[ontae] Forfeit
Forfeit
~4,599 words
Onew/Taemin, PG, angst
Summary: Jinki wonders if it’s okay to be selfish, just this once.
As the leader, Jinki has learned to give up a lot of things.
Some of them are petty sacrifices, like Jonghyun’s obedience whenever Jinki tries and fails to haul him out of bed on a schedule-filled morning, or the last fried chicken leg on the dinner plate that Jinki really wants but Kibum demands he needs more. He has given up everything from first dibs to the shower after a grueling dance practice (Kibum and Jonghyun would take it in turns to claim that right) to his favorite spot on the living room couch (Minho has recently taken to stretching himself out on the entire couch as he plays his favorite soccer videogame on his PSP). Not to mention all the pocket money that he has spent on bribing the company van driver so that his group can go to the all-you-can-eat ice cream joint every once in a while (almost always, he also ends up picking up the entire tab, especially when Taemin smiles gratefully up at him, a smudge of melted chocolate ice cream dotting the corner of his lip).
And then there are the big sacrifices, like the freedom to speak and act unchecked or break down under pressure. The blissful ignorance of a young and idealistic entertainer who doesn’t have to deal with company politics. The child-like helplessness of one who is unable to protect anything, because if there is one thing that Jinki is willing to fight for, it is his bandmates’ right to act their own age, smiling and laughing without a care in the world, if only behind closed dormitory doors and away from the endless demands of managers and fans.
Sometimes the weight of being the leader really burns Jinki out. He never complains, of course, because it’s enough for him that Jonghyun and Kibum are always jokingly reminding him of his distinct lack of leader-like characteristics, all of which seem to involve superficial qualities such as the eloquence of a smooth talker or the ability not to trip spectacularly over perfectly horizontal surfaces. He takes all their jibes in stride, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling a little put out at their casual dismissal of any semblance of authority that he possesses.
That’s why when Jinki is stressed out, he doesn’t vent his feelings out on Jonghyun, who will only laugh heartily at his expense, then, upon realizing that Jinki is genuinely upset, will look sympathetically at him and shoo the other members away so they can leave Jinki alone for an hour or two. Jinki doesn’t think it is a good idea to seek comfort from Kibum, either, because where Jonghyun laughs, Kibum scoffs condescendingly and gives Jinki pep talks on why he is the leader for a reason. Jinki doesn’t even have to tell Minho anything, because Minho is the kind of freak who can assess your emotional state of being with just a single glance. Minho’s solution would be to give Jinki a consoling pat on the back and maybe offer to play soccer with him to get his mind off things.
In truth, Jinki appreciates that they all mean well. But when Jinki is stressed out, all he wants is to be hugged and told that everything is going to turn out okay, just like how he remembers his mother comforting him as a child. He wonders if the desire is due to the part of his brain that is constantly protesting against the unfair way that he was forced to grow up, so damn fast in so little time. It’s a pretty tall order to ask from his younger bandmates, and he’s never expected them to indulge him by acting like the grownup while he plays the role of the spoiled kid.
So it comes as a surprise to him one day, after a temper-testing argument with one of their managers, when Taemin quietly enters their bedroom and sits at the foot of Jinki’s bed, watching Jinki as he lies curled up in the fetal position, looking like he wants to stay that way forever.
“I thought Jonghyun told you to do your homework in the computer room,” Jinki reprimands him tiredly, not having the energy to inject the appropriate amount of sternness in his voice.
Taemin says nothing, only stares back at Jinki as if he is contemplating a matter of utmost importance. Then he crawls onto Jinki’s bed on all fours, pushes Jinki’s knees away from where they are tucked snugly underneath his chin. He wriggles his way under Jinki’s arm, face emerging inches from Jinki’s own, one wiry arm wrapping itself around Jinki’s neck, the other reaching up to stroke Jinki’s bed-mussed hair. And he smiles for all the world like the sun on a midsummer day, and Jinki feels the tight knot of anxiety unclenching in his gut, feels it evaporating into tears that threaten to leak out of the corners of his eyes. Taemin’s grin falters and the hand in Jinki’s hair slides down to pat him gently on the cheek, stopping only after Jinki offers him a weak smile in return.
It’s hard to blink back the tears, but somehow Jinki manages it - it may have something to do with the fingers that are now interlocking themselves with his, or the leg that is hoisted over his hip, weighing down on him like the limb of a particularly bony teddy bear. He doesn’t know how long he is going to hold out before his face crumples, so he buries his head into the crook of Taemin’s neck, like Taemin has done to him countless times before when he’s feeling homesick or in a choreographic slump. He kind of gets how appealing the gesture is now - Taemin smells like citrus soap and Kibum’s strawberry-scented shampoo, and his milk-white skin tickles Jinki’s nose as he attempts to snuggle closer.
Taemin squeezes his hand and Jinki’s eyes flutter closed, and for once his dreams aren’t riddled with lurking shadows and blank faces turned expectantly up at him.
-
Jinki has a headache.
In the kitchen, Jonghyun and Kibum are squabbling over the last cup of yoghurt in the fridge - it’s Jinki’s, actually, but he’s too tired to leave his sprawled-out position on the couch to tell them so, and it isn’t his favorite flavor, anyway. Minho wordlessly puts a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the coffee table before shuffling into the bedroom without a backwards glance.
Jinki hears Taemin’s voice over the racket that Jonghyun and Kibum are making, and he catches snatches of indistinct dialogue that ends in hushed silence. When he opens his eyes, Taemin is hovering above him, eating yoghurt.
“That’s mine, you know,” Jinki informs him with a half-hearted whine, budging up a space so that Taemin can sit down and pillow Jinki’s head in his lap.
“I know,” Taemin answers sweetly, undeterred from depositing ill-gotten yoghurt scoops into his mouth. “Want some, hyung?”
“Where’d those two go?” Jinki asks, dutifully opening his mouth as Taemin spoon-feeds him.
Taemin shrugs. “I told them to buy me ice cream,” he says, as if getting his hyungs to do his bidding were a normal occurrence. “I figured you wanted some peace and quiet.”
Jinki rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face gives him away. “Yeah, and you’re still hungry.” He laughs when Taemin swats at him with his free hand.
Later, Jinki puts the bottle of aspirin back in the medicine cabinet - he hadn’t needed it after all.
-
Everybody dotes on Taemin, Jinki notes. The extreme case is Kibum, whose affection for their maknae is just this side of smothering - Taemin doesn’t seem to mind too much, though, probably because his status as Kibum’s “son” grants him permanent immunity against any mishap that could possibly occur in the SHINee household. Kibum spoils Taemin rotten and always takes Taemin’s word over everyone else’s - even Jonghyun’s, a fact that Jonghyun lets slip only because he can say the same for Kibum.
In Jonghyun’s case, Taemin is the little brother he never had. Growing up with a noona was all well and good, but there is a lot more shopping and interest in makeup and clothes involved when you have a girl for a sibling (or Kibum for a best friend). Taemin is Jonghyun’s co-conspirator in pulling pranks on the other members, the eager listener who never tires of hearing Jonghyun talk about all things and sundry. Jonghyun is the only one who can bluntly give Taemin constructive criticism and not feel bad about it afterwards. It’s the reason why Taemin looks up to Jonghyun in a way that is different from the admiration he reserves for the rest of them, and it shows in the way his vocal control has vastly improved, in how he can sing and dance simultaneously with noticeably less effort than before.
Minho is a tricky one. Jinki suspects that Taemin confides in Minho the most, if the way that he always catches them talking in quiet tones off to a corner of the apartment is any indication. Minho isn’t exactly the chattiest of conversationalists, but there is something about Taemin that elicits more words from him in a single sitting than Jinki can coax out of him in an entire day, and Jinki doesn’t quite know how to feel about that.
Jinki doesn’t quite know how to feel about his sudden urge to scrutinize every detail of Taemin’s interactions with the rest of the band, for that matter. For what it is worth, he thinks that he treats Taemin the same as everyone else, because he is the leader and he’s pretty sure that unnecessary bias isn’t part of the job description.
Another part of his brain is telling him that the fact that he is thinking about Taemin at all, instead of memorizing the script for a variety show they’re filming three days from now, is unnecessary bias in itself.
Jinki chooses to ignore this.
-
If anything, it is Taemin who treats everybody equally. Jinki is by no means special, because any skinship they share is offset by how Taemin lets Kibum hang all over him on a regular basis, how he falls asleep on top of Jonghyun on winter nights when the heater is broken, how Minho gives him piggy-back rides to the kitchen when he is too groggy to get out of bed and eat breakfast.
“Are you okay, hyung? You’ve been spacing out for the past five minutes,” Jonghyun observes, half-irritated and half-concerned. They are at the dance studio, practicing their new song’s choreography, and it’s not exactly the best time to remain immobile while staring off into space.
“I want a hug,” Jinki answers automatically, then feels the mortification sinking in when Jonghyun shoots him a blank stare that could give Minho a run for his money. He half-expects Jonghyun to break out into a belting rendition of the Onew Sangtae song.
Instead, Jonghyun grins long and wide, says “okay,” and hugs him. Jinki is startled for a second, only now just registering the stickiness of Jonghyun’s sweaty arms and shoulders.
“Yah, you’re all gross! Get off me!” Jinki wriggles until Jonghyun’s arms literally slide off him. Jonghyun cackles like a maniac and runs off to terrorize Kibum.
It’s different, Jinki thinks unhappily, as he wipes off his arms with a clean towel. Grossness aside, he feels nothing when Jonghyun hugs him. But when Taemin does it - hell, when Taemin so much as beams in his general direction - Jinki feels warmth curling pleasantly in his insides, spiraling down to the tips of his toes; he feels light and giddy and on top of the world, as if all of his problems are just a distant memory of no particular consequence. Jinki wishes he were exaggerating even just a bit, but he isn’t - he wonders if he should be thinking that Taemin’s effect on him is like some sort of performance enhancer, some drug he’ll start relying on when things take a turn for the crappier.
Because it can’t possibly be the other option.
-
Jinki gets tired more easily these days. It probably has something to do with the extra effort he is investing in trying to channel Minho’s spirit whenever Taemin touches him - smile, remain silent, look bored, and lope quietly away, in that order. His stomach still does little flipflops when Taemin smiles back, but he thinks he’s getting better at quashing the feeling, rolling it into a tiny ball and shoving it into the deepest recesses of his mind.
“What is up with you?” Kibum demands, poking him hard in the stomach as he lies on his bed.
Jinki winces. “G’way Kibummie ‘m tired,” he mumbles, throwing an arm over his eyes for emphasis.
Kibum huffs, not moving from where he is sitting cross-legged on Jinki’s bed. “Taemin-goon told me you’ve been weird lately.”
Jinki tenses. “When haven’t I been weird for you guys?” he says with an awkward laugh. He rolls over on his side so his face won’t give him away.
He can practically sense Kibum’s eyes rolling. “Fine. Weirder than usual, then,” he amends.
Jinki bites his lip. “I really am just tired. And I’m worried about Jonghyun.”
There is a short pause. Jinki wants to kick himself for using Jonghyun’s sickness as an excuse to end the conversation, but he wasn’t lying, not really. He is worried sick about Jonghyun. It is half of the reason why he’s this tired at the moment. Supposedly it should be easier for him to take care of his group when they’re one member short, but Kibum’s constant mood swings, Minho’s brooding, and even Taemin’s lack of enthusiasm is more energy-draining than Jonghyun at his most high-maintenance.
Jinki could really use a hug from Taemin right now.
“Well, I’m worried too,” Kibum breaks the silence. “So are Minho and Taemin. But you’re the leader, Jinki-hyung. You’re not supposed to lock yourself in our room and mope until Jjong comes back. Go give Taeminnie a pep talk or something.”
Jinki runs a hand over his face and sighs. He sits up and ruffles Kibum’s hair affectionately, averting his gaze out of politeness when Kibum sniffles and rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Then Jinki stands up and walks out of the room. The TV is turned on - Minho looks up from his position on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. Jinki hesitates, then pats Minho on the head (it irks him somewhat that he doesn’t have to stoop to do it). Minho graces him with a small smile, then tilts his head in the direction of the computer room.
-
The faint glow of a cellphone screen is the only light in there when Jinki enters.
“Hey,” Taemin greets, eyes still trained on the cellphone in his hand. He’s sitting on the floor Indian-style, back against the wall.
“Hey. What’s up?” Jinki plops down beside him, caves into the urge to rest his head on Taemin’s shoulder. “I talked to Jonghyun’s umma already,” he adds, managing to read the text before Taemin flips his phone shut.
Taemin reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together - Jinki swallows hard, tries not to think about the ridiculous way his heartbeat has jumped several paces faster. “What did she say?”
“He’s going to be fine,” Jinki says, in his most confident tone, which is more than he can say for what Jonghyun’s umma sounded like when he had talked to her.
“Are you?” Taemin asks, in return.
Jinki tightens his grip on Taemin’s hand. He flashes his trademark toothy smile, but Taemin’s touch seems to be having the opposite effect on him today - he feels exhausted and weak, and the back of his eyes are stinging. It takes twice as much effort to pull up his facial muscles.
“It’s okay, hyung. You can even cry if you want to.” Taemin shifts so that he can wrap his other arm around Jinki’s shoulder in a loose hug, which tightens as Jinki abandons all pretense and clings to Taemin like a lifeline.
“Not crying,” Jinki mumbles, snuffling just a bit when Taemin rubs slow circles on his back. “I came here to comfort you, okay.”
Taemin laughs. “O-kay… I feel so much better now, hyung.”
Jinki slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re getting too cheeky for a maknae,” he complains. But he smiles.
“Yeah? Well for a leader, you sure are a crybaby!”
“You just said I could cry if I wanted to!”
“I was kidding. I got scared when you looked like you really would, though. I hugged you like this so I wouldn’t have to see your face.” Taemin is snickering into Jinki’s neck, now.
It’s tickling Jinki, and he pushes Taemin away with an effort. “You’re horrible,” he pretends to sulk, pouting. “Kibum would be so proud.”
Taemin’s eyes light up. “Wanna go pick on him next?” He disentangles himself from Jinki and scrambles up.
Jinki’s face falls. He kind of wants to keep Taemin to himself for a while more, but he knows that that isn’t a good idea. “Um. You go on ahead.”
“What’s wrong?” Taemin crouches beside him, eyes wide and concerned.
Jinki’s grateful that the lights are off so Taemin can’t see his flushed face. “Nothing. Really, go to Kibum. He’s probably sobbing into his pillow already, or.” He stares hard at the floor, trying not to let the neediness seep into his voice. He lets out a gasp of surprise when Taemin yanks hard on his shoulders and his face falls flat against Taemin’s chest.
“Hyung, you’re cute when you’re jealous,” Taemin teases, cradling Jinki’s head in his arms as he kneels down, sitting back on the soles of his feet.
Jinki’s cheeks glow a brighter red. “You’re - I’m not-” he sputters, struggling from Taemin’s headlock.
“I know,” Taemin whispers, patting Jinki’s hair. “I like you too, hyung.”
Jinki stops flailing and jerks back in surprise. “W-what?”
Taemin rolls his eyes and leans forward until Jinki can feel his breath against his lips. Jinki stays very still - he can feel Taemin’s hands clutching at the front of his shirt, and for all the bravado that the younger boy is putting up, the slight tremor of his clenched fists still alerts Jinki to his nervousness.
So it finally clicks in Jinki’s head that he should maybe unfreeze and take the lead. His hand’s shaking worse than Taemin’s, but he manages to rest it against Taemin’s neck without incident and push just so.
And then there are little flashes of light imploding at the back of his eyelids as Taemin’s mouth presses into his own - they start off at an awkward angle but Jinki tilts his head to fix it and the flashes of light grow bigger, brighter when he tugs on Taemin’s lower lip and Taemin lets out a tiny gasp. He leans back against the wall, pulling Taemin to him, and he thinks there’s nothing better than this, his heart beating so fast, Taemin’s pulse even faster underneath his fingers.
Brightness floods into the room for real, and it takes a second for Jinki to realize that someone has thrown the light switch on. It takes another second for Taemin to pull away from him, albeit a bit reluctantly, to glance over at the newcomer.
“What the hell.” Kibum stands slack-jawed in the doorway.
“Uh. Kibum-ah,” Jinki says meekly. He doesn’t like the scary look on Kibum’s face, not at all. Taemin’s fingers detach from his shirt in favor of clutching tightly at his hand. Jinki notices, with morbid fascination, how Kibum’s furious gaze slips temporarily to this blatant display of unity before returning to its business of boring a hole in Jinki’s stricken face.
Taemin decides to break the crackling silence. “Kibum-hyung, I-”
“Go to the bedroom, Taemin-ah.”
“But-”
“Now.”
Taemin gulps and shoots Jinki an apologetic look before scampering to his feet and trudging out of the room, glancing worriedly over his shoulder.
Jinki stands up too, bracing himself as Kibum stalks toward him and grabs a fistful of his shirt. Kibum’s eyes are the darkest that Jinki has ever seen them, and it’s all that Jinki can do to keep himself from looking away. Kibum’s next words are issued in a livid hiss. “What were you thinking?”
“I-”
“Hyung, you can’t.”
“I know.”
“You will get into so much trouble for-”
“I know,” Jinki repeats, looking thoroughly miserable.
Kibum’s glare softens. “This is killing you, isn’t it.”
Jinki lets out a sigh of frustration. “I tried to stop. I really did.”
Kibum stares at him for a long moment, then releases him. He runs a hand through his hair and suddenly looks very, very tired. “I knew something like this was bound to happen. But I never expected-god, Taemin, hyung…”
Jinki’s chest tightens. “I didn’t - I can’t choose who to - what do you want me to do?” He hates how angry and desperate he sounds, but he can’t help thinking how cruel and unfair the situation is. How he gave up so damn much and how he found the one thing that makes him so happy he cannot bear to throw it away, how he finally has it in his grasp only to be told that it can’t ever be his.
Kibum flinches but stands his ground. “You said it yourself. You know the rules better than any of us. Please, hyung. You have to make Taemin understand at least that much.”
Jinki’s hands clench into fists. He had known all along, anyway. He is the leader, and there is still an endless list of things for him to sacrifice for the greater good of the group. There are so many things that he is never meant to have…and he’s sick of it.
“Do you really want this?” Kibum asks.
Jinki only smiles bitterly and turns away.
-
Jinki skips dinner. He’s gone back to lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to focus on the rumbling of his stomach instead of the sound of his already-chipped heart shattering into ever-tinier pieces that are just waiting to be snatched away and discarded until he has nothing left for himself.
He can hear the other three talking outside the door; Kibum’s voice is distinct in its sharpness, and Jinki recognizes Minho’s calm baritone. Taemin’s tone is nothing short of argumentative. Occasionally, their muffled dialogue is punctuated by the shrill tune of the Abracadabra intro, which is the current ringtone of Kibum’s phone, and Jinki suspects that even Jonghyun is contributing to the discussion from a hospital bed somewhere far away.
Jinki shuts his eyes tight and buries his head deeper into his pillow, willing the voices and the cellphone beeps to go away. There’s a different voice echoing in his head, repeating words he heard only hours ago. “But you’re the leader, Jinki-hyung. You’re not supposed to lock yourself in our room and mope…”
He doesn’t feel much like leading right now. And Kibum can say whatever he wants, but giving Taemin a proper explanation is not something that Jinki is going to be an active participant of. They seem to be handling it well enough on their own, and Jinki figures that they ought to grant him at least this, one moment of obstinacy and self-centeredness in exchange for all the times he had shut an eye to their defiance in the past.
His back is to the door, so he doesn’t need to hide his face when it opens with a loud creak. He wonders with trepidation if Kibum and Minho are going to ambush him, knock sense into him until it rattles against all the shards of his heart and chases them clean out the open window. But the echo of steps that head for his bed are lighter than Minho’s, more hurried than Kibum’s, and it amazes Jinki how fast the smile spreads onto his face when he feels a weight settling on the left side of his bed, feels familiar fingers working their way into his.
In the dark, Taemin’s eyes twinkle like countryside stars, and Jinki thinks he can keep going forever, as long as Taemin smiles the way he does, lights up and shines in a way that makes Jinki’s heart ache so much he never wants it to stop. This, only this. The one thing he refuses to give up.
And then Kibum is throwing the light switch on again, ruining the moment with his obnoxiously loud voice. “I wasn’t done talking yet, Taemin-ah-oh.”
Jinki sighs and lays his head on Taemin’s lap as he watches Kibum and Minho making themselves comfortable on Taemin’s bed. His eyes dart apprehensively up at Taemin, but Taemin just shrugs and gives his fingers a light squeeze. It’s enough reassurance for Jinki.
Kibum rolls his eyes, apparently untouched by the moment. “So,” he says. “Jjong and Minho and I have decided that we will allow this…thing…to continue, even if you two are going to get hell for it if you get caught, which you won’t because we swore Taeminnie that we would protect him from all the evils of the world-”
“I feel so loved,” Jinki mutters, and Taemin gives him a sympathetic pat on the forehead.
“Shut up and bask in our unconditional benevolence, you ingrate,” Kibum retorts airily, ignoring Jinki’s sniff of disbelief. “As I was saying-”
“Hyung, we just want you to be happy,” Minho cuts in. “You’ve done so much for us, and you’ve never expected anything in return. So we decided that it’s our turn to do something for you-”
“Yah, stop flattering him or he’ll start getting ideas.” Kibum nudges Minho on the shoulder. “Oh, by the way, Jjong had a say in this, too.” He shoves his cellphone in Jinki’s face.
From: Bling Bling Jjong
7:03pm
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KE KE JINKI HYUNG YOU PEDOPHILE ˛
Kibum will kill you for corrupting our maknae
I hate you for having fun without me >:c
No I’m just kidding I love you hyung ♥
But not like that or Taeminnie will get mad
I’m so bored here this sucks you better visit me
or I refuse to give you my blessing >:c
Jinki laughs, loud and unrestrained, and he’s just realized how exhilarating it is; he hasn’t laughed like this in ages and it’s as if a huge weight is lifted off of his shoulders. He’s laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes, and he can vaguely make out the voices of his dongsaengs above him.
“Are you sure about choosing Jinki-hyung, Taemin-ah? He’s weird and crazy and he’ll make a terrible daughter-in-law.”
“I like this part of Jinki-hyung too!”
“Hyung, stop laughing, you’re going to suffocate yourself.”
Jinki gasps and manages to pull himself up to a sitting position, still laughing. Kibum’s stare is reproachful, Minho’s mildly concerned - Jinki launches himself at them and wraps them up in a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers, then pulls back and beams. Kibum glares at him, but the tips of his ears are slowly turning pink. Minho just smiles back.
Taemin hugs Jinki from behind and rests his chin on the older boy’s shoulder, and Jinki can feel his heart-shards reassembling themselves into a discernible shape, melted back into a whole by the warmth curling in his insides and spreading down to the tips of his toes.
And he feels like he’s on top of the world.
random lulz extra
Someone’s phone is ringing.
“Taemin-ah, don’t answer it, we’re on in ten minutes,” Kibum says lazily as he flicks over the pages of a magazine.
“I wasn’t going to; it’s Jonghyun-hyung’s phone,” Taemin answers. He bites his lip and glances at the phone, which is still ringing persistently.
Kibum shuts his magazine. “Jjong, don’t even-”
“Hello? Oh, hey, Jinki-hyung! How’s it going?” Jonghyun pauses, then puts his phone in Taemin’s outstretched hand.
“You guys spoil him too much,” Kibum complains, hitting Jonghyun upside the head. Jonghyun yelps and darts to the mirror to check his hair. “How’s he supposed to recover when he’s ringing us up every other hour?”
Minho shrugs. “Leave him alone. He’s just worried about us.”
Kibum snorts and watches Taemin talking happily into the receiver, making wide, circular gestures with his arms that Jinki cannot see. “That idiot. He has no business fussing over other people when he should be worrying about himself.”
Taemin bounds over to him, puppy-dog eyes turned up full-blast. “Kibum-hyung, can we go visit Jinki-hyung after our performance?”
Kibum wavers, hugs Taemin tight, then shouts into the receiver still in Taemin’s hand, “NO YOU ARE NOT GIVING MY SON YOUR VIRUS. GO TO SLEEP YOU IDIOT LEADER.” He calmly plucks the phone from Taemin, ends the call, and deposits the phone on the dressing table.
“You tried,” Jonghyun comforts a crestfallen Taemin. The stage manager pops her head into the room and tells them to stand by, and Minho wraps an arm around Taemin, steering him out of the room.
(half an hour later)
From: Jinki-Onew-Dubu
4:48pm
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I visited you when you were sick :c
So you have to visit me too Jonghyun-ah
It’s only polite
Thanks for taking care of them for me~
From: Leader Onew
4:50pm
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Kibummie! I’m sorry! Don’t be mad at me T_T
I’m resting a lot! I slept for 6 hours today
I’ll sleep even longer tonight
Promise you’ll look after Taeminnie, okay? :3
From: Lee Jinki
4:52pm
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Minho-yah, I know you listen to me, so
VISIT ME VISIT ME VISIT MEEEEEEE T_T
But only if you have free time after schedule
Please keep your childish hyungs in check
I’m counting on you! Thanks!
From: Jinki-hyung <3
4:53pm
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Don’t worry, I am still alive!
I miss you :’c
I love you so much ♥ ke ke ke
~chu!
There’s a moment of silence, then the sound of several flip phones snapping shut.
A sigh.
“Fine. Someone call the driver, we’re going to Jinki-hyung’s.”
Unbeta-ed | First SHINee / kpop fic in general | Concrit appreciated ♥
~4,599 words
Onew/Taemin, PG, angst
Summary: Jinki wonders if it’s okay to be selfish, just this once.
As the leader, Jinki has learned to give up a lot of things.
Some of them are petty sacrifices, like Jonghyun’s obedience whenever Jinki tries and fails to haul him out of bed on a schedule-filled morning, or the last fried chicken leg on the dinner plate that Jinki really wants but Kibum demands he needs more. He has given up everything from first dibs to the shower after a grueling dance practice (Kibum and Jonghyun would take it in turns to claim that right) to his favorite spot on the living room couch (Minho has recently taken to stretching himself out on the entire couch as he plays his favorite soccer videogame on his PSP). Not to mention all the pocket money that he has spent on bribing the company van driver so that his group can go to the all-you-can-eat ice cream joint every once in a while (almost always, he also ends up picking up the entire tab, especially when Taemin smiles gratefully up at him, a smudge of melted chocolate ice cream dotting the corner of his lip).
And then there are the big sacrifices, like the freedom to speak and act unchecked or break down under pressure. The blissful ignorance of a young and idealistic entertainer who doesn’t have to deal with company politics. The child-like helplessness of one who is unable to protect anything, because if there is one thing that Jinki is willing to fight for, it is his bandmates’ right to act their own age, smiling and laughing without a care in the world, if only behind closed dormitory doors and away from the endless demands of managers and fans.
Sometimes the weight of being the leader really burns Jinki out. He never complains, of course, because it’s enough for him that Jonghyun and Kibum are always jokingly reminding him of his distinct lack of leader-like characteristics, all of which seem to involve superficial qualities such as the eloquence of a smooth talker or the ability not to trip spectacularly over perfectly horizontal surfaces. He takes all their jibes in stride, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling a little put out at their casual dismissal of any semblance of authority that he possesses.
That’s why when Jinki is stressed out, he doesn’t vent his feelings out on Jonghyun, who will only laugh heartily at his expense, then, upon realizing that Jinki is genuinely upset, will look sympathetically at him and shoo the other members away so they can leave Jinki alone for an hour or two. Jinki doesn’t think it is a good idea to seek comfort from Kibum, either, because where Jonghyun laughs, Kibum scoffs condescendingly and gives Jinki pep talks on why he is the leader for a reason. Jinki doesn’t even have to tell Minho anything, because Minho is the kind of freak who can assess your emotional state of being with just a single glance. Minho’s solution would be to give Jinki a consoling pat on the back and maybe offer to play soccer with him to get his mind off things.
In truth, Jinki appreciates that they all mean well. But when Jinki is stressed out, all he wants is to be hugged and told that everything is going to turn out okay, just like how he remembers his mother comforting him as a child. He wonders if the desire is due to the part of his brain that is constantly protesting against the unfair way that he was forced to grow up, so damn fast in so little time. It’s a pretty tall order to ask from his younger bandmates, and he’s never expected them to indulge him by acting like the grownup while he plays the role of the spoiled kid.
So it comes as a surprise to him one day, after a temper-testing argument with one of their managers, when Taemin quietly enters their bedroom and sits at the foot of Jinki’s bed, watching Jinki as he lies curled up in the fetal position, looking like he wants to stay that way forever.
“I thought Jonghyun told you to do your homework in the computer room,” Jinki reprimands him tiredly, not having the energy to inject the appropriate amount of sternness in his voice.
Taemin says nothing, only stares back at Jinki as if he is contemplating a matter of utmost importance. Then he crawls onto Jinki’s bed on all fours, pushes Jinki’s knees away from where they are tucked snugly underneath his chin. He wriggles his way under Jinki’s arm, face emerging inches from Jinki’s own, one wiry arm wrapping itself around Jinki’s neck, the other reaching up to stroke Jinki’s bed-mussed hair. And he smiles for all the world like the sun on a midsummer day, and Jinki feels the tight knot of anxiety unclenching in his gut, feels it evaporating into tears that threaten to leak out of the corners of his eyes. Taemin’s grin falters and the hand in Jinki’s hair slides down to pat him gently on the cheek, stopping only after Jinki offers him a weak smile in return.
It’s hard to blink back the tears, but somehow Jinki manages it - it may have something to do with the fingers that are now interlocking themselves with his, or the leg that is hoisted over his hip, weighing down on him like the limb of a particularly bony teddy bear. He doesn’t know how long he is going to hold out before his face crumples, so he buries his head into the crook of Taemin’s neck, like Taemin has done to him countless times before when he’s feeling homesick or in a choreographic slump. He kind of gets how appealing the gesture is now - Taemin smells like citrus soap and Kibum’s strawberry-scented shampoo, and his milk-white skin tickles Jinki’s nose as he attempts to snuggle closer.
Taemin squeezes his hand and Jinki’s eyes flutter closed, and for once his dreams aren’t riddled with lurking shadows and blank faces turned expectantly up at him.
-
Jinki has a headache.
In the kitchen, Jonghyun and Kibum are squabbling over the last cup of yoghurt in the fridge - it’s Jinki’s, actually, but he’s too tired to leave his sprawled-out position on the couch to tell them so, and it isn’t his favorite flavor, anyway. Minho wordlessly puts a bottle of aspirin and a glass of water on the coffee table before shuffling into the bedroom without a backwards glance.
Jinki hears Taemin’s voice over the racket that Jonghyun and Kibum are making, and he catches snatches of indistinct dialogue that ends in hushed silence. When he opens his eyes, Taemin is hovering above him, eating yoghurt.
“That’s mine, you know,” Jinki informs him with a half-hearted whine, budging up a space so that Taemin can sit down and pillow Jinki’s head in his lap.
“I know,” Taemin answers sweetly, undeterred from depositing ill-gotten yoghurt scoops into his mouth. “Want some, hyung?”
“Where’d those two go?” Jinki asks, dutifully opening his mouth as Taemin spoon-feeds him.
Taemin shrugs. “I told them to buy me ice cream,” he says, as if getting his hyungs to do his bidding were a normal occurrence. “I figured you wanted some peace and quiet.”
Jinki rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face gives him away. “Yeah, and you’re still hungry.” He laughs when Taemin swats at him with his free hand.
Later, Jinki puts the bottle of aspirin back in the medicine cabinet - he hadn’t needed it after all.
-
Everybody dotes on Taemin, Jinki notes. The extreme case is Kibum, whose affection for their maknae is just this side of smothering - Taemin doesn’t seem to mind too much, though, probably because his status as Kibum’s “son” grants him permanent immunity against any mishap that could possibly occur in the SHINee household. Kibum spoils Taemin rotten and always takes Taemin’s word over everyone else’s - even Jonghyun’s, a fact that Jonghyun lets slip only because he can say the same for Kibum.
In Jonghyun’s case, Taemin is the little brother he never had. Growing up with a noona was all well and good, but there is a lot more shopping and interest in makeup and clothes involved when you have a girl for a sibling (or Kibum for a best friend). Taemin is Jonghyun’s co-conspirator in pulling pranks on the other members, the eager listener who never tires of hearing Jonghyun talk about all things and sundry. Jonghyun is the only one who can bluntly give Taemin constructive criticism and not feel bad about it afterwards. It’s the reason why Taemin looks up to Jonghyun in a way that is different from the admiration he reserves for the rest of them, and it shows in the way his vocal control has vastly improved, in how he can sing and dance simultaneously with noticeably less effort than before.
Minho is a tricky one. Jinki suspects that Taemin confides in Minho the most, if the way that he always catches them talking in quiet tones off to a corner of the apartment is any indication. Minho isn’t exactly the chattiest of conversationalists, but there is something about Taemin that elicits more words from him in a single sitting than Jinki can coax out of him in an entire day, and Jinki doesn’t quite know how to feel about that.
Jinki doesn’t quite know how to feel about his sudden urge to scrutinize every detail of Taemin’s interactions with the rest of the band, for that matter. For what it is worth, he thinks that he treats Taemin the same as everyone else, because he is the leader and he’s pretty sure that unnecessary bias isn’t part of the job description.
Another part of his brain is telling him that the fact that he is thinking about Taemin at all, instead of memorizing the script for a variety show they’re filming three days from now, is unnecessary bias in itself.
Jinki chooses to ignore this.
-
If anything, it is Taemin who treats everybody equally. Jinki is by no means special, because any skinship they share is offset by how Taemin lets Kibum hang all over him on a regular basis, how he falls asleep on top of Jonghyun on winter nights when the heater is broken, how Minho gives him piggy-back rides to the kitchen when he is too groggy to get out of bed and eat breakfast.
“Are you okay, hyung? You’ve been spacing out for the past five minutes,” Jonghyun observes, half-irritated and half-concerned. They are at the dance studio, practicing their new song’s choreography, and it’s not exactly the best time to remain immobile while staring off into space.
“I want a hug,” Jinki answers automatically, then feels the mortification sinking in when Jonghyun shoots him a blank stare that could give Minho a run for his money. He half-expects Jonghyun to break out into a belting rendition of the Onew Sangtae song.
Instead, Jonghyun grins long and wide, says “okay,” and hugs him. Jinki is startled for a second, only now just registering the stickiness of Jonghyun’s sweaty arms and shoulders.
“Yah, you’re all gross! Get off me!” Jinki wriggles until Jonghyun’s arms literally slide off him. Jonghyun cackles like a maniac and runs off to terrorize Kibum.
It’s different, Jinki thinks unhappily, as he wipes off his arms with a clean towel. Grossness aside, he feels nothing when Jonghyun hugs him. But when Taemin does it - hell, when Taemin so much as beams in his general direction - Jinki feels warmth curling pleasantly in his insides, spiraling down to the tips of his toes; he feels light and giddy and on top of the world, as if all of his problems are just a distant memory of no particular consequence. Jinki wishes he were exaggerating even just a bit, but he isn’t - he wonders if he should be thinking that Taemin’s effect on him is like some sort of performance enhancer, some drug he’ll start relying on when things take a turn for the crappier.
Because it can’t possibly be the other option.
-
Jinki gets tired more easily these days. It probably has something to do with the extra effort he is investing in trying to channel Minho’s spirit whenever Taemin touches him - smile, remain silent, look bored, and lope quietly away, in that order. His stomach still does little flipflops when Taemin smiles back, but he thinks he’s getting better at quashing the feeling, rolling it into a tiny ball and shoving it into the deepest recesses of his mind.
“What is up with you?” Kibum demands, poking him hard in the stomach as he lies on his bed.
Jinki winces. “G’way Kibummie ‘m tired,” he mumbles, throwing an arm over his eyes for emphasis.
Kibum huffs, not moving from where he is sitting cross-legged on Jinki’s bed. “Taemin-goon told me you’ve been weird lately.”
Jinki tenses. “When haven’t I been weird for you guys?” he says with an awkward laugh. He rolls over on his side so his face won’t give him away.
He can practically sense Kibum’s eyes rolling. “Fine. Weirder than usual, then,” he amends.
Jinki bites his lip. “I really am just tired. And I’m worried about Jonghyun.”
There is a short pause. Jinki wants to kick himself for using Jonghyun’s sickness as an excuse to end the conversation, but he wasn’t lying, not really. He is worried sick about Jonghyun. It is half of the reason why he’s this tired at the moment. Supposedly it should be easier for him to take care of his group when they’re one member short, but Kibum’s constant mood swings, Minho’s brooding, and even Taemin’s lack of enthusiasm is more energy-draining than Jonghyun at his most high-maintenance.
Jinki could really use a hug from Taemin right now.
“Well, I’m worried too,” Kibum breaks the silence. “So are Minho and Taemin. But you’re the leader, Jinki-hyung. You’re not supposed to lock yourself in our room and mope until Jjong comes back. Go give Taeminnie a pep talk or something.”
Jinki runs a hand over his face and sighs. He sits up and ruffles Kibum’s hair affectionately, averting his gaze out of politeness when Kibum sniffles and rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Then Jinki stands up and walks out of the room. The TV is turned on - Minho looks up from his position on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. Jinki hesitates, then pats Minho on the head (it irks him somewhat that he doesn’t have to stoop to do it). Minho graces him with a small smile, then tilts his head in the direction of the computer room.
-
The faint glow of a cellphone screen is the only light in there when Jinki enters.
“Hey,” Taemin greets, eyes still trained on the cellphone in his hand. He’s sitting on the floor Indian-style, back against the wall.
“Hey. What’s up?” Jinki plops down beside him, caves into the urge to rest his head on Taemin’s shoulder. “I talked to Jonghyun’s umma already,” he adds, managing to read the text before Taemin flips his phone shut.
Taemin reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together - Jinki swallows hard, tries not to think about the ridiculous way his heartbeat has jumped several paces faster. “What did she say?”
“He’s going to be fine,” Jinki says, in his most confident tone, which is more than he can say for what Jonghyun’s umma sounded like when he had talked to her.
“Are you?” Taemin asks, in return.
Jinki tightens his grip on Taemin’s hand. He flashes his trademark toothy smile, but Taemin’s touch seems to be having the opposite effect on him today - he feels exhausted and weak, and the back of his eyes are stinging. It takes twice as much effort to pull up his facial muscles.
“It’s okay, hyung. You can even cry if you want to.” Taemin shifts so that he can wrap his other arm around Jinki’s shoulder in a loose hug, which tightens as Jinki abandons all pretense and clings to Taemin like a lifeline.
“Not crying,” Jinki mumbles, snuffling just a bit when Taemin rubs slow circles on his back. “I came here to comfort you, okay.”
Taemin laughs. “O-kay… I feel so much better now, hyung.”
Jinki slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re getting too cheeky for a maknae,” he complains. But he smiles.
“Yeah? Well for a leader, you sure are a crybaby!”
“You just said I could cry if I wanted to!”
“I was kidding. I got scared when you looked like you really would, though. I hugged you like this so I wouldn’t have to see your face.” Taemin is snickering into Jinki’s neck, now.
It’s tickling Jinki, and he pushes Taemin away with an effort. “You’re horrible,” he pretends to sulk, pouting. “Kibum would be so proud.”
Taemin’s eyes light up. “Wanna go pick on him next?” He disentangles himself from Jinki and scrambles up.
Jinki’s face falls. He kind of wants to keep Taemin to himself for a while more, but he knows that that isn’t a good idea. “Um. You go on ahead.”
“What’s wrong?” Taemin crouches beside him, eyes wide and concerned.
Jinki’s grateful that the lights are off so Taemin can’t see his flushed face. “Nothing. Really, go to Kibum. He’s probably sobbing into his pillow already, or.” He stares hard at the floor, trying not to let the neediness seep into his voice. He lets out a gasp of surprise when Taemin yanks hard on his shoulders and his face falls flat against Taemin’s chest.
“Hyung, you’re cute when you’re jealous,” Taemin teases, cradling Jinki’s head in his arms as he kneels down, sitting back on the soles of his feet.
Jinki’s cheeks glow a brighter red. “You’re - I’m not-” he sputters, struggling from Taemin’s headlock.
“I know,” Taemin whispers, patting Jinki’s hair. “I like you too, hyung.”
Jinki stops flailing and jerks back in surprise. “W-what?”
Taemin rolls his eyes and leans forward until Jinki can feel his breath against his lips. Jinki stays very still - he can feel Taemin’s hands clutching at the front of his shirt, and for all the bravado that the younger boy is putting up, the slight tremor of his clenched fists still alerts Jinki to his nervousness.
So it finally clicks in Jinki’s head that he should maybe unfreeze and take the lead. His hand’s shaking worse than Taemin’s, but he manages to rest it against Taemin’s neck without incident and push just so.
And then there are little flashes of light imploding at the back of his eyelids as Taemin’s mouth presses into his own - they start off at an awkward angle but Jinki tilts his head to fix it and the flashes of light grow bigger, brighter when he tugs on Taemin’s lower lip and Taemin lets out a tiny gasp. He leans back against the wall, pulling Taemin to him, and he thinks there’s nothing better than this, his heart beating so fast, Taemin’s pulse even faster underneath his fingers.
Brightness floods into the room for real, and it takes a second for Jinki to realize that someone has thrown the light switch on. It takes another second for Taemin to pull away from him, albeit a bit reluctantly, to glance over at the newcomer.
“What the hell.” Kibum stands slack-jawed in the doorway.
“Uh. Kibum-ah,” Jinki says meekly. He doesn’t like the scary look on Kibum’s face, not at all. Taemin’s fingers detach from his shirt in favor of clutching tightly at his hand. Jinki notices, with morbid fascination, how Kibum’s furious gaze slips temporarily to this blatant display of unity before returning to its business of boring a hole in Jinki’s stricken face.
Taemin decides to break the crackling silence. “Kibum-hyung, I-”
“Go to the bedroom, Taemin-ah.”
“But-”
“Now.”
Taemin gulps and shoots Jinki an apologetic look before scampering to his feet and trudging out of the room, glancing worriedly over his shoulder.
Jinki stands up too, bracing himself as Kibum stalks toward him and grabs a fistful of his shirt. Kibum’s eyes are the darkest that Jinki has ever seen them, and it’s all that Jinki can do to keep himself from looking away. Kibum’s next words are issued in a livid hiss. “What were you thinking?”
“I-”
“Hyung, you can’t.”
“I know.”
“You will get into so much trouble for-”
“I know,” Jinki repeats, looking thoroughly miserable.
Kibum’s glare softens. “This is killing you, isn’t it.”
Jinki lets out a sigh of frustration. “I tried to stop. I really did.”
Kibum stares at him for a long moment, then releases him. He runs a hand through his hair and suddenly looks very, very tired. “I knew something like this was bound to happen. But I never expected-god, Taemin, hyung…”
Jinki’s chest tightens. “I didn’t - I can’t choose who to - what do you want me to do?” He hates how angry and desperate he sounds, but he can’t help thinking how cruel and unfair the situation is. How he gave up so damn much and how he found the one thing that makes him so happy he cannot bear to throw it away, how he finally has it in his grasp only to be told that it can’t ever be his.
Kibum flinches but stands his ground. “You said it yourself. You know the rules better than any of us. Please, hyung. You have to make Taemin understand at least that much.”
Jinki’s hands clench into fists. He had known all along, anyway. He is the leader, and there is still an endless list of things for him to sacrifice for the greater good of the group. There are so many things that he is never meant to have…and he’s sick of it.
“Do you really want this?” Kibum asks.
Jinki only smiles bitterly and turns away.
-
Jinki skips dinner. He’s gone back to lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to focus on the rumbling of his stomach instead of the sound of his already-chipped heart shattering into ever-tinier pieces that are just waiting to be snatched away and discarded until he has nothing left for himself.
He can hear the other three talking outside the door; Kibum’s voice is distinct in its sharpness, and Jinki recognizes Minho’s calm baritone. Taemin’s tone is nothing short of argumentative. Occasionally, their muffled dialogue is punctuated by the shrill tune of the Abracadabra intro, which is the current ringtone of Kibum’s phone, and Jinki suspects that even Jonghyun is contributing to the discussion from a hospital bed somewhere far away.
Jinki shuts his eyes tight and buries his head deeper into his pillow, willing the voices and the cellphone beeps to go away. There’s a different voice echoing in his head, repeating words he heard only hours ago. “But you’re the leader, Jinki-hyung. You’re not supposed to lock yourself in our room and mope…”
He doesn’t feel much like leading right now. And Kibum can say whatever he wants, but giving Taemin a proper explanation is not something that Jinki is going to be an active participant of. They seem to be handling it well enough on their own, and Jinki figures that they ought to grant him at least this, one moment of obstinacy and self-centeredness in exchange for all the times he had shut an eye to their defiance in the past.
His back is to the door, so he doesn’t need to hide his face when it opens with a loud creak. He wonders with trepidation if Kibum and Minho are going to ambush him, knock sense into him until it rattles against all the shards of his heart and chases them clean out the open window. But the echo of steps that head for his bed are lighter than Minho’s, more hurried than Kibum’s, and it amazes Jinki how fast the smile spreads onto his face when he feels a weight settling on the left side of his bed, feels familiar fingers working their way into his.
In the dark, Taemin’s eyes twinkle like countryside stars, and Jinki thinks he can keep going forever, as long as Taemin smiles the way he does, lights up and shines in a way that makes Jinki’s heart ache so much he never wants it to stop. This, only this. The one thing he refuses to give up.
And then Kibum is throwing the light switch on again, ruining the moment with his obnoxiously loud voice. “I wasn’t done talking yet, Taemin-ah-oh.”
Jinki sighs and lays his head on Taemin’s lap as he watches Kibum and Minho making themselves comfortable on Taemin’s bed. His eyes dart apprehensively up at Taemin, but Taemin just shrugs and gives his fingers a light squeeze. It’s enough reassurance for Jinki.
Kibum rolls his eyes, apparently untouched by the moment. “So,” he says. “Jjong and Minho and I have decided that we will allow this…thing…to continue, even if you two are going to get hell for it if you get caught, which you won’t because we swore Taeminnie that we would protect him from all the evils of the world-”
“I feel so loved,” Jinki mutters, and Taemin gives him a sympathetic pat on the forehead.
“Shut up and bask in our unconditional benevolence, you ingrate,” Kibum retorts airily, ignoring Jinki’s sniff of disbelief. “As I was saying-”
“Hyung, we just want you to be happy,” Minho cuts in. “You’ve done so much for us, and you’ve never expected anything in return. So we decided that it’s our turn to do something for you-”
“Yah, stop flattering him or he’ll start getting ideas.” Kibum nudges Minho on the shoulder. “Oh, by the way, Jjong had a say in this, too.” He shoves his cellphone in Jinki’s face.
From: Bling Bling Jjong
7:03pm
---------------------------------------------------------
KE KE JINKI HYUNG YOU PEDOPHILE ˛
Kibum will kill you for corrupting our maknae
I hate you for having fun without me >:c
No I’m just kidding I love you hyung ♥
But not like that or Taeminnie will get mad
I’m so bored here this sucks you better visit me
or I refuse to give you my blessing >:c
Jinki laughs, loud and unrestrained, and he’s just realized how exhilarating it is; he hasn’t laughed like this in ages and it’s as if a huge weight is lifted off of his shoulders. He’s laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes, and he can vaguely make out the voices of his dongsaengs above him.
“Are you sure about choosing Jinki-hyung, Taemin-ah? He’s weird and crazy and he’ll make a terrible daughter-in-law.”
“I like this part of Jinki-hyung too!”
“Hyung, stop laughing, you’re going to suffocate yourself.”
Jinki gasps and manages to pull himself up to a sitting position, still laughing. Kibum’s stare is reproachful, Minho’s mildly concerned - Jinki launches himself at them and wraps them up in a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers, then pulls back and beams. Kibum glares at him, but the tips of his ears are slowly turning pink. Minho just smiles back.
Taemin hugs Jinki from behind and rests his chin on the older boy’s shoulder, and Jinki can feel his heart-shards reassembling themselves into a discernible shape, melted back into a whole by the warmth curling in his insides and spreading down to the tips of his toes.
And he feels like he’s on top of the world.
random lulz extra
Someone’s phone is ringing.
“Taemin-ah, don’t answer it, we’re on in ten minutes,” Kibum says lazily as he flicks over the pages of a magazine.
“I wasn’t going to; it’s Jonghyun-hyung’s phone,” Taemin answers. He bites his lip and glances at the phone, which is still ringing persistently.
Kibum shuts his magazine. “Jjong, don’t even-”
“Hello? Oh, hey, Jinki-hyung! How’s it going?” Jonghyun pauses, then puts his phone in Taemin’s outstretched hand.
“You guys spoil him too much,” Kibum complains, hitting Jonghyun upside the head. Jonghyun yelps and darts to the mirror to check his hair. “How’s he supposed to recover when he’s ringing us up every other hour?”
Minho shrugs. “Leave him alone. He’s just worried about us.”
Kibum snorts and watches Taemin talking happily into the receiver, making wide, circular gestures with his arms that Jinki cannot see. “That idiot. He has no business fussing over other people when he should be worrying about himself.”
Taemin bounds over to him, puppy-dog eyes turned up full-blast. “Kibum-hyung, can we go visit Jinki-hyung after our performance?”
Kibum wavers, hugs Taemin tight, then shouts into the receiver still in Taemin’s hand, “NO YOU ARE NOT GIVING MY SON YOUR VIRUS. GO TO SLEEP YOU IDIOT LEADER.” He calmly plucks the phone from Taemin, ends the call, and deposits the phone on the dressing table.
“You tried,” Jonghyun comforts a crestfallen Taemin. The stage manager pops her head into the room and tells them to stand by, and Minho wraps an arm around Taemin, steering him out of the room.
(half an hour later)
From: Jinki-Onew-Dubu
4:48pm
---------------------------------------------------------
I visited you when you were sick :c
So you have to visit me too Jonghyun-ah
It’s only polite
Thanks for taking care of them for me~
From: Leader Onew
4:50pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Kibummie! I’m sorry! Don’t be mad at me T_T
I’m resting a lot! I slept for 6 hours today
I’ll sleep even longer tonight
Promise you’ll look after Taeminnie, okay? :3
From: Lee Jinki
4:52pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Minho-yah, I know you listen to me, so
VISIT ME VISIT ME VISIT MEEEEEEE T_T
But only if you have free time after schedule
Please keep your childish hyungs in check
I’m counting on you! Thanks!
From: Jinki-hyung <3
4:53pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Don’t worry, I am still alive!
I miss you :’c
I love you so much ♥ ke ke ke
~chu!
There’s a moment of silence, then the sound of several flip phones snapping shut.
A sigh.
“Fine. Someone call the driver, we’re going to Jinki-hyung’s.”
Unbeta-ed | First SHINee / kpop fic in general | Concrit appreciated ♥