badly. A small tug on his shirt brought Minho’s attention to Jinki, who was staring at him with big, innocent eyes and worrying his bottom lip.
“Minho-yah,” he whispered, looking away when their eyes met, “I think…Jonghyun-ah called me ‘Sugar Muffin’ this morning.” A slight blush painted the older man’s cheeks, and Minho didn’t know if he wanted to groan at the lead singer’s cheesiness in private settings or kiss the delicate boy he was holding in his arms.
The rapper decided to sigh dramatically. “Yes, it’s a…quirk our beloved puppy has shown of late, that was previously hidden. I will never understand why he thinks we need a cute name, or why either of us would want to be addressed like that.”
Jinki blushed a little darker. “I…kind of like it,” he said and started to say more when a loud whoop made the older man jump and scramble to hide between Minho and the wall.
“Jinki-Hyung thinks it’s cute, Minho! Your argument is now forever invalid,” Jonghyun explained, jumping onto the bed like a sugar high ten-year-old. Minho scowled darkly, but the smaller man just laughed, placing a quick kiss on the rapper’s anger-thinned lips before standing up. “Well, Key only told me to wake Minho’s lazy ass up, but lunch is done, so I guess it’s good that both of you are up.”
Jinki perked up at the mention of food, but hesitated. “Can we…eat in here, just us three?” He shifted his eyes from a random spot on the bed to the confused faces of the other boys, then back to the blankets. “Never mind, I guess it would be troublesome.”
“Hyung?” Minho asked, reaching down to gently grasp the eldest boy’s hand. “Is there something going on between you and Key and Taemin? You mentioned them last night-”
“Come on, the food is getting cold!” Jonghyun interrupted playfully pulling at Jinki until he stood. “I’ll help you get dressed.” Jinki protested, and ultimately got dressed in his wardrobe, after a quiet but persistent assurance that he could do it himself. Key, angry with how late they slept (among other things, as the term ‘bumping uglies’ came up repeatedly) pushed Minho and Jjong back into the manager’s room, ordering them to clean it up before they could eat his food.
“Jonghyun,” Minho addressed as they both made the bed.
What is it, Pineapple?” the singer asked, distractedly trying to figure out if pillows go under the sheet, or over the sheet but under the blanket, or over everything.
Minho froze and stared at him. “…Did you just call me ‘Pineapple’? …How is that even an endearment? It’s a prickly fruit. Jjong, do you think I’m a prickly fruit?”
“I do now…” the older boy muttered, choosing to leave the pillows under the blanket. “Sorry, I won’t call you that again. What do you need?”
The rapper shook his head and walked closer to the slighter boy, “We need to talk about last night.”
Jonghyun tensed, but continued to put the extra blankets they used away. “Why? Nothing really happened. Everyone’s still breathing and all the sleeping pills are gone. Nothing to talk about.”
“We need to tell Dr. Choi,” Minho insisted, trying to corner the singer so they could talk face to face. “She’s his psychologist; she needs to know he tried to-”
“So he can tell her next time he sees her,” the older boy interrupted, gathering up Jinki’s clothes and trying to leave.
Minho grabbed his arm, making him stop. “She needs to know now. She can help him before he tries it again.”
Jjong let out a harsh breath and rounded on the taller boy. “He’s not going to try it again, Minho. He’ll be with one of us so he won’t be able to, anyway.”
The rapper sighed. “Hyung, we’re away from home, and Jinki-Hyung, a lot. He’ll be here, by himself, until he’s ready to face the fans. And the questions. At best, that’s weeks away. That’s weeks of him being here by himself, unsupervised. He’s emotionally unstable; anything could send him into a depression like he was in last night. And more likely than not, we’re not going to be here for him.”
“He’s fine,” Jonghyun hissed, turning to leave. “He’s getting better. He’s fine.”
Minho sighed and sat down heavily on the bed he just made. Jonghyun stubbornly didn’t want to see what was right in front of his face. Jinki could die before the younger singer realized that the man they loved needs more help than they can give him.
~*~*~*~
Minho didn’t understand why he didn’t feel relieved when he got off the phone with Dr. Choi. She said that she’d take care of it, and she was a trust worthy person, so he couldn’t understand why his gut twisted weirdly whenever he thought about her. Maybe it was just because he was uncomfortable speaking about what happened last night?
After dinner, the tall rapper had somehow gotten roped into reading The Little Prince aloud to everyone, as Jinki snuggled against him and Jonghyun dozed lightly in his lap. Every so often, Jinki would reach down and poke the singer on the forehead to wake him up. Taemin had moved closer to them so that they could alternate pokes, sharing secret smiles with each other as Jjong batted at their hands and weakly whined for Minho or Key to make them stop picking on him. It was the closest they’d been to normal since before Jinki had been attacked, so Minho didn’t mind that much that it was clear only Onew was really listening to him, anyway.
He was halfway done with the book when there was a sudden, insistent knocking on the door. Onew pouted heavily when the tallest boy stopped reading to look at where the noise was coming from, but Key was quick to volunteer himself to answer it, and selflessly stated that Minho could continue reading in his absence. A few moments later, however, an extremely perturbed Key walked back into the room, followed by their manager, who was looking more and more frazzled by the day.
“Jinki-yah,” the overworked man said, trying to sound enthused and happy, but failing. “Will you please come with me? Dr. Choi needs to see you right away.” Minho felt his stomach drop as Onew tensed beside him. Jonghyun’s eyes snapped open, glaring at the taller rapper as he sat up and offered to help Jinki get ready. They didn’t get to walk him to the car as the delicate leader was rushed out the door, Manager pushing them back inside and telling them to go to sleep because their day would start early tomorrow.
When the door closed, Jonghyun turned angry eyes on Minho. “I can’t believe you. Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to even look at you right now,” he said, and stalked off into the bedroom, slamming the door shut, only to fling it open, throw Minho’s bed things out, and slam it shut again.
~*~*~
Onew remembered to thank the driver when he got out of the car this time, making his way through the familiar halls of the hospital to Dr. Choi’s office. She was pacing inside her office when he got there. His jacket, he noticed happily, as it was a gift from Jonghyun last winter, was still hung carefully on the coat rack.
“Jinki! Please, come sit,” Dr. Choi said when he walked in, ushering him to the couch. She looked strained, he noticed. The wrinkles around her eyes seemed bigger, like she’d aged tremendously in the short time they’d been apart.
“Dr. Choi…” he started, then stopped, his gaze flickering to his jacket, remembering why he left it here to begin with, then back to the doctor. “Why am I here?”
The woman cleared her throat and looked at him carefully. “You tell me, Jinki.” The idol flinched and looked away, ashamed that she knew what he’d tried to do the night before. “You told me yesterday that you were going to be okay,” she said disappointedly. “I believed you, and I let you go home.” She stood and faced the window of her office, its normally breathtaking view of the Seoul cityscape nothing more than an emotional distraction as she fought not to get overwhelmed.
“I’m not a fool, Jinki. I know why my sister assigned your case to me, and if I had the choice, I wouldn’t want to do this to my actual brother any more than I want to do this to you,” she paused and looked over at him, moving to sit opposite him on the table in front of the couch, and grasped his hand gently. “I am so sorry Jinki, but this is out of my hands now. We weighed the options, and this is the best choice.” She gave his hand an affectionate squeeze and stood again, walking over to her desk to write something. “I’m committing you to this hospital’s mental health ward, Jinki. You’ll be placed under constant surveillance for a minimum of two weeks to ensure that nothing like what happened last night will happen again.”
Onew’s breath caught and he tensed, his brain coming to a screeching halt for the second time in this office in as many days. Committed. But…but…I’m not insane! I don’t, I shouldn’t…I don’t want to be here! Jonghyun! Minho! Dr. Choi moved closer again, reaching out a hand to touch him and he jerked back, angrily.
“I don’t want to,” he said stubbornly, getting up to get his coat. He wouldn’t forget it this time. “I’m not crazy.”
Dr. Choi sighed deeply. “I’m afraid you have to. I’m sorry Jinki, I really am, but starting now, you’ll be staying here where real, trained professionals can monitor and care for you. Your friends can come and visit in a few days.”
Jinki turned to gape at her. She had to be lying. She had to be. He didn’t have to stay here. He wasn’t crazy.
“Minho and Jonghyun look after me,” he said quietly, hugging his coat to his chest. “They are very good at it.”
“I’m sure they are, but they can’t always be there, Jinki,” she paused and tried to look encouraging. “With how well you’re doing, you’ll only need to stay the minimum two weeks. In no time at all, you’ll be back home to them. And look on the bright side, you’ll be safe here, from everything and anything.” She smiled a little, as if she were trying to reassure him. He just blinked at her. It didn’t sink in until after Manager had lent Jinki his phone and a tired and disgruntled sounding Kibum answered the phone.
“Who the hell calls this late at night, really? This better be either God, or Lady Gaga, otherwise I will personal hunt you down and rip your-”
“Kibummie.” Jinki winced at how rough his voice sounded, choked up with the tears he was trying to fight.
“…Hyung? God what…what happened? Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll wake up Jonghyun. Where are you? KIM JONGHYUN, I am NOT your ‘Sugar Bunny’, I don’t even…that’s just gross! Wake your fat ass up right now!”
In spite of it all, Jinki found himself chuckling, “I’m fine, Kibum-ah. I’m just going to be staying at the hospital for a little while.” Jinki could hear Jonghyun over the line yelling about how some people needed to sleep, but that was it. He couldn’t even hear the young diva breathing. “Kibum?”
“You’re…you’re staying there?” The younger boy sounded a little weird over the line, but the leader figured that maybe there was a storm in the area.
“Yeah. Just for a few weeks, nothing bad.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Key it was okay, or himself. “You guys can come and visit me the day after tomorrow if you’re free.” I hope you’re free, he added silently, his mind drifting back to The Little Prince and how it was left unfinished in Minho’s hands.
“Yeah…yeah,” Key’s voice sounded hollow; must be a bad storm. “Let me wake everyone up to say goodnight to you.”
~*~*~*~*~
The hospital wasn’t as bad as Jinki had first imagined, which meant really that there were no raving psychos muttering into the night, no creepy lotion references, or anyone trying to eat him, but sometimes someone started screaming for no reason, or the other patients would try and touch him when they were allowed to mingle, so Jinki just curled himself into a corner with a book or something, or chatted shyly with one of the lady attendants or Dr. Choi when she came to talk with him. Mostly it was just a lot of disinterested orderlies pushing pill and food carts around. A lot of “you look just like that boy from SHINee” ’s, a lot of being watched wherever he went, forming into circles to talk about feelings. A lot of bad food, bad entertainment, and bad sleep. A lot of people he didn’t want close to him…and a lot of Dr. Choi.
After the first day they were allowed to visit, Jinki didn’t see much of SHINee unless he turned the TV on. The world still thought he was at home, recovering from whatever had sent him to the hospital. Complications from a broken leg, or whatever the cover story was. He missed Minho and Jonghyun with a fierce ache in his chest. In the clinical coldness of the hospital he missed their warmth and their comforting touches when he was scared.
Dr. Choi helped. They talked almost every day about everything. Six days before he would be able to go home, Dr. Choi told him a person matching his attacker’s description was found in a car that had exploded upon crashing into a gas station. She asked him how he felt about it, and he told her outright. Was he supposed to be happy someone had died? Sure, he was relieved, monumentally relieved, that that monster…was gone, would never hurt him, or bother Taemin, anymore. But death isn’t something Jinki had wished on him, or could wish on anyone. He’d gotten sullen and quiet all day, morally at odds with his feelings. Dr. Choi had snuck him fried chicken in her next visit, hoping he’d feel better.
The first time Dr. Choi could sit Jinki down after he started to stay in the hospital was right after SHINee left. She felt bad, really, but there was protocol to follow. She should have had Jinki stay the night she broke the news to him, but nothing in his character to date had hinted towards suicidal depression.
He was holding on to his raggedy little bunny when she walked in, staring off into space, curled up tightly on his standard issue hospital bed.
“Jinki-yah?” she asked cautiously, taking a seat next to his bed. “Are you okay?”
He blinked at her, startled out of his thoughts, and smiled weakly. “Yeah. They’re very busy lately. I don’t think I’ll get to see them again before I’m released.”
She nodded, making a note of how resigned he sounded. “They have been very busy lately, yes. I follow them closely now, because of you. You’re all very talented.”
“They,” he corrected quietly, looking down at his bunny again. “I haven’t sang with the since…in a long time.”
Dr. Choi didn’t look sad or startled by this news. She probably expected it, given his past issues with talking, but she did look intrigued. “Do you want to?” she asked, making little notes on her pad. “To sing, that is.”
He inhaled sharply and looked out his window. “May 25th was the best day of my life,” he said after a while. “The only other days that come close to it are days where the five of us are performing. I miss it.” He whispered the last part like it was a secret, glancing at the psychologist briefly before looking away. “But…I don’t really feel…like an idol anymore. For the last few months, I’ve been hiding…and sleeping…and that’s not what idols do…” he trailed off, sighing heavily.
“And what do idols do?” the doctor asked softly, gently trying to get Jinki to continue speaking.
“Everything it takes to bring happiness to their fans,” the singer replied almost instantly. “They sing and dance and perform, even when they’re sick or hurt or exhausted, because when you step on stage, feel the roar of the crowd, it’s all worth it.” The shrink nodded, scribbling away furiously in her notebook. “Taemin still practices his dance moves in the living room after he finishes his homework. Jonghyun does scales in the bathroom every morning, and I want to be a part of that again, but I…I can’t.”
Dr. Choi looked up at him. “But if you could, would you go back to being an idol?”
“In a heartbeat. I loved being part of SHINee.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Jonghyun didn’t talk to Minho for five days unless they were with Jinki at the hospital. Not for interviews or TV shows. It was obvious that they were suddenly distant, but Jonghyun just straight up refused to speak with the taller boy, and because they didn’t see Jinki often, they barely spoke. The only reason their cold war ended was because Minho got down on his knees and begged Jjong to forgive him. He hadn’t thought that calling Dr. Choi would lead to Jinki being taken away from them.
After that, the surrogate leader had clung to his taller boyfriend like he was scared Minho would leave, too. Maybe it had something to do with Key and Taemin disappearing for two hours after practice every night, or because they had no free time to see Jinki after the day they gave him a proper goodbye. Minho let the clinginess and the neediness and the “Sugar Plum”-esk endearments happen, feeling guilty about Jinki and maybe a little needy and clingy himself. The dorm felt more empty and lifeless than ever.
Three days before Jinki was coming home, Taemin and Key sat Minho and Jonghyun down and told them that Taemin had been attending some therapy sessions of his own to help work out his issues with what happened to Jinki. Jonghyun laughed a bit, even as Minho and Key hit him, saying that the next thing they knew, they were all going to be in some kind of therapy. Key gave him a sharp look and continued, saying that most of what’s bothered Taemin was stress and a physical outlet would help.
“But you guys dance, like, all the time,” Jonghyun cut in. “Isn’t that physical exercise?”
“A directed physical outlet, ass hat,” Key retorted, and informed them both that Taemin and himself were taking self-defense lessons. The diva kicks Jonghyun until he asks for a demonstration, but by then it was clear that Key was probably just looking for an excuse to touch Taemin. Minho ended the conversation with a warm congratulations and later he and Jonghyun argued about who blushed redder, Key or Taemin, until it was late into the night and Key yelled at them to shut up or he’d demonstrate his new abilities on them.
~*~*~*~*~
No one else was home when his manager, the nice one who really didn’t mean to scare him that one time, stress affects everyone differently you know, ushered him inside. The first thing Jinki did was take a shower and wash all his clothes, clean or not, because everything from his coat to Usa-chan reeked of sterilized hospital and Jinki didn’t want to smell it anymore. Then he went and rolled around on his big middle bed and got dressed. He was pretty sure he was wearing Key’s underwear, Minho’s pants, Jonghyun’s shirt, and that his socks had Taemin’s face on them, and he felt accomplished. He didn’t think he’s ever missed something this fiercely since he spent his first nights in the trainee dorm longing for his mother.
The dryer went off suddenly, and he extracted himself from the bedroom only to bury himself in his nice warm clothes that smelled like the fabric softener that Kibum was so very particular about and will spend hours searching for if he has to. That’s the fastest I’ve ever gotten into a car, he thought, as he sat on top of the dryer, rumbling with life as Jinki needlessly ran more clothes through the wash so he could create a great big pile of warmth and lay in it. He felt like a child again as the machine thundered under him. It was a bit loud and probably needed to be looked at, but at that moment he didn’t care because he was swinging his legs and giggling like a madman.
He pouted a little when it stopped, but hastily pulled the clothes and towels out, and burrowed into his pile like a raccoon, planning on surprising the other boys when they got home.
~*~*~*~
A piercing shriek woke the dozing idol, followed quickly by a slamming door and more yelling.
“I don’t know if you’re dead or not, but I know hapkido! But I’m only allowed to use it if you attack me first, I’m warning you!” Jinki blinked sleepily at the door, trying to figure out where he was and what was going on. Inhaling deeply, he relaxed a little, realizing he was in the laundry room. He must have fallen asleep waiting. He got up and stretched, his body stiff from the awkward way he was sleeping, then walked over and knocked gently at the door.
“Oh my god!” Jinki smiled a little as the boy on the other side jumped. He didn’t remember Taemin knowing any form of self-defense, but he could be lying. “KEY-HYUNG! There’s a man in our laundry room and he’s trying to get me!”
The older idol groaned quietly. Trust Taemin to always jump to the weirdest conclusions. Then he went to sit on the washing machine. It was probably better to wait there than to try and leave and maybe get hurt.
Taemin, on the other hand, had been jumpy all day. The other boys figured he was just nervous about Onew coming home. His therapist said that he needed to apologize to the older boy for how he’d been acting before he left, saying that Taemin would be surprised how something like apologizing would affect him, but when he started screaming about men in their laundry room, Key had just figured he’d somehow gone off the deep end.
The magnae attached himself to Key’s back, clutching onto his shirt and peering over his shoulder when the older boy came to investigate. He whispered a soft “Hyung, be careful” as Key gripped the door knob and turned it. ”You chose the wrong house!” the dancer yelled over Key’s shoulder.
“Wow, Tae, you’re really brave,” the older boy muttered as he opened the door, “But I swear to god if there isn’t any one in here-” he cut himself off as he turned the light on to see Onew sitting on the washing machine looking generally sad and pouty.
“Hyung?” the diva couldn’t have sounded more surprised if he tried. Why was Jinki in their laundry room? What was he even doing at home? Wasn’t he supposed to be getting out tomorrow? They had a surprise planned and everything. “What…what are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be at the hospital?”
The older boy sighed and hopped off the appliance. “No,” he said. The younger two gapped like fish because this was the first time that Jinki had ever really talked to them. “I got out a few hours ago,” he sighed again, but then smiled, not quite his normal one, but close. And Key found himself smiling along with him. “It’s okay. I had planned on scaring you, but Taemin is just as good.”
Dumbfounded, the diva nodded. “Well come sit in the living room like a normal person. I’ll call Jjong and Minho, tell them your home.” Taemin, however, continued to hide behind the older dancer as the three of them made their way into the living room awkwardly. It was the first time that Jinki had sat in the living room without Usa-chan; he felt almost naked as he picked at the invisible threads on Minho’s pants. In the kitchen, he could hear Key’s voice, rapidly speaking over the phone.
“A few hours, apparently. We got home not too long ago. Just come home as soon as possible. No! Don’t rush them, they’ll mess it up. Listen…listen…LISTEN! I know he wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow, okay? But what do you want me to do? …Okay, yeah. Okay. See you.”
The older boy tried not to make it obvious he was listening in, but with the lack of other noise in the dorm, there wasn’t really anything else to do. Kibum came back in a few moments later, placing a soda Jinki didn’t know he wanted until he looked at it down in front of the older man, and settled a little closer to Taemin that Onew would have deemed necessary in normal social settings. Jinki frowned a bit, wondering if he was causing the young band umma some kind of distress, but pushed those thoughts away. He’d ask Minho or Jonghyun about it later.
“We thought you were coming home tomorrow,” Key explained, disrupting the silence that had settled around them. “We only have practice tomorrow and that’s in the morning, so we were all going to get you.” The older boy nodded, the tightness in his face and chest that had betrayed how he felt about being forgotten relaxed. It was a mistake, nothing more. Then he blinked and cocked his head to the side.
“Practice?” he asked. “For what?”
Taemin and Key traded looks before Key sighed heavily. “That can wait until the others get home. Right now, Taemin has something he needs to say to you.” The magnae hit Key, glaring at him, but the older dancer had a much better ‘bitch-don’t-you-dare’ glare and coupled with the diva’s “I am your mother and you will do as I say” face, Taemin was outclassed and didn’t stand a chance. He cleared his throat and shifted around Key to get closer to the band leader.
“Hyung, I-” he broke off, taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose. “Jinki-Hyung, I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately. With you…and to you. I wasn’t handling…this…as well as I should have in order to help you and I’m…I’m really, really sorry.” Taemin looked down at his lap, breathing deeply as if he were trying not to cry.
Jinki blinked at him, a little stunned by the apology. Sure, Taemin wasn’t exactly being the most adult person in the mess their lives had turned into, but given his age, was it fair to expect anything more from him? The older boy slowly reached out to grasp the dancer’s hand, his whole arm shaking as he hesitantly twined their fingers together. Onew pushed through the heavy feeling in his gut because this was Taemin for goodness sakes, and the magnae wasn’t going to hurt him. The touch made the youngest look up at him sharply.
“Taeminnie,” Jinki said, smiling softly. “It’s okay.”
It was a bit awkward after that, the room plunged into silence after Taemin’s small ‘thank you’. Key had decided to go clean the laundry room, and a very sheepish Onew stayed quiet as Taemin hurried after.
Jinki went and retrieved the book he’d been reading in the hospital; an old, English copy of The Fox and The Hound that Dr. Choi had lent him. He wasn’t very far into it, but he wanted to finish, and keeping his English skills sharp might come in handy later in case…just in case. He was muscling his way through chapter four when the last two SHINee members came home. Jonghyun disappeared into the kitchen before Jinki could get a good look at him, but Minho headed straight for him, only stopping about a foot away from the older boy.
“I’m going to hug you,” the rapper announced, and barely waited long enough for the older boy to stand up before Jinki was enveloped in the warmth that was Minho. Onew reached around and clutched the taller boy’s shirt, pulling him closer as the singer breathed deeply, trying to commit the boy’s scent to memory. However, something was different, and Jinki pulled away with a sharp sniff, frowning as he tried to figure out what Minho smelt like that was different than normal.
He didn’t really get time to before a loud “I want a hug too!” and a solid warmth attached itself to his back. Onew smiled, relaxing back into Jonghyun’s embrace, and really, finally, felt like he was home.
Then suddenly it clicked, and he turned around so fast he startled the two boys holding him. “Chicken!” he struggled out of the boys’ grasp and headed straight for the kitchen, only to be stopped by Key, who had somehow managed to get in the door way when he wasn’t looking.
“I told you to put it in the trunk!” the umma scolded, holding his hands out to ward Onew away from his favorite dish. “Now he knows! What kind of a surprise is this?”
The older man turned to Minho and Jonghyun and blinked owlishly, “Surprise?”
Jonghyun sighed overdramatically. “Yes. We were supposed to pick you up tomorrow, so he had plans for tomorrow. Key called us so we did the best we could and picked you up a…welcome home chicken, I guess?”
Jinki slowly nodded, then turned back to Key. “I’m home now, so can I have my chicken now, please?”
The diva sighed and stepped out of the way. “I guess,” he bemoaned, seeing the perfect meal he’d had planned in his mind’s eye vanish in a puff of smoke. Onew wasted no time rushing past the younger boy and into the kitchen, grabbing five plates and starting to serve the food.
“You guys have no idea how bad hospital food is,” he said randomly, as he piled the deliciously fried fowl onto separate plates, his somehow holding more than the others. “Everything was bland, runny, or chalky.” Jonghyun and Minho shared smiles as they watched the older boy. It had only been two weeks (only the longest two weeks of their lives), but Onew was initiating conversations by himself. Maybe, as much as they all hated it, Jinki’s time in the hospital really was for the best. Minho raised an eyebrow at the slighter boy, as if to say just that, and Jonghyun just slapped his chest and walked past him, not ready to admit he was wrong.
During dinner it became clear that while the older boy had certainly become more comfortable with his voice, he was timid about when he used it, waiting for everyone else to finish talking before he said anything.
“So, Kibum,” Jinki started, trying not to shift nervously when everyone looked at him. “What were you going to tell me earlier? About what you’re practicing?” The table fell silent, and Key kicked Jonghyun under the table, trying to get him to talk. The older boy glared, but sighed and put his utensils down.
“Jinki-yah…Management has decided that we need to start thinking about our next debut. They said that, if you’re not ready, we could either continue as four, or they have some promising trainees, but it’s going to happen. You can still live with us, if you want,” he offered sounding like that was just a ‘look on the bright side’ proposal. “Management was hoping that you’d sing again soon, that’s why they haven’t terminated your contract yet.” Onew closed his eyes as the heartbreaking news washed over him, but he couldn’t say that he was surprised by it. This was something Dr. Choi had talked with him about.
“You’re starting the new song tomorrow?” he asked carefully, trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Dance practice starts tomorrow,” Key said softly. He felt bad, really bad, about the whole situation, but he had agreed; they all had. They couldn’t keep acting like Jinki was going to bounce back, and putting their lives on hold to wait for when that might happen. Still, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“Oh,” the leader’s tone was light, but the breath he took after that shook a little, then he sighed. “Can…can I come?” Taemin nearly choked on his chicken, and Key hurriedly slapped him on the back, as Jonghyun and Minho just stared at the eldest boy, who flushed and started to fidget. “I mean, if that’s okay.”
The boys traded hesitant looks and were silent for a while. Jinki blinked rapidly at the sudden quiet and fought to keep himself in check. He uttered a small “Okay” and excused himself, heading to their shared bedroom, before hesitating, slowly reaching a hand out to the door, before snatching it back and hurrying into the manager’s room.
“Nicely done,” Key commented dryly, kicking at Jonghyun and Minho under the table again, not really caring which one he hit. “The day he thinks we forgot about him, the day he comes home from a mental hospital, you geniuses insinuate we don’t want him at practice. Nice, way to build up the trust again.”
The singer glared at Kibum. “You know, you guys were part of the conversation, too. You could have said something at any time, you know!” Minho sighed and stood up, dragging the older boy away by the wrist. Key smirked as if he’d won something, but Jonghyun sneered and yelled. “You’re doing the dishes you…you…just do them!” Minho rolled his eyes, adjusted so that he was holding Jonghyun’s hand, and were about to walk into the manager’s room, if the quiet muttering from inside didn’t make them pause.
“I’m sure there’s a good reason they don’t want me to go, Usa-chan. I know they don’t hate me. I mean, if I were in their shoes, I wouldn’t want an out of shape idol stepping in on my dance practice,” Jinki took in an unsteady breath, and exhaled out slowly. “I just wanted to go and be with them. I miss them so much…but… it’s not the end of the world… it’s just the end of my career as SHINee’s leader…” His voice got tight and he broke off with a hiccup. Jonghyun shot a brief, angry glance with Minho, who was rapidly shaking his head no, but his older boyfriend never let a chance to let his emotions get the best of him slip away, and stormed into the room, startling Jinki, who had been sitting with his legs drawn up to his chest on the bed, Usa-chan at eye level with him.
“…Jonghyun?” the elder asked softly, then hastily wiped his face, as if he could rub the red wetness out of his eyes away. “Is something wrong?” The anger that had fueled his entrance into the room disappeared the instant Jonghyun’s eyes met his leader’s, and Onew looked away.
“Hyung,” the singer muttered, oddly at a loss for words as he watched the older boy compose himself. The slighter boy felt Minho approach behind him and ran a soothing hand down his back, as if to offer comfort to him as he tried to comfort their leader. The singer leaned back a little, into the touch, sighing as he relaxed into the silent strength that was Minho. “Hyung, are you okay?”
The older boy smiled up at them. “I’m as good as can be expected,” he said brightly, though his words sounded forced and practiced.
Minho sighed and moved to sit down next to Onew. “Hyung, we don’t… not want you to come with us, it’s just…the practice studio…” he cut himself off and looked away.
Jonghyun swallowed hard and sat on the empty side of the bed, taking Jinki’s hand carefully. “That night, when…we forgot you. It was at the practice studio, wasn’t it?” The older boy blinked at the boys next to him, confused, but then realization dawned on him, and he buried his face in Usa-chan, blinking back even more tears because they didn’t not want him there, they were just concerned for him.
“God, I cry so much lately,” he muttered. “The only person I know who cries more is you, Jonghyun.” He laughed a little, looking up the Jjong and Minho, who were just frowning at him in confusion. “I wasn’t…it…didn’t happen there,” Jinki explained, squeezing the lead singer’s hand to both reassure him and take strength from him. “I…it…he was giving me a ride home…it was…a few blocks from here…” He stopped, suddenly blinking rapidly as he fought back the tide of memories. He could say this to Dr. Choi, but it was much harder with Jonghyun and Minho.
“In a car?” Minho guessed, clenching his teeth when Jinki nodded slowly. “Well,” he muttered, taking a deep breath through his nose, “That explains…everything.” Jonghyun stood abruptly, growling in angry desperation as he started pacing the room. His sudden movement startled the eldest boy, making him flinch in surprise, his now empty hand curling into the bed spread.
The shorter boy ground his teeth as he paced. He felt like a failure, as a person, as a band mate, and, more importantly, as a friend. A few blocks from here! Sure, Jjong had never really spent a lot of time trying to figure out how the oldest boy got home that night. He just figured Jinki was in another realm full of evil, and he magically teleported into the bathroom when he got free. But to think he was within walking distance of his home when…and how did he get home really? Did the bastard dump him in front of the dorm? Did Jinki walk? Jjong shuddered, trying not to imagine walking after being…AND, more importantly, a car? Call him old fashion, but why would anyone want to have sex in a car? Aren’t most cars cramped and small like? He fought a shiver and forced his thoughts away as he stopped pacing, plopping back next to Jinki. Onew blinked suspiciously at the shorter boy as he turned a fierce, hot gaze on him, and pressed a little closer to Minho.
“Good pace?” the rapper asked dryly, but Jonghyun ignored him, and leaned towards Jinki slowly, trying to catch the slightly skittish older man’s eyes, only to be smacked in the face with Usa-chan. “What are you doing?” Minho asked, his voice a fine line between curiosity and anger. He was holding Usa-chan, as Jinki seemed a bit to shocked to react.
Jonghyun pulled back and sighed dramatically. “God, Minho. I get drunk one time and kiss Key, and you think that’s all I do! I was only going to apologize.”
Jinki bit his lower lip nervously. “So, you didn’t want to kiss me?” he asked slowly, then frowned. “Hey~, why did you kiss Kibummie?” he pouted. “I don’t think I like that you did that.”
Minho stifled a laugh as Jonghyun paled a little bit. The younger singer waved his arms dramatically. “No! No it’s not like that! First, it was a dare! I swear! I would never want to kiss him. He’d probably eat me if I did anything he didn’t like. Also, best friends much? Gross.” He rambled, trying to get Jinki to believe that their drunken game of truth or dare four days ago when they were all depressed and missing Jinki didn’t mean anything. “And second,” he said, sobering up immediately, “I do want to kiss you. So much. Like, I dream about it so bad, but I’m not going to sneak up on you, or anything.”
Jinki smiled and nodded, but suddenly, he ducked his head and begin fidgeting with his fingers. “But…what if I want you…guys to, um, kiss me?” he whispered, blushing red and half hoping the younger boys didn’t hear him.
Jonghyun’s breath caught at the confession, his body tightening at the thought of simply kissing the beautiful, delicate boy in front of him. To do something that intimate with Jinki. Jonhyung leaned away as he tried to get his breathing under control, his over active imagination happy to supply him with thoughts of what those lips would feel like on his own.
Minho rolled his eyes at the smaller singer, and placed a hand under Jinki’s chin, gently coaxing the older to look at him. “Hyung…you know we’ll wait for you. Until you’re comfortable.”
The older boy blushed some more, but nodded as he met Minho’s eyes. “I know,” he whispered sincerely, then turned to look at Jonghyun. “I do, I know that neither of you will ever…would ever…f-f…” he stumbled over the word and paused, taking a deep breath, as if just saying this was taking a lot out of him, “force me into anything. It’s just…I mean, I…I’ve never, um, kissed anyone before…you know. I-I trust you, but… I’m scared.” His voice dropped off near the end and he looked down.
Jonghyun reached out and recaptured the older boy’s hand, squeezing reassuringly. “It’s just a kiss, Hyung. There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“My first kiss hurt,” Onew muttered, a bitter reminder of the memories he lived with.
“This one won’t,” the younger singer whispered, as he leaned forward slowly, and cupped the elder boy’s cheek, keeping him steady as the shorter boy gently but firmly pressed his lips against the leader’s and pulled back, licking his lips nervously as he stroked the delicate boy’s silken cheek with his thumb. It was a chaste and childish kiss, but it still made Jjong’s blood run hot and his stomach flutter.
“See?” he said, smiling softly, as Jinki blushed and nodded, ducking his head.
The older boy’s eyes flickered to Minho briefly, then back to his hands. The younger boy was just watching, a patient expression on his face. Was he mad? Did he also want to kiss him? Jinki assumed he did. Weren’t they in some sort of quasi-relationship before he left? Had things changed so much that Minho didn’t like him anymore? He didn’t seem to have a problem with Jonghyun kissing him, though. Were they having problems as a couple? Does Jjong not like Minho anymore? Jinki bit his lip; he didn’t want to come between them as a couple. Maybe-
“Hyung!” Minho said, clapping his hands in front of the older boy’s face, snapping Onew out of his thoughts. “We can hear the gears in your mind turning on overdrive. Are you okay?” He reached up and smoothed his thumb over his bottom lip, gently pulling until Jinki let the abused flesh go. “Did Jonghyun go too far?” It was obvious with his tone that the last part is what the rapper really thought was happening.
Jinki shook his head. “No, I…no, he didn’t,” he said and then bit his lip again. “It’s just…do you w-want to kiss me too, Minho-yah?”
The youngest in the group smiled and shook his head. “I think you’ve had enough kisses for the night,” he ruffled the older boy’s long hair, causing it to stick up all over the place, “and we need to go to bed. Early morning tomorrow, remember?” He stood and looked pointedly at Jonghyun, who sighed over dramatically and leaned close to press a kiss on his elder’s forehead.
“Goodnight, Jinki-hyung.” he whispered, and left with the biggest grin Onew had ever seen him with. Not even the smack Minho gave him dimmed it.
“Oh, and Hyung?” Minho said from the door. “When you’re ready, you can kiss me. Goodnight.”
Jinki blinked at the closed door for a moment, before rolling over and curling up, blushing and burying his face into Usa-chan. Jonghyun kissed me! He could barely wrap his mind around it. He felt like a teenage girl, as he brushed his hands against his lips. It hadn’t felt anything like his first kiss…Jinki shook his head, ridding himself of those thoughts. I didn’t want it, it shouldn’t count. My first kiss with Jonghyun was amazing. My first kiss with Minho will be, too. He nodded determinedly as he stood and stripped to his boxers, making sure the door was locked before climbing into bed. As much as he wanted to go climb into bed with Jonghyun and Minho, it would be better, at least for a little while, if he slept here. This way, if he had a nightmare, he wouldn’t wake the boys who needed their sleep the most.
~*~*~*~
It was about ten minutes before Shinee needed to get up, and if Jinki was right and Minho’s habits hadn’t changed, the boy’s cell phone alarm had gone off three times already. The younger boy lay on his back, bare save for a pair of sweatpants on what used to be Jinki’s bed. His eyes were closed and he didn’t seem too bothered by the fact that Jonghyun had stolen all the covers over the course of the night in what Jinki assumed was an attempt to become a butterfly.
Onew crept closer, noting that Taemin and Key seemed to feel the need to sleep in their own beds, though Taemin was wearing Key’s favorite shirt (so don’t you touch it ever again, Lee Jinki, I know what happened to my last shirt) the older boy figured there was probably a story there, but when he was feeling more leader-ly he’d sort it out. For now, he crept closer to the big bed, trying to be as quiet as he could be as he sat next to the assumedly half-awake rapper. He leaned forward slowly, and watched as Minho tensed, and his eyes fluttered behind the lids, but then he relaxed, and the singer allowed himself to smile, before leaning a little further and brushing his dry lips, chapped with how much he’d bitten them as he planned this, against Minho’s soft ones. Jinki’s heart beat a mile a minute as he pulled back.
“Mmmph,” the sleepy idol groaned quietly, licking his lips. “Jjong, I’m too tired for your teasing.” Next to him, said singer grunted and none too gently shoved an elbow into the rapper’s exposed midsection.
“Shuddap alien, ‘m sleepin’,” the shorter boy’s muffled voice came from the blankets. Jinki secretly wondered what Jjong would look like with butterfly wings. Minho hummed in response and licked his lips again, before suddenly sitting bolt upright, drawing a surprised yelp from Jinki as he fell into the rapper’s empty bed.
The younger boy blinked sleepily in the direction of the noise. “Hyung?” he asked quietly, only to be grunted at more angrily and elbowed again, so he slid into the bed where Jinki sat hiding his face in his hands, out of range. “Did you just…kiss me?”
The older boy nodded, sneaking a peek at Minho through his fingers, then looked down again. “Sorry.”
Minho smiled and took the older boy’s hands, pulling them away from his face. “Don’t be sorry. You just startled me is all, I thought you were Jonghyun.”
“Does he kiss you often…in the mornings?” Jinki asked quietly, looking over at the cocooned form of the lead singer.
“He likes his early morning kisses,” Minho said. “He’s kind of a girl that way.” Jinki giggled a little, but pulled a straight face when Jonghyun rolled over to glare at them.
“I can hear you, you know,” he hissed, reaching a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. Jjong had been staying over the last few days, since Jinki joined them at dance practice, and it was beginning to show. Red, bloodshot eyes and dark under bags that made Onew worry his lip and wait up for him. Minho knew that overworking was only one of the problems, as Jonghyun would stay up hours in their bed, waiting for Jinki to finally climb back into it with them.
“Sorry Jonghyun-ah,” Jinki muttered, crawling across the bed to lie next to him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your transformation.” He giggled a little, but it was met with silence. “You know? Into a butterfly?” More silence. “You were cocooned.” Jonghyun groaned deep in his throat, and Jinki sighed. “Sorry I woke you up, too.” The younger singer nodded finally and wiggled closer, burying his head into Onew’s shoulder and falling asleep almost instantly. Jinki frowned, pressing a hand gently against the younger boy’s cheek, and looking at Minho, who just shrugged in helpless resignation. They had to get up in five minutes.
“Minho-yah,” Jinki said as he carefully wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. “Jonghyun has a fever. Will you call manager and tell him that I said he’s not going to practice today? Taeminnie and Kibummie will help him catch up later.”
“Fever?” Key’s sleepy voice came from the top bunk. His umma senses must have been tingling.
“Just a small one,” Jinki said, trying to reassure the young diva, “Probably from his lack of sleep. We’ll get some medicine in him and he’ll be good as new tomorrow, don’t worry.”
Minho felt something like pride well up in his chest as he watched Jinki smoothly take control of the situation. He moved to kiss the eldest on the forehead, only for the older boy to tug on his hair, and their lips met briefly for a second time.
“I think I like kisses,” Jinki whispered, and Jjong hummed against his neck.
“Welcome back, Leader,” Minho said, and left to do as Jinki had bid.
Key helped Jinki feed Jonghyun, much to the leader’s glee and the singer’s annoyance (I have a fever, I’m not inept!) and give him medicine before he left for the day. Jinki had cleaned up and shifted Jonghyun to his other side, because the younger boy liked to kiss his neck, and Jinki jumped whenever he got too close to his scar.
“’re a good leader, Jinki~hyung,” the drugged boy muttered as he drifted off to sleep, “‘m writing a song for you, y’know?”
Jinki nodded, gently running a hand through the boy’s soft, brown hair. “Yeah?”
Jonghyun hummed in agreement. “Love you,” he said, his lips touching Jinki’s neck as he spoke.
“I love you too, Jjong.”
~*~*~*~*~
One week later and it was hard to believe that Onew had ever even considered suicide. Aside from his nervous stutters, it was hard to believe that Jinki was ever mute. Jonghyun had even caught Jinki singing softly in the shower at one point, and had burst in in his excitement, nearly giving the older boy a heart attack, but Jjong considered that ‘trivial nonsense’. Ever since then, he’d been dragging the singer to his vocal practices, and three days later, Jinki suddenly had a schedule again. It was easily the second happiest day of his life, even if most of his time was spent in a gym, doing the toughest training regimen he’d ever been subjected to, orchestrated by one of the scariest female trainers he’d ever met.
He’d started sleeping in his old bed not long after Jjong’s sick day, but then forced Jonghyun and Minho back into their own beds when it became obvious that the lack of sleeping space was cutting into their quality rest time.
He found out three days earlier that Taemin and Key were in some kind of “its complicated” relationship, where they were ‘together without labels’ as Kibum put it, because Taemin was too young to do anything serious, but they liked to kiss and cuddle. Jinki couldn’t blame them; he liked to kiss and cuddle, too, but he tried his best to be stern with the band umma, and tried to convey in clear, nonviolent terms, just how much pain he’d be in if he ever hurt Taemin.
“Wait, ‘I’ll give you my soul’? Really?” Jinki laughed, as he read the lyrics to the new song, and ran away as Jonghyun chased after him, screaming about how it was his life in those lyrics and “Jinki you’re ruining them!” The dance choreographer was having a fit, but everyone else agreed that they’d be willing to work harder, longer hours to get the new song ready so Jinki could be on the track. It just didn’t feel right without him, and the rest of SHINee had begged and pleaded until they got their way. The dance instructor was trying to drill them on the parts of the old dance they were keeping, but it was disjointed. Half an hour in, Jinki had tripped twice, and freaked out a little when he accidentally bumped into a backup dancer, so he took a break. He sipped his water and flashed a smile at Jonghyun and Minho, who were still working on the dance part, while Key and Taemin offered what they hoped were helpful tips, and left to find a bathroom.
It wasn’t that the building was different, but after being away for so long, everything felt different to Jinki. He wandered the halls, running a hand along the wall, feeling the familiar, odd seams one of the walls had as if a door should have gone there, but had been decided against at the last minute and covered up. It was on his way back from the bathroom, when he heard the voice that made his blood run cold.
“Hello, My Love.”
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