Dishes, Suitcases (Minho/Key)
Dishes, Suitcases
Minho/Key
8D ....there's no excuse. I like this pairing. ETA: Please note I made some changes to honorifics. Thanks to everyone who pointed out my mistakes! :)
When SHINee comes to a halt, Minho has trouble leaving.
dishes, suitcases
I can't keep my eyes off of you
There's something about you now
I can't quite figure out.
Lifehouse; You & Me
It happens because everyone has to grow up, learn to dream different dreams. It was Jonghyun who unexpectedly raised the idea, and once the suggestion manifested in their heads, even in their friendships, possibilities ran through all of them like poison. The contract came to a halt, and so did they. At least we’ll go out with a bang and stuff, Taemin said, instead of fading away just like that. People will remember us. And people do. It was the biggest goodbye concert Korea has ever seen.
Kibum is the one who insists on keeping the apartment, because he’s an entitled brat even to the finish (but don’t tell him I said that, Jonghyun mutters to Minho). He keeps the windows and doors open on the day they leave, shouting at Jinki for being an idiot and stacking a whole box of shoes over the carton of fragile items, does he want to die. Taemin cheerfully pulls his suitcases to the living room, and Minho thinks that for once the boy looks something like his age, in a dusty oversized shirt and worn-out skinnies, his hair an unstyled mess over his forehead. Jonghyun and Kibum shriek at each other for a good part of their goodbye, and then Minho watches as Jonghyun finally gives in and bawls. “I change my mind,” he wails. “Kibum-ah.”
“You moron,” Kibum snaps, one arm filled with Jonghyun and the other holding onto the mugs he's clearing from the counter. “Pull yourself together, for goodness sakes. And didn’t we agree that this was for the best?”
“Why did I think it’d be a good idea,” Jonghyun says miserably, and Kibum sighs in defeat and puts down the mugs, patting Jonghyun hard on the back. Jinki floats about behind them, hands on both their shoulders before Kibum opens up the embrace to include their lost-looking leader -
“No more being idiots,” Kibum says sternly, even if Minho hears the slight tremble in his voice - “We’re doing this because it’s good for us. Think about Taemin, he’ll finally get to have a normal life in school - oh Taemin.”
Because Taemin is buckling in tears, too, and Minho reaches forward to hold their maknae. Kibum drops the other two like hot potatoes and closes in to hug the youngest - he’s always been Kibum’s favourite, Minho knows, even if Kibum doesn’t always show it. “Idiot,” Kibum mumbles. “Idiot. You guys were the ones who wanted this.”
“No,” Taemin chokes out, but he’s still crying into Kibum’s shoulder. “What would I do without you, Kibum-hyung. Jinki-hyung. Jonghyun-hyung. M-Minho-hyung - “
“Go to school,” Kibum says firmly, hands pressed against Taemin’s wet cheeks. “Listen to me. This is good for you. And if anyone bothers you, call any of us. We’ll fly over and kill them.”
“I-I’ll bury the bodies,” Jinki hiccups, and they all start laughing amidst their wet eyes and thick voices. Minho squeezes Jinki’s hand, and Jinki looks up and beams, his affection clumsy but so sincere it aches Minho. “Take care of yourself,” he says shakily, trying to keep his voice strong. “And Kibum too. Okay?”
Minho glances over at Taemin and Jonghyun sobbing into Kibum’s shoulders. “Don’t be stupid,” Kibum is saying. “You’re being ridiculous now.” And yet Minho doesn’t miss the whiteness of the latter’s knuckles as he holds fast to the other two. As if letting go of them would mean losing them forever.
“I will,” Minho says at last. Jinki smiles, as vibrant as ever despite his tears.
Jonghyun moves into his own space downtown a twenty-minute drive away, and after Jinki and Taemin say their goodbyes they are flying to Japan and England respectively to continue their studies in established universities. “It’s probably good for them,” Kibum tells Minho after they leave, turning away to clear the kitchen counter of the five mugs that sit there - “they need the exposure. Maybe Jinki won’t be such a doof when he comes back. And Taemin will make some actual friends. When are you leaving?”
The apartment feels hollow without the presence of three more bodies. Jonghyun doesn’t sing in the shower, Jinki doesn’t break something in the kitchen, Taemin isn’t blasting music he can dance to. The silence is probably what makes Kibum talk, because Minho’s never been close to Kibum and they’ve never talked-talked. Minho’s more used to the other boy chiding the others, be it for their clumsiness or something else.
Kibum’s always left Minho alone.
“Jjong’s going to be busy with his solo album, you know,” Kibum is saying from the kitchen, dishes hitting the bottom of the sink as the water runs over his hands. “Maybe he'll finally write a song that doesn’t suck. And when he asks to feature me in one of his tracks, I’m going to turn him down.”
Minho leans by the kitchen counter and watches Kibum scrub at the glass, so hard that he may wear the shine out of its surface. Minho moves forward so that he meets Kibum’s back, watches the evening sunlight fade into the strands of Kibum’s hair. “I’ll do it,” he says. “Kibum.”
“This is my house,” Kibum snaps, keeping his eyes trained on the dishes even as Minho takes his hand and moves it. “You should leave.”
“I haven’t packed,” Minho says.
Kibum lets go of the sponge. It floats in the sink among the soapsuds of five mugs. Minho shuts the tap and then there is only silence in between drips of water.
“Feel free to go anytime,” Kibum says.
They’d all agreed that it wouldn’t last forever, this separation. We need this, Jonghyun said, you’ll see. It’s better for us in the long run. We’ll come back bigger and better. Minho thinks that perhaps too many nights had been spent forgetting to eat, too little time given to the books that Taemin bought from their travels, all of the hardcovers collecting dust in the corner of their room. Now’s a good time as any, Jinki told them, even with the hesitation in his eyes - the fans will understand. Minho is sure they do, even though he’s not sure if this means he should pack up and leave, too.
He’s always been slow at such things; organizing toiletries, folding the clothes, arranging personal items. The suitcase lies there on Jinki’s bed, in between their bunks, and Minho thinks maybe he won’t finish packing today. He gazes up at the familiar cityscape outside of the window and wonders where else he can go.
He hears Kibum switch off the lights outside, then he stumbles about in the darkness and into the room. Minho watches as Kibum steps over Jinki’s bed and his suitcase, hissing quietly when his foot hits the side of the bunk. “Gets me every time,” he mutters. A pause, then he says, “maybe I should take Taemin’s bed. I always wanted the lower bunk.”
“I didn’t know that,” Minho says. His head finds a pillow and he shifts to his side, watches Kibum settle into Taemin’s bed across from him. The city lights reflect in Kibum’s eyes, throws shadows across his high cheekbones.
“Well. Guess I never told you.” Kibum rests on his side and they look at each other. “Why are you so slow at packing? You’re useless without Jinki.”
Minho sort of shrugs. “Maybe tomorrow.” A pause. “If that’s okay.”
“Up to you,” Kibum mumbles, his voice muffled now. Minho listens to Kibum’s breathing even out, and then there’s that familiar silence between them once more as sleep lulls them in.
Kibum makes them breakfast most days and washes the dishes after that. They spend their time quietly, Kibum stuck on his headphones and Minho watching television with the volume down. Minho likes the stillness of their new lives for most part; as much as he loves singing and dancing, the hectic schedule of their days as a group was enough to put him in a daze. This is better, he tells himself. Muted variety programs and Kibum talking once in awhile, bitching about the weather or about Jonghyun. Kibum doesn’t say it, but Minho knows he misses his best friend. Kibum prints out photos of Jinki’s embarrassed laugh and Taemin’s crescent-eyed smiles and places them on the dresser.
Kibum leans by the door frame as Minho returns to packing his suitcase one evening. “Where are you going, though?” he asks, fingers clasped over the warmth of his mug. “Never heard you talk about it.”
Minho shrugs. “Haven’t thought about it.” He looks at Kibum, with his pursed lips and perfectly groomed hair. “You look like you’re going somewhere.”
Kibum lets out a short laugh. “Me? Where can I go?”
Minho thinks about it. “You could come with me.”
The other boy waves a dismissive hand. “I’ll pass. Awkward.”
The familiar honesty makes Minho smile. He dusts off his pants and stands up, stepping off Jinki’s bed. Kibum says, “Since you’re still here, you could help with more of the housework, you know. I can’t be doing this for two people.”
“But you look good when you do the housework,” Minho protests innocently. Kibum gives him a disbelieving huff and kicks him on the butt. Minho almost sprawls over and onto the floor, but the quirk in Kibum’s lips is worth it.
Taemin calls a week in. “It’s very exciting,” he says cheerily through the speakerphone. “The people here are so nice.”
Kibum is leaning so far out the bed that Minho thinks he may just fall right off of it. “So you doing okay? Nobody bullying you?”
“Not at all,” Taemin replies, and they both hear the shouting conversations in the background static. “Oh, um, I have some friends over right now. It’s funny, they’re trying to learn Korean but they’re really bad at it - “ they hear a shuffling, and then Taemin’s voice comes through once more. “Sorry, they were going a little crazy. Jinki-hyung called me the other day, by the way.”
“How’s he doing?” Kibum asks savagely. “The bastard never called us.”
“Oh, he’s busy settling in, hyung. He’s made a few friends already, so don’t worry about him.” Taemin kind of laughs. “...though he’s forgotten to pack the SHINee CDs so he’s asking if you can send some over, we’re really expensive in Japan.”
“Once an idiot, always an idiot,” Kibum mutters.
They hang up with Taemin promising to take care of himself, and to send them emails with pictures soon. Kibum flops over and rests his head on Minho’s lap. “Maknae doesn’t need us anymore, Minho-ah,” he announces with a dramatic sigh.
Minho tugs gently at a lock of auburn hair, and Kibum gives him a look. “Not the hair,” he gripes, elbowing Minho’s stomach. “I’m glad for him, okay. Whatever. His new friends can’t replace us.”
Minho doesn’t know how to respond to this, so after a moment he says, “We’re Shining SHINee.”
Kibum blinks at him before breaking into a hearty chuckle. “You’re so lame,” he says in English, but Minho doesn’t miss the hope in his voice. Then in Korean - “You going to mop the floor now?”
Minho pushes Kibum off his lap. Kibum yells, “Yah, yah! This is my house!” and throws a pillow at his face. Minho pokes his side, and Kibum laughs, his head thrown back against the sunset light and the sight stills the breath in Minho’s chest. Kibum smacks him up the back of his head for spacing out. Minho gives up then and gets the mop.
Jonghyun visits eventually, hands taken up by bags of food for them. “I brought homemade kimchi,” he says brightly. “I took the time to do this, appreciate and worship.”
“Please get out,” Kibum grouses, but accepts the food. “Thanks for not calling, not that I’ve been waiting or anything.”
Jonghyun tackles Kibum into the couch as Minho unpacks the plastic bags. “Aw, you miss me, you miss me,” he sings, and Kibum punches him on the shoulder and then they’re all over the floor. Minho only turns away, and his throat feels dry for some reason. He stills in the kitchen as the two murmur to each other in the living room.
“Where’s Minho going?” Jonghyun is saying. “Don’t think I heard him say anything about it.”
“Don’t know.” Minho can picture Kibum’s indifferent expression, a sigh caught in his words. “Didn’t mention anything. He’s still packing, if you can believe it. How much is there to stuff in a suitcase?”
“Oh.” A thoughtful pause. “Because Kibum-ah. You could move in with me if you want. I've talked to management about it. They’re not against it or anything.”
Minho sets down the tub of kimchi and stares down at the wooden counter. His own mug sits there with Kibum’s, chocolate stains dry on top of the table surface. He picks the mugs up and puts them at the bottom of the sink, lets the sound of running water drown out his surroundings. He doesn’t hear Kibum respond to Jonghyun.
They have their first argument a few days later, when Minho forgets to tell Kibum he’s going out for awhile. He comes home to find Kibum on the couch, arms folded and fuming. “Where did you go?” he snaps, when Minho steps through the door. “I woke up and you weren’t here, but your stupid suitcase wasn’t even done packing. Didn’t even leave a note - “
“I’m sorry,” Minho says, but this seems to anger Kibum even more, and he grabs the flyers that Minho is holding.
“What’s this, going on a holiday?” Kibum’s tone drips with sarcasm, brochures of sandy beaches and exotic architecture now strewn across the coffee table. “Fantastic. Next time, give me a heads up so I won’t make your breakfast. Asshole.”
The sharpness in Kibum’s voice sets something off in Minho. He stares at his bandmate - feisty, sharp-tongued Kibum, and he wonders why on earth he’s making such a big deal out of this. “I’m only doing this because you’re moving in with Jonghyun-hyung,” he says, and his voice cracks a little but Minho keeps his composure as the redness fills Kibum’s cheeks. “It’s good, isn’t it? That way you won’t be lonely.”
The silence between them is so thick that Minho can feel it press into his skin. Kibum only glares at Minho and for a moment neither of them speak.
“If you were staying just to keep me company,” he says finally, “then don’t bother.”
And he turns his back on Minho and heads into their room, slamming the door behind him.
When Kibum storms out later that evening, Minho finds his own suitcase neatly packed on Jinki’s bed.
It’s times like these that Minho misses their dorky, diplomatic leader. He’s not supposed to be crying about this, he tells himself. It’s ridiculous. He’s never gotten into a fight with Kibum before - they’ve never been close enough for one, he reminds himself. Kibum’s screamed at Jonghyun and Jinki enough, but he’s never gotten worked up with Minho.
He takes out his cellphone and looks at Jinki’s number.
Got into a fight with Kibum.
The leader's reply comes immediately. Very normal. Though maybe not for you yet. ^^
Minho has to smile at Jinki’s somewhat nonchalant response. What do I do?
He can almost feel Jinki patting him on the back, the same way he’s always done when Minho messes up in a performance. He’ll come around, Minho-ah, says the text message. He always does.
He doesn’t remember what happens next, only that he opens his eyes in the darkness and hears the padding of feet on the floor, the familiar creaking of springs in Jinki’s bed, the quiet shift of his suitcase to a side. Kibum slips in beside him, his nose in Minho’s shoulder.
“I always wanted this bed,” he complains under his breath, tugging almost painfully at a lock of Minho’s hair. “Jerk.”
“Where did you go?” Minho says softly. He feels Kibum move in a little bit closer, his fingers finding Minho’s.
“Hung out with Jjong,” Kibum says, sleep creeping into his voice. “Hate his apartment. Small. Like a crab hole. And I figured this is my place, can’t let you chase me out. So I came back.” Minho feels Kibum playing with the hem of his shirt. “…Thought you left.”
Minho turns onto his other side. Kibum looks back at him, his eyes bright despite the tired slack of his body. Minho says, “This is my apartment too.”
Surprise flickers through Kibum’s face, and Minho closes his eyes. “I have the keys,” he says quietly. “So you can’t chase me out, either.”
He opens an eye to see Kibum watching him, the oddest expression on his face. Minho slips an arm over the older boy and tucks his head into Kibum’s shoulder.
“I unpack real fast,” he whispers.
“Good. Because there’re chores to be done.”
“You nag a lot.”
Kibum’s laughter thrums in his chest, the warmth of his hand spreading into Minho’s cheeks. “Be glad, okay,” he says, ducking his head a little. “It means I like you.”
It’s a sunny day in the winter holidays when Taemin comes through the door, snowflakes in his hair. Jinki follows, dragging his suitcase behind him. Jonghyun is waiting for them at the kitchen counter, headphones on as he bops his head to the beat. “Is Kibum-hyung shouting?” Taemin asks. Jinki blinks as Minho appears from the hallway with a mop, Kibum yakking away behind him.
“ - I told you, sweep before you mop, aish - “
“ - it’s not a big deal, Kibum-ah - “
“The hell it isn't - TAEMIN.”
Jinki stands there ignored for all of five minutes before Minho pulls the leader in his arms and holds him tight. Jinki gurgles a little, out of delight or suffocation Minho can’t quite tell. “Thanks for sending the CDs,” he says happily before lowering his voice. “You two okay?”
“Minho, did you make enough hot chocolate?” and Minho rolls his eyes as Kibum hustles over and wraps himself all over Jinki, who almost falls over from the weight. “Nghhh Kibum,” he gasps. “Can’t - breathe - “
“You deserve it for not calling enough, stop complaining.”
Taemin is already at the kitchen counter, hands clasped over his mug as he sips at the hot chocolate. “Ahhh,” he sighs. “I missed this. Ooh, Minho-hyung, did you make it?”
“Kibummie made me.”
Kibum narrows his eyes at Minho, but Minho grins back and the slight blush in Kibum’s cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Jonghyun, who only chuckles and nudges Jinki.
“No wonder Kibum doesn’t want to move in with me,” he deadpans.
Kibum snaps his gaze to Jonghyun, who reels back from alarm. “Your apartment is a hole,” he retorts. “You couldn’t pay me to move in there.”
“And it doesn’t have Minho in it,” Jonghyun says, holding up his hands. “I get it, I get it.”
Minho stifles his laugh as Kibum and Jonghyun wrestle each other onto the floor, the way they always do. He passes a mug of hot chocolate to Jinki, who’s almost glowing as he watches them. “Nice to see you two getting along,” he says proudly, clasping a hand on Minho's shoulder. “Told you he’d come around.”
Taemin puts on the headphones and starts to dance to it (“ahhh, Jonghyun-hyung, is this on your new album?”). Jinki breaks a plate while getting them cookies. Jonghyun gives them a live rendition of his upcoming single. Kibum orders Minho to wash the dishes.
“Why should I?” Minho protests, but Kibum grabs his collar and his lips press into Minho’s, so subtly that it could be mistaken for a whisper. Minho feels his breath catch, and he leans forward for more because that is hardly enough -
The corners of Kibum’s lips curl into a sly smile, and Minho thinks, oh shit, he is so whipped, so whipped. Jonghyun catches their moment and snickers; Jinki sets down his mug and covers his mouth to hide his chortle. Taemin stares at them, headphones still on, goes, “oh, oh. Oh.”
Minho ends up washing the dishes, Kibum’s kiss lingering in the curve of his smile. He reaches for the five mugs sitting there, chocolate stains all over the counter; the sight is familiar and it feels like nothing’s changed from a year ago. He glances up to see Jinki talking about his dating escapades (“what escapades,” Jonghyun demands, as Taemin laughs). Kibum is watching Minho, a smile flitting past his face before he turns back to Jinki. No, Minho corrects himself as his heart skips a beat - everything’s changed.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
Minho/Key
8D ....there's no excuse. I like this pairing. ETA: Please note I made some changes to honorifics. Thanks to everyone who pointed out my mistakes! :)
When SHINee comes to a halt, Minho has trouble leaving.
dishes, suitcases
I can't keep my eyes off of you
There's something about you now
I can't quite figure out.
Lifehouse; You & Me
It happens because everyone has to grow up, learn to dream different dreams. It was Jonghyun who unexpectedly raised the idea, and once the suggestion manifested in their heads, even in their friendships, possibilities ran through all of them like poison. The contract came to a halt, and so did they. At least we’ll go out with a bang and stuff, Taemin said, instead of fading away just like that. People will remember us. And people do. It was the biggest goodbye concert Korea has ever seen.
Kibum is the one who insists on keeping the apartment, because he’s an entitled brat even to the finish (but don’t tell him I said that, Jonghyun mutters to Minho). He keeps the windows and doors open on the day they leave, shouting at Jinki for being an idiot and stacking a whole box of shoes over the carton of fragile items, does he want to die. Taemin cheerfully pulls his suitcases to the living room, and Minho thinks that for once the boy looks something like his age, in a dusty oversized shirt and worn-out skinnies, his hair an unstyled mess over his forehead. Jonghyun and Kibum shriek at each other for a good part of their goodbye, and then Minho watches as Jonghyun finally gives in and bawls. “I change my mind,” he wails. “Kibum-ah.”
“You moron,” Kibum snaps, one arm filled with Jonghyun and the other holding onto the mugs he's clearing from the counter. “Pull yourself together, for goodness sakes. And didn’t we agree that this was for the best?”
“Why did I think it’d be a good idea,” Jonghyun says miserably, and Kibum sighs in defeat and puts down the mugs, patting Jonghyun hard on the back. Jinki floats about behind them, hands on both their shoulders before Kibum opens up the embrace to include their lost-looking leader -
“No more being idiots,” Kibum says sternly, even if Minho hears the slight tremble in his voice - “We’re doing this because it’s good for us. Think about Taemin, he’ll finally get to have a normal life in school - oh Taemin.”
Because Taemin is buckling in tears, too, and Minho reaches forward to hold their maknae. Kibum drops the other two like hot potatoes and closes in to hug the youngest - he’s always been Kibum’s favourite, Minho knows, even if Kibum doesn’t always show it. “Idiot,” Kibum mumbles. “Idiot. You guys were the ones who wanted this.”
“No,” Taemin chokes out, but he’s still crying into Kibum’s shoulder. “What would I do without you, Kibum-hyung. Jinki-hyung. Jonghyun-hyung. M-Minho-hyung - “
“Go to school,” Kibum says firmly, hands pressed against Taemin’s wet cheeks. “Listen to me. This is good for you. And if anyone bothers you, call any of us. We’ll fly over and kill them.”
“I-I’ll bury the bodies,” Jinki hiccups, and they all start laughing amidst their wet eyes and thick voices. Minho squeezes Jinki’s hand, and Jinki looks up and beams, his affection clumsy but so sincere it aches Minho. “Take care of yourself,” he says shakily, trying to keep his voice strong. “And Kibum too. Okay?”
Minho glances over at Taemin and Jonghyun sobbing into Kibum’s shoulders. “Don’t be stupid,” Kibum is saying. “You’re being ridiculous now.” And yet Minho doesn’t miss the whiteness of the latter’s knuckles as he holds fast to the other two. As if letting go of them would mean losing them forever.
“I will,” Minho says at last. Jinki smiles, as vibrant as ever despite his tears.
Jonghyun moves into his own space downtown a twenty-minute drive away, and after Jinki and Taemin say their goodbyes they are flying to Japan and England respectively to continue their studies in established universities. “It’s probably good for them,” Kibum tells Minho after they leave, turning away to clear the kitchen counter of the five mugs that sit there - “they need the exposure. Maybe Jinki won’t be such a doof when he comes back. And Taemin will make some actual friends. When are you leaving?”
The apartment feels hollow without the presence of three more bodies. Jonghyun doesn’t sing in the shower, Jinki doesn’t break something in the kitchen, Taemin isn’t blasting music he can dance to. The silence is probably what makes Kibum talk, because Minho’s never been close to Kibum and they’ve never talked-talked. Minho’s more used to the other boy chiding the others, be it for their clumsiness or something else.
Kibum’s always left Minho alone.
“Jjong’s going to be busy with his solo album, you know,” Kibum is saying from the kitchen, dishes hitting the bottom of the sink as the water runs over his hands. “Maybe he'll finally write a song that doesn’t suck. And when he asks to feature me in one of his tracks, I’m going to turn him down.”
Minho leans by the kitchen counter and watches Kibum scrub at the glass, so hard that he may wear the shine out of its surface. Minho moves forward so that he meets Kibum’s back, watches the evening sunlight fade into the strands of Kibum’s hair. “I’ll do it,” he says. “Kibum.”
“This is my house,” Kibum snaps, keeping his eyes trained on the dishes even as Minho takes his hand and moves it. “You should leave.”
“I haven’t packed,” Minho says.
Kibum lets go of the sponge. It floats in the sink among the soapsuds of five mugs. Minho shuts the tap and then there is only silence in between drips of water.
“Feel free to go anytime,” Kibum says.
They’d all agreed that it wouldn’t last forever, this separation. We need this, Jonghyun said, you’ll see. It’s better for us in the long run. We’ll come back bigger and better. Minho thinks that perhaps too many nights had been spent forgetting to eat, too little time given to the books that Taemin bought from their travels, all of the hardcovers collecting dust in the corner of their room. Now’s a good time as any, Jinki told them, even with the hesitation in his eyes - the fans will understand. Minho is sure they do, even though he’s not sure if this means he should pack up and leave, too.
He’s always been slow at such things; organizing toiletries, folding the clothes, arranging personal items. The suitcase lies there on Jinki’s bed, in between their bunks, and Minho thinks maybe he won’t finish packing today. He gazes up at the familiar cityscape outside of the window and wonders where else he can go.
He hears Kibum switch off the lights outside, then he stumbles about in the darkness and into the room. Minho watches as Kibum steps over Jinki’s bed and his suitcase, hissing quietly when his foot hits the side of the bunk. “Gets me every time,” he mutters. A pause, then he says, “maybe I should take Taemin’s bed. I always wanted the lower bunk.”
“I didn’t know that,” Minho says. His head finds a pillow and he shifts to his side, watches Kibum settle into Taemin’s bed across from him. The city lights reflect in Kibum’s eyes, throws shadows across his high cheekbones.
“Well. Guess I never told you.” Kibum rests on his side and they look at each other. “Why are you so slow at packing? You’re useless without Jinki.”
Minho sort of shrugs. “Maybe tomorrow.” A pause. “If that’s okay.”
“Up to you,” Kibum mumbles, his voice muffled now. Minho listens to Kibum’s breathing even out, and then there’s that familiar silence between them once more as sleep lulls them in.
Kibum makes them breakfast most days and washes the dishes after that. They spend their time quietly, Kibum stuck on his headphones and Minho watching television with the volume down. Minho likes the stillness of their new lives for most part; as much as he loves singing and dancing, the hectic schedule of their days as a group was enough to put him in a daze. This is better, he tells himself. Muted variety programs and Kibum talking once in awhile, bitching about the weather or about Jonghyun. Kibum doesn’t say it, but Minho knows he misses his best friend. Kibum prints out photos of Jinki’s embarrassed laugh and Taemin’s crescent-eyed smiles and places them on the dresser.
Kibum leans by the door frame as Minho returns to packing his suitcase one evening. “Where are you going, though?” he asks, fingers clasped over the warmth of his mug. “Never heard you talk about it.”
Minho shrugs. “Haven’t thought about it.” He looks at Kibum, with his pursed lips and perfectly groomed hair. “You look like you’re going somewhere.”
Kibum lets out a short laugh. “Me? Where can I go?”
Minho thinks about it. “You could come with me.”
The other boy waves a dismissive hand. “I’ll pass. Awkward.”
The familiar honesty makes Minho smile. He dusts off his pants and stands up, stepping off Jinki’s bed. Kibum says, “Since you’re still here, you could help with more of the housework, you know. I can’t be doing this for two people.”
“But you look good when you do the housework,” Minho protests innocently. Kibum gives him a disbelieving huff and kicks him on the butt. Minho almost sprawls over and onto the floor, but the quirk in Kibum’s lips is worth it.
Taemin calls a week in. “It’s very exciting,” he says cheerily through the speakerphone. “The people here are so nice.”
Kibum is leaning so far out the bed that Minho thinks he may just fall right off of it. “So you doing okay? Nobody bullying you?”
“Not at all,” Taemin replies, and they both hear the shouting conversations in the background static. “Oh, um, I have some friends over right now. It’s funny, they’re trying to learn Korean but they’re really bad at it - “ they hear a shuffling, and then Taemin’s voice comes through once more. “Sorry, they were going a little crazy. Jinki-hyung called me the other day, by the way.”
“How’s he doing?” Kibum asks savagely. “The bastard never called us.”
“Oh, he’s busy settling in, hyung. He’s made a few friends already, so don’t worry about him.” Taemin kind of laughs. “...though he’s forgotten to pack the SHINee CDs so he’s asking if you can send some over, we’re really expensive in Japan.”
“Once an idiot, always an idiot,” Kibum mutters.
They hang up with Taemin promising to take care of himself, and to send them emails with pictures soon. Kibum flops over and rests his head on Minho’s lap. “Maknae doesn’t need us anymore, Minho-ah,” he announces with a dramatic sigh.
Minho tugs gently at a lock of auburn hair, and Kibum gives him a look. “Not the hair,” he gripes, elbowing Minho’s stomach. “I’m glad for him, okay. Whatever. His new friends can’t replace us.”
Minho doesn’t know how to respond to this, so after a moment he says, “We’re Shining SHINee.”
Kibum blinks at him before breaking into a hearty chuckle. “You’re so lame,” he says in English, but Minho doesn’t miss the hope in his voice. Then in Korean - “You going to mop the floor now?”
Minho pushes Kibum off his lap. Kibum yells, “Yah, yah! This is my house!” and throws a pillow at his face. Minho pokes his side, and Kibum laughs, his head thrown back against the sunset light and the sight stills the breath in Minho’s chest. Kibum smacks him up the back of his head for spacing out. Minho gives up then and gets the mop.
Jonghyun visits eventually, hands taken up by bags of food for them. “I brought homemade kimchi,” he says brightly. “I took the time to do this, appreciate and worship.”
“Please get out,” Kibum grouses, but accepts the food. “Thanks for not calling, not that I’ve been waiting or anything.”
Jonghyun tackles Kibum into the couch as Minho unpacks the plastic bags. “Aw, you miss me, you miss me,” he sings, and Kibum punches him on the shoulder and then they’re all over the floor. Minho only turns away, and his throat feels dry for some reason. He stills in the kitchen as the two murmur to each other in the living room.
“Where’s Minho going?” Jonghyun is saying. “Don’t think I heard him say anything about it.”
“Don’t know.” Minho can picture Kibum’s indifferent expression, a sigh caught in his words. “Didn’t mention anything. He’s still packing, if you can believe it. How much is there to stuff in a suitcase?”
“Oh.” A thoughtful pause. “Because Kibum-ah. You could move in with me if you want. I've talked to management about it. They’re not against it or anything.”
Minho sets down the tub of kimchi and stares down at the wooden counter. His own mug sits there with Kibum’s, chocolate stains dry on top of the table surface. He picks the mugs up and puts them at the bottom of the sink, lets the sound of running water drown out his surroundings. He doesn’t hear Kibum respond to Jonghyun.
They have their first argument a few days later, when Minho forgets to tell Kibum he’s going out for awhile. He comes home to find Kibum on the couch, arms folded and fuming. “Where did you go?” he snaps, when Minho steps through the door. “I woke up and you weren’t here, but your stupid suitcase wasn’t even done packing. Didn’t even leave a note - “
“I’m sorry,” Minho says, but this seems to anger Kibum even more, and he grabs the flyers that Minho is holding.
“What’s this, going on a holiday?” Kibum’s tone drips with sarcasm, brochures of sandy beaches and exotic architecture now strewn across the coffee table. “Fantastic. Next time, give me a heads up so I won’t make your breakfast. Asshole.”
The sharpness in Kibum’s voice sets something off in Minho. He stares at his bandmate - feisty, sharp-tongued Kibum, and he wonders why on earth he’s making such a big deal out of this. “I’m only doing this because you’re moving in with Jonghyun-hyung,” he says, and his voice cracks a little but Minho keeps his composure as the redness fills Kibum’s cheeks. “It’s good, isn’t it? That way you won’t be lonely.”
The silence between them is so thick that Minho can feel it press into his skin. Kibum only glares at Minho and for a moment neither of them speak.
“If you were staying just to keep me company,” he says finally, “then don’t bother.”
And he turns his back on Minho and heads into their room, slamming the door behind him.
When Kibum storms out later that evening, Minho finds his own suitcase neatly packed on Jinki’s bed.
It’s times like these that Minho misses their dorky, diplomatic leader. He’s not supposed to be crying about this, he tells himself. It’s ridiculous. He’s never gotten into a fight with Kibum before - they’ve never been close enough for one, he reminds himself. Kibum’s screamed at Jonghyun and Jinki enough, but he’s never gotten worked up with Minho.
He takes out his cellphone and looks at Jinki’s number.
Got into a fight with Kibum.
The leader's reply comes immediately. Very normal. Though maybe not for you yet. ^^
Minho has to smile at Jinki’s somewhat nonchalant response. What do I do?
He can almost feel Jinki patting him on the back, the same way he’s always done when Minho messes up in a performance. He’ll come around, Minho-ah, says the text message. He always does.
He doesn’t remember what happens next, only that he opens his eyes in the darkness and hears the padding of feet on the floor, the familiar creaking of springs in Jinki’s bed, the quiet shift of his suitcase to a side. Kibum slips in beside him, his nose in Minho’s shoulder.
“I always wanted this bed,” he complains under his breath, tugging almost painfully at a lock of Minho’s hair. “Jerk.”
“Where did you go?” Minho says softly. He feels Kibum move in a little bit closer, his fingers finding Minho’s.
“Hung out with Jjong,” Kibum says, sleep creeping into his voice. “Hate his apartment. Small. Like a crab hole. And I figured this is my place, can’t let you chase me out. So I came back.” Minho feels Kibum playing with the hem of his shirt. “…Thought you left.”
Minho turns onto his other side. Kibum looks back at him, his eyes bright despite the tired slack of his body. Minho says, “This is my apartment too.”
Surprise flickers through Kibum’s face, and Minho closes his eyes. “I have the keys,” he says quietly. “So you can’t chase me out, either.”
He opens an eye to see Kibum watching him, the oddest expression on his face. Minho slips an arm over the older boy and tucks his head into Kibum’s shoulder.
“I unpack real fast,” he whispers.
“Good. Because there’re chores to be done.”
“You nag a lot.”
Kibum’s laughter thrums in his chest, the warmth of his hand spreading into Minho’s cheeks. “Be glad, okay,” he says, ducking his head a little. “It means I like you.”
It’s a sunny day in the winter holidays when Taemin comes through the door, snowflakes in his hair. Jinki follows, dragging his suitcase behind him. Jonghyun is waiting for them at the kitchen counter, headphones on as he bops his head to the beat. “Is Kibum-hyung shouting?” Taemin asks. Jinki blinks as Minho appears from the hallway with a mop, Kibum yakking away behind him.
“ - I told you, sweep before you mop, aish - “
“ - it’s not a big deal, Kibum-ah - “
“The hell it isn't - TAEMIN.”
Jinki stands there ignored for all of five minutes before Minho pulls the leader in his arms and holds him tight. Jinki gurgles a little, out of delight or suffocation Minho can’t quite tell. “Thanks for sending the CDs,” he says happily before lowering his voice. “You two okay?”
“Minho, did you make enough hot chocolate?” and Minho rolls his eyes as Kibum hustles over and wraps himself all over Jinki, who almost falls over from the weight. “Nghhh Kibum,” he gasps. “Can’t - breathe - “
“You deserve it for not calling enough, stop complaining.”
Taemin is already at the kitchen counter, hands clasped over his mug as he sips at the hot chocolate. “Ahhh,” he sighs. “I missed this. Ooh, Minho-hyung, did you make it?”
“Kibummie made me.”
Kibum narrows his eyes at Minho, but Minho grins back and the slight blush in Kibum’s cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed by Jonghyun, who only chuckles and nudges Jinki.
“No wonder Kibum doesn’t want to move in with me,” he deadpans.
Kibum snaps his gaze to Jonghyun, who reels back from alarm. “Your apartment is a hole,” he retorts. “You couldn’t pay me to move in there.”
“And it doesn’t have Minho in it,” Jonghyun says, holding up his hands. “I get it, I get it.”
Minho stifles his laugh as Kibum and Jonghyun wrestle each other onto the floor, the way they always do. He passes a mug of hot chocolate to Jinki, who’s almost glowing as he watches them. “Nice to see you two getting along,” he says proudly, clasping a hand on Minho's shoulder. “Told you he’d come around.”
Taemin puts on the headphones and starts to dance to it (“ahhh, Jonghyun-hyung, is this on your new album?”). Jinki breaks a plate while getting them cookies. Jonghyun gives them a live rendition of his upcoming single. Kibum orders Minho to wash the dishes.
“Why should I?” Minho protests, but Kibum grabs his collar and his lips press into Minho’s, so subtly that it could be mistaken for a whisper. Minho feels his breath catch, and he leans forward for more because that is hardly enough -
The corners of Kibum’s lips curl into a sly smile, and Minho thinks, oh shit, he is so whipped, so whipped. Jonghyun catches their moment and snickers; Jinki sets down his mug and covers his mouth to hide his chortle. Taemin stares at them, headphones still on, goes, “oh, oh. Oh.”
Minho ends up washing the dishes, Kibum’s kiss lingering in the curve of his smile. He reaches for the five mugs sitting there, chocolate stains all over the counter; the sight is familiar and it feels like nothing’s changed from a year ago. He glances up to see Jinki talking about his dating escapades (“what escapades,” Jonghyun demands, as Taemin laughs). Kibum is watching Minho, a smile flitting past his face before he turns back to Jinki. No, Minho corrects himself as his heart skips a beat - everything’s changed.
He wouldn't have it any other way.