Baby my heart beats for you (if it could) (3/?)

[clubotaku]

Title: Baby my heart beats for you (if it could) (3/5)
Characters: SHINee, Jaejoong, Nickhun if you squint
Previous Chapters: (1)   http://clubotaku.livejournal.com/12509.html
Rating: PG
Genre: Humour, Horror
Pairing: slight OnewxKey
Summary: AU. Jinki is all alone in a zombie infested world and today is a very bad day for Key

1.       Morning comes for Jinki in the form of very cold, very smelly, water soaking his entire face. As he comes to life, spluttering and flailing, he hears the other boy-Kibum-as he opens the blinds.

“Get up; we’re going to get transport.”

Brushing his wet bangs out of his face and eyes (they really stung, Jinki sincerely hoped it wasn’t an eyelash stuck in there) he blinks blearily at Kibum, he who is currently rolling up every single blind at super-speed. Jinki wails and covers his eyes, begging for more sleep and curling up into a defensive ball in order to hide from the sleep-depriving sunlight before he realizes…There’s hardly any sun. In fact, there’s so little sun it almost looks like Kibum isn’t glaring at him. Almost.

“But….But…Zombies come out in the dark,” whines Jinki.

Kibum sneers.

“It’s sunrise. Now get up.”

He flips back his hair and stalks over to the bathroom, before throwing Jinki a towel.

“Clean up, we leave in 15 minutes. I don’t want to smell anything on you, not even your natural odor,” he looks at Jinki, fixes him with dark eyes, “Because if I can smell it, they certainly can.”

Jinki nods, all thoughts of asserting his position as hyung pushed away by the thought of being chewed to the bone by scientific abominations. Einstein must be spinning in his grave, he thinks, What would Darwin think?! Kibum frowns, noticing Jinki returning to his confused, little mind. He snaps his fingers in front of the older boy’s face, feeling that familiar feel of satisfaction when the other jumps. He hasn’t felt this way since he told Professor Sooman that Professor Jin Young had a crush on him. Sooman had spent the better part of the year avoiding Jin Young like the plague…Until Dean Park Myung Soo forced them to be hand-cuffed and locked in a room for two weeks (one of his more extreme methods). Hah, serves him right for telling Kibum his hair was unacceptable. Senior GLEE member Kangin didn’t even have any hair! Jinki is halfway to the bathroom door when Kibum looks over his shoulder and adds as an afterthought,

“They smell fear too. So man up because right now, your fear smells like urine to me.”

His adam’s apple bobs nervously and Jinki somehow manages to get his legs to stop shaking and move towards the bathroom where-and here he screams-he finally feels and notices the stain on the inside of his pants.

“You may use three spritzes of my CK cologne! Use any more and I’ll gut you!” calls Kibum cheerily from outside.

Jinki kind of, just maybe, wants to cry.

2.

They find two bicycles outside a shop lot and Kibum leads the way along the roads. Jinki shivers at how quiet everything is, how deserted the streets are. The trees rustle listlessly as dust clouds gather and form on road-sides, blowing against his sneakers. He stares at the windows of the buildings as they cycle past, wonders who once worked there, if anyone was in there now. Kibum was silent for most of the ride, apart from when he was directing Jinki or laughing at his poor bicycle skills. It wasn’t his fault his parents wouldn’t remove the training wheels from his bike!

An hour later, Jinki is sweating buckets and feeling dehydrated. He calculates that the percentage of salt in his body has depleted since the morning due to the heat, humidity and intense exercise. Oh, and the fact he was scared shitless of being tackled to the ground by maggot infested zombies also added to the sweat count. Kibum however, was riding along as if this was normal to him, as if being alone in a city now inhabited by man-eating zombies was didn’t intimidate him. His red streaks shone in the tropical sun, eyes masked by the (rather feminine in Jinki’s opinion, but he wasn’t about to say that in case Kibum stabbed him down there) wide-framed designer sunglasses and knife strapped to his belt. Jinki’s eyes wandered across his body, taking in the form-fitting white tank top and leather jacket, the tight leather pants (how could he ride a bicycle in those?) and the sneakers. Jinki’s sneakers were the regulation white school sneakers but Kibum? Kibum’s were bright pink and the back was covered in some shiny pink material that reflected sunlight into Jinki’s eyes.

They reach a rather garish shopping centre, a lion-headed Sphinx and fake pyramid rising before them out of the silence.

“The hell?” says Kibum, one eyebrow quirking.

“The Sphinx does not have a lion’s head!” cries Jinki, unable to contain himself any longer in the face of historical inaccuracy. He gets a dark thought then, zombie pharaohs emerging from this pyramid to eat and get revenge on the architects who dared build it. He shudders.

“Ok then,” says Kibum, looking wary, “Let’s see if we can find anything.”

“Great,” gasps Jinki, “I think my sphincter muscles need a reprieve and I need some sodium in my body.”

“You know,” starts Kibum, “I think I would’ve bullied you in school.”

The inside of the mall is (thankfully) not as garish as the outside and Egyptian motifs are at a minimum.

“Ice-skating!” shouts Jinki, all thoughts of the toilet gone as he sprints towards the escalators which lead down to the rink.

“We’re getting supplies!” shouts Kibum after the older boy, but he can’t resist the smooth, icy surface and follows soon after.

The escalators are still working (Kibum supposes the zombies hadn’t trashed the control room when they cleared this place out) and Jinki hums in delight as he tests the ice-still solid. They locate the locker room, Kibum entering first in case of any surprise attacks, finding it empty. Skates are lying, discarded all over the room, locker doors open to reveal a few forgotten items. Kibum finds his size and shoves his bag into an open locker, before walking towards the toilet. Jinki watches as some food falls out of his pack and scrambles to catch the falling items in case Kibum hears them fall and blames it on him.  He wouldn’t put it past him; I’m supposed to be the hyung here his mind cries. As soon as Jinki pushes the food back in, the pack lurches and falls forward. Jinki almost has an aneurysm trying to catch everything and put it back. By the time Kibum emerges, skates on and hair pinned back, Jinki has tied his skates and is waiting by the entrance. Kibum brushes past, regal as he glides on the ice. Jinki takes a step forward and topples into the barrier.

“You tied your skates together.”

Jinki looks down and groans, he has indeed tied his skates together. Before retying he takes a moment to appreciate the almost perfect symmetry of the bow he has created. Reaching the ice he sees Kibum gliding around without a care in the world, spinning in the air with his arms spread. The younger boy looks more relaxed than ever before and although he’s not beaming the way Jinki is, there’s still a small smile on his face that makes Jinki’s heart beat a little harder. Before they know it they’re racing around the rink-skating being one of Jinki’s strengths-and challenging each other to do stunts. Jinki flips himself through the air, landing with ease and Kibum smirks, pulling one leg to curve behind his head and jinkies, thinks Jinki, admiring his flexibility.

“Try catching me!” calls Kibum, skating to the opposite end of the rink. Jinki takes this as a sign they’re playing catch and is delighted, he hasn’t played catch since 2nd grade where that senior Wooyoung pulled his pants down in front of the girls. Racing towards the other, cold air chilling his face and hands, he realizes just what Kibum meant by catch when the other boy races back towards him and jumps.

“Jeepers!” cries Jinki and immediately back-pedals. Kibum soars through the air, smile turning into a scowl as he glares at Jinki, threat evident in his eyes. He lands with a loud crash on Jinki, who manages to wrap his arms around Kibum before the force knocks him down, winded.

“I said catch me you retard, catch, Not ‘let’s play tag like we’re in pre-school!’”

Kibum is warm and Jinki snuggles closer, ignoring Kibum’s rant. Kibum is in the middle of moaning about how the ice has cracked and oh God, he needs to cut down his calorie intake now, when Jinki nuzzles his neck. Kibum freezes and peers down slowly at the other, whose eyes are closed as he breathes on Kibum.

“Hey, hey, are you some kind of pervert,” mutters Kibum, trying to push himself off but Jinki mumbles something incoherent and pulls him back down.

“You’re so warm Kibum…” And Kibum finds to his disgust, he doesn’t quite mind.

Jinki opens his eyes and smiles at Kibum, innocent and relaxed.

“We’re friends right Kibum? You won’t leave me here will you?” He says it with such hope and Kibum can’t find the right words to reply because, he just doesn’t know. Jinki seems not to notice the worry lines forming on Kibum’s face, nor the way he bites his lip.

“I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours,” he whispers, staring straight into his eyes and Kibum wants to scream, run away from him and his stupid, clumsy self and lame jokes. Jinki sighs contentedly and runs a hand curiously through Kibum’s hair, following the streaks from root to end. They stay like that, silent until a familiar smell reaches Kibum and he jolts backwards, off Jinki who blinks as if coming out of a daze.

“We need to leave,” says Kibum, pulling him up, “They’re here.”

They make it to the locker room, tearing off the skates and grabbing their things (plus a few others) when Jinki hears a groan from outside. His knees start shaking and he looks at Kibum who inhales deeply before rushing outside with a battle cry. Jinki emerges after him to see an advancing crowd of undead shuffling towards them. One has reached Kibum and he chokes on spit as the other decapitates it with his skates. The head rolls to a stop before Jinki, one good eye rolling as it salivates and he kicks it away out of reflex. The head spins through the air in a perfect parabola and knocks down one zombie into another, then another and then another. Yay, says Jinki’s brain, I am a champion!

“They’re coming from the car-park, get to the escalator!” screams Kibum, ruining his moment. Kibum has tied his skates together and is swinging them in one deadly arc of icy death at the zombies, who seem to understand danger and back off, just a little. Something in their rotting brains sparks and they begin to converge once more, growing in numbers as they hobble and moan at the pair.

“Stay close to me,” commands Kibum, pulling out his knife. Jinki nods, petrified and pulls out his tofu plushie, stares, stuffs it back in and pulls out a pen-knife. They move as fast as they can towards the escalator but a row of zombies blocks them off and Kibum is slicing and dicing as fast as he can. Jinki the best he can do in this situation, which is scaring them off whilst trying not to cut himself. One grabs his leg and pulls, causing him to fall. Screaming, he stabs wildly at the arm, tearing grey flesh until it lets go. Jumping back up, horror sinks in as Kibum grows further and further away from him, the crowd getting between them. There’s hardly any room to move and over the death-moans he can hear Kibum swearing.

Kibum finds himself surrounded the minute Jinki falls, and starts spinning, skates outstretched. Torso’s dislodge and thud to the ground, buying time momentarily for him to run closer, but the zombies crawl over the fallen, reaching out for him.

“Fuck, I’m not dying like this,” growls Kibum, reaching into his pack. His skates are covered in so much zombie flesh they’ve lost their edge and he throws them away. His hand reaches in, feels cold metal and a familiar engraving, pulls the gun out. Jinki is yelling somewhere way over, but Kibum can’t see him anymore apart from the top of his head. Inhaling, he takes the gun out and aims it at Jinki.

An explosion rocks the area and zombies explode on the opposite side of the rink.

No, it can’t be, thinks Kibum. Humans start to appear on the next floor, throwing make-shift weapons and shooting at the zombies. The bullets don’t do much harm-crap, they’re BB guns- and paint explodes on other zombies. A rope unfurls before Kibum and he looks up to see a puppy-eyed boy waving at him to climb.

“Hurry, we can’t hold them off much longer!” he yells in English.

Kibum grabs the rope and climbs.

Jinki watches as the zombies fly, watches as Kibum reaches the top and is pulled to safety. When the other boy touches concrete, he turns back to look for Jinki, eyes searching the place he last saw him. It makes Jinki happy to know that Kibum does care, but his vision is blocked as a ghastly shell of a face stares into his own. Saliva drips from its mouth onto Jinki’s shirt and he gulps, unable to move. Suddenly, the zombie is thrown off him and the hands holding his limbs are gone. A freakishly tall person with a small head and large eyes replaces them, looking solemn.

“Alien!” screams Jinki, at the same time wondering if this is the Universe’s answer to how could this get any worse?

“Not an alien,” sighs the alien, no, boy. He ties a rope around Jinki’s waist and signals and then, they’re both being lifted away from the rink. When Jinki lands, still in shock on the first floor Kibum jumps on him, shaking his shoulders.

“Get out of here!” says the puppy-eyed boy, “This place is going to blow!”

Jinki notes his Korean has an accent, wakes up from his daze as Kibum pulls him out into the sunshine, past other fleeing humans. The alien boy is lost in the crowd and they reach their bicycles when the explosion hits, the part of the mall where the rink was collapsing. As they cycle away, Kibum sees a familiar head of brown hair, a tongue flicking out to lick the corner of a mouth. The head turns, eyes widening and Kibum pedals faster, around the corner and out of sight.

3.

Back in the bank, Kibum is hurrying around, packing things up.

“They came out in light, they’re getting stronger,” he says to himself. “Pack!” he shrieks at Jinki who flaps helplessly and tries to arrange all their food as neatly as possible. Kibum starts sawing at the table legs, muttering to himself. Jinki worries for his sanity.

“Kibum?” Jinki edges closer.

“Pack!” he barks, and Jinki resumes arranging the food. Once all the legs have been sawed off Kibum takes them and retreats to the bathroom, locking the door. Jinki is really worried now. The clock on the wall says 4:30pm which means that have roughly three to two and a half hours of sunlight left and even so, after the incident in the mall, a zombie-free city can’t be guaranteed. Jinki finishes packing the food and moves on to folding his bedding (a pillow and some sheets). The bathroom door remains closed. One hour later when shadows grow long outside, the door creaks open and Kibum stalks out, fills the kettle and sets it to boil.

“Are you ok?” asks Jinki, putting his hands up in defense as Kibum swings round. Kibum shoves something at him and Jinki gapes, Kibum has carved him some stakes. He feels very Buffy-like now, a bubble of fan-boy happiness expanding within. He manages to say thank you without glomping Kibum and praising thanks, then goes off into his own little world. Kibum watches and gives a smug smile. Small things for small minds. The kettle whistles and Kibum quickly pours the water into the noodle pots and they both get ready to eat.

“We’re heading for the old airport, its closer. We’ll never reach the new one in time,” says Kibum, “And I heard from someone today that there’s more chance of finding a pilot near the old one-the zombies have started surrounding the other.”

“Got it,” Jinki wants to say, but his mouth is in pain. Kibum sighs self-pityingly, shoves a bottle of water at him.

They leave the safety of the bank at exactly 6pm, loading their things onto the bicycles. Jinki groans when his topples over from the weight of the food, it’s just not built to support so many things. Kibum is having a similar problem, fiddling with the potted plant and bags of money he managed to uncover (Jinki didn’t ask). Kibum growls, takes his knife out and runs, smashing the side-window of an abandoned car.

“What are you doing?!” says Jinki, looking around, “That’s somebody’s car!”

Kibum is now sitting in the front seat, head bent under the dashboard. The car itself has seen better days, paint falling off and its bumper half smashed. Jinki hasn’t even heard of the car brand (Kancil) before but he’s pretty sure it was built a decade or two ago. It’s small, tinny and looks like it’d topple over if you pushed hard enough. The car makes a creaky noise and Kibum’s head reappears, looking happy. He turns to Jinki.

“Can you drive?”

4.

When Jinki says he can drive, it means he has a license to drive. It doesn’t mean he can drive well though as Kibum soon finds out after Jinki nearly hits a wall after rounding a corner. His throat is hoarse from screaming and his nails hurt from where he’s digging them into the seat.

“Left, left, leeeeeeeeeeft!” screams Kibum and Jinki jerks the wheel. They go spinning across the road and knock down a small tree. The Kancil whines as Jinki reverses.

“I feel sick,” moans Kibum, holding his forehead.

“Almost there!” sings Jinki. He’s enjoying the feel of the road, finally being able to drive since he passed his test a year ago. His parents had forbidden him from touching the family car after he nearly killed Yoochun (who had amazing reflexes for a hobo).  They pass a Hindu temple and Jinki misses the turn-off, having been admiring the carvings. The road gives way to grass and suddenly Jinki is mowing down graves.

“What is wrong with you?!” demands Kibum, “Stop mashing up dead people!”

Jinki manages to turn the car around and get back on the road, leaving the cemetery behind them as he screeches to a halt at the entrance of the old airport. Kibum lets out a breath and stares at the car’s clock. The time reads 6:45pm. There’s no sign of any other people from where they are, no cars, no sign of life. Then again, they could be in hiding. There’s a chain-link gate separating them from the airport, a rusty padlock at the front. Well, thinks Kibum, Someone must be here to keep it locked. He unbuckles his seatbelt (the one thing that saved him on that hellride) and places his hand on the door.

“Wait here, I’ll go open the ga-heeeeeeey!”

Jinki whoops as he presses the accelerator, wind blowing his hair through the smashed window. Kibum screams bloody murder as they crash through the gate and skid onto the runway.

“Kibum? Hey Kibum, are you ok?” Jinki leans forward to stare at the thing that is Kim Kibum, plastered against the windshield. The other says something that sounds a whole lot like “AGLSDhfgkjhewgJHG!” to Jinki, but probably means “You are so dead when I unstick myself, you sodding bastard!” so he pats Kibum consolingly on the back before grabbing his pack and running for the air hanger. The doors to the hanger are wide open and there are a variety of airplanes sitting there, from old two engine models to private planes and even a few helicopters. No sign of any pilots though…

Kibum staggers into the air hanger, holding his chest and points a finger threateningly at Jinki.

“You…Never…Drive…Again!” he gasps out, before taking a swig of water. Taking out his compact he sees that his once-stylish hair is matted with sweat and plastered in awkward directions to his forehead.

“My hair!”

Jinki looks at him, confused.

“Looks the same…Oh, no, wait, you’re sweating quite a bit. I should’ve turned the air-con up.”

Kibum takes this as a personal insult to his Fabulousness and yes, Jinki should have turned the freaking air-con up but that’s beside the point. His hair is suffering from the idiot’s maltreatment and-Kibum opens up his plastic pot of FAB-he’s almost of hair gel.

“There’s no pilots here,” says Jinki, staring at the plane forlornly. He reminds Kibum of a sad panda, more so because of the two black eyes Kibum plans on giving him. The wind blows through the hanger and Kibum looks outside, watches the sun disappear. The time on his watch reads 7pm.

“Do you know how to fly-no wait, scratch that I’ll figure this out myself,” Kibum starts looking inside the planes. As a member of GLEE, breaking and flying planes was not part of the manual…Or Kibum hadn’t reached a level high enough to be taught this.

“There’s a plane missing from this hanger,” says Jinki from outside, “And someone was here recently…Ooh, chocopies!”

Kibum swears, they’ve missed the last pilot. A roaring sound fills the hanger and Kibum runs to the door of the plane, sees Jinki sitting in the cockpit of a helicopter.

“Hey, wait for me!” he cries, ducking low to avoid being caught up by the blades, and into the co-pilot seat. Jinki gives his a thumbs up and closes the door, pulling the control back slowly. Kibum straps himself in, finally they’re getting out. Jinki releases the brakes, gets ready to take-off, smiling at Kibum. Maybe, thinks Kibum, maybe I’ll forgive him for the car.

“Take-off!” shouts Jinki, pulling the controller back and Kibum leans back into the seat as the wind whips harder around them and….Nothing.

“Whatthefuck?” asks Kibum when they don’t move. Jinki looks equally confused and turns off the engine. They both get out and start checking the helicopter for any malfunctions.

“Everything seemed fine when I first checked it Kibum, I swear, nothing is wrong with the engine, the motors, the blades”

Jinki stops and turns to look at where Kibum is pointing. The other boy is fuming silently, shoulders shaking.

“Oh…” Jinki’s voice wobbles, “It’s strapped to the floor.”

Kibum points to a metal plaque, also screwed to the floor.

“Ahhh…It’s a demonstration….Helicopter…”

The positive part of Kibum’s brain thinks this is God’s way of saving him from Fiery Death in a Helicopter. The negative part thinks Jinki is an idiot, who needs to bit hit, many times.

“There are still two more hangers!” says Jinki, jumping up and down in relief, “We may find someone there!”

“Or,” says Kibum, because today really has been a bad day, “They’ll find us.”

Jinki cocks his head to one side, processing Kibum’s words when the other boy grabs his pack and pulls Jinki to the hanger door, slamming him against it.

“Your little helicopter made a lot of noise, so you’d better find a working one or we’re both dead,” hisses Kibum, jerking his head to the side. From where they’ve parked the car, shapes are starting to emerge from the trees, from the drains. There’s little daylight left and no way out. Jinki doesn’t think the car can take another drive, much less a long drive to wherever Kibum plans on going and he has no idea how to fly a plane. Kibum’s face is drawn, tired in the shadows. The zombies reach the car.

“We’re going to have to make a run for it,” says Kibum, “There’s no other way. Stay close.”

Kibum grabs some gravel and throws it over the zombies, where it lands, pitter-pattering on concrete. They turn, momentarily distracted and then they run, sprinting as fast as they can with their heavy packs across runway and grass. A glimmer of hope grows in Jinki’s heart as they near the fences lining the airport, which lead to the road outside.

“No!” says Kibum, halting abruptly. On the other side of the road is jungle, and from the jungle…Jinki prays. Kibum is cursing in English and Korean, knife already drawn. Jinki retrieves his stakes and they start moving towards the end of the runway, which seems zombie-free and where two fire-trucks are parked.

“We’ll be fine!” Jinki manages to say, chest heaving from the effort of running so fast with his pack. Kibum nods, one step ahead. Jinki turns around to look at the approaching zombies, and trips, somersaulting twice. Holding his head, he feels blood. Luckily his hoodie covers his arms, but he knows a few bruises are on the way. Kibum skids to a stop and turns around, grabbing his arm.

“Come on!”

And so they run, Kibum’s hand warm and alive in his, zombies closing in from behind and on the left. The fire-truck seems to be in working condition and Kibum throws his pack up, climbs monkey-like up the ladder and opens the hatchet. Jinki opens the door. And screams like a little girl.

“Fireman zombies?!”

The fireman zombie opens its toothless mouth and maggots squirm inside. Jinki drives a stake into its head, making a face at the squelching noise before jumping back out. Kibum has jumped out of the hatchet, stabbing at something within. On the runway zombies gather, arms outstretched and then, Kibum is next to him, pulling his hand as they make a break for the fence at the end; nothing but road on that side. Jinki’s thighs ache and his head throbs; Kibum is short of breath and has zombie guts all over his trousers. They fall against the link-fence with a clatter, Kibum urging Jinki to climb goddamnit, climb and run. Kibum manages to push Jinki up, ordering him to grab a hold of the fence and himself; he turns back to stare at the zombies. They move slowly, like they know they’ve got their prey, eyes rolling from where they sit or hang, mouths slack-jawed and limbs misshapen. Above him Jinki misses a hold, foot breaking through weak metal.

“Climb faster!” Kibum practically sobs, “You don’t want to become like them do you?”

The moans grow louder and above it Kibum hears a whirring sound, a low rumble. The light is so close to disappearing for good when dust explodes around them and the crowd of zombies is knocked into the air as a plane dives through, before curving up into the air and turning around to knock the rest away. The plane slides to a stop before them-

“Alien!” cries Jinki happily,

-And the freakishly tall boy waves at them from the cockpit. Kibum drags Jinki off the fence, shoves his pack at him, and they both run into the waiting plane. The second they close the door the plane is moving again, bobbing up and down as they run over the undead. The plane is a small one, a private plane with a table and two seats next to each other and two seats side-ways against the windows. Kibum eyes the ratty yellow carpet and wallpaper but says nothing, choosing instead to lean against Jinki.

“Your heart is beating so quickly,” he mutters, half-dead already. He’s pretty sure he’ll get white hairs tomorrow from all this.

“Can you feel my heartbeat?” asks Jinki, putting on his best manly voice. Kibum grunts and hits his head against Jinki’s lightly.

“You guys ok?” asks the alien.

Jinki jumps, he’d forgotten about him.

“Thanks for saving us, we would’ve died if not for you,” he says.

“No,” says Kibum wearily, “I would’ve died saving your useless ass.”

“I’m headed for Singapore,” says the alien, “It’s still safe.”

“What’s your name?” Jinki feels the need to ask, rather than calling him freakishly-tall-alien-boy-thing in his mind.

“Minho,” comes the answer, “Choi Minho.”

“I’m Lee Jinki and this is Kim Kibum! You’re really good at flying!” Jinki strokes Kibum’s hair, hesitantly at first, but Kibum offers no resistance, seemingly asleep. Minho pauses, mulling over his answer.

“Thanks…My father is a pilot. This is my first time actually.”

“WHAT?!” exclaims Kibum, shooting upright and hitting Jinki in the jaw, “I’m too young to die!”

Jinki is in a similar state, babbling nonsense about statistics and burying his face in his plushie. Minho sighs and kicks the door to the cockpit shut.

5.

A few minutes later they’ve exhausted themselves and Kibum is fast asleep on Jinki’s shoulder, breathing softly. Their hands are linked and in sleep, Kibum looks his real age rather than the kick-ass, bitchy fighter he portrays. Their packs lie opposite them and Jinki thinks back to the pyramid mall, when he was putting Kibum’s things back. Thinks of the gun he saw, with the initials P.J engraved on it. The cell phone he’d thought had no battery but was actually turned off, on silent mode with 36 missed calls and 50 sms’s, most from someone called Jaejoong-hyung. Then on the rink, when he asked Kibum about secrets and the other didn’t answer. At night, when Kibum cried in his sleep, talking to himself about Thailand, a gun, Jaebum.

Kibum shifted so his head was now tucked beneath Jinki’s, looping an arm unconsciously though his. Jinki pressed his head against the seat, eyes drooping before he fell asleep against Kibum. In the cockpit Minho turns on the small radio, hums along to “Yesterday” by the Carpenters.

“I’ll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours”

A/N: Well this is super-long for what was supposed to be short ^^'; Happy holidays everyone, no updates for a week or so as I'm away *sings*. Going North to freeze my butt off...Come to Sapporo SHINee, we have free beer! Thanks everyone for your lovely comments on the last chap, they keep me going! <3 Any feedback or spazzing is greatly appreciated :D
 All will be revealed....