forever one

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – High Maintenance Extras 5/?

rabenhorst — Sat, 11 Jul 2015 16:33:58 GMT

Title: High Maintenance Extras 5/? (aka ficlets where their story goes on)
Author: fonulyn
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: brief mentions of others, OCs
Warnings: original character death (if you want a more specific warning, please message me and I’ll gladly explain!)
Wordcount: 3324
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Sometimes things go wrong for no apparent reason. All they can do is deal.
Comments: Another addition to the High Maintenance -verse. This has been brewing in the back of my mind for months, but I didn’t have the courage to write it before now. It needed a way out, though, so here we are :)

”Could you grab Seungwon’s toy bag, Minho?” Gwiboon calls, making sure to raise her voice so it carries all the way from the kitchen to the hall. “I’m almost done with the food, just give me a second to pack it!” she goes on after a beat, and hears Minho’s call of acknowledgement in a moment.

She smiles to herself as she piles the sandwiches into a lunchbox, making sure to double-check that they have enough juice and crackers for both the kids and the adults. They’ve been planning this trip for weeks, to spend some time with Jonghyun’s family, so the children can play together. Despite the age difference, the triplets absolutely adore Jonghyun’s twins, and they all seem to enjoy the time with each other.

It’s going to be a relief, too, as the twins are old enough to keep an eye on the triplets for at least some of the time, letting the adults have a bit of rest. Gwiboon hasn’t been in this good mood in ages, really, not with the pregnancy hormones hitting her with full force. It’s only one this time, that much they know for sure, but it seems that the new baby is single-handedly causing more moodswings than the triplets did together.

Humming a little, Gwiboon turns to fill a glass with water, remembering that she’s supposed to take the daily vitamins like she’s been instructed. She keeps experiencing discomfort, and absent-mindedly wonders if she should bring it up with the doctor during the next appointment, when she’s interrupted by a wave of agony.

With a breathless gasp she bends forward, her hands flying to the swell of her stomach. Another wave comes, a cramp that makes her whole body clench with its force, and she only manages another weak little sound as she grabs the counter for support with one hand, the other still on her belly. Distantly he hears someone speak, but can’t really focus on it. Tears are burning in the corners of her eyes, and she bites her lip harshly in an attempt to gain control over it.

That is when Hyoyoung suddenly appears, her eyes wide, her little mouth shaped into a shocked ‘O’. “Mommy?” she tries, weakly, clutching the gigantic pony plushie in her arms for comfort. She’s never seen her mother like this, and it must scare her, and it’s only with that thought in mind that Gwiboon manages some semblance of a smile.

“Ger daddy, sweetie, please,” she gasps out, miraculously managing to get the words out at least remotely clearly. “Quick!”

For the next few moments Gwiboon only focuses on breathing through the waves of cramps. It’s only when there’s a hand on her shoulder that she realizes Minho is there, looking at her worriedly from huge eyes.

“Minho,” she gasps, “something’s wrong.”

-

Gwiboon is in labour. It’s the first thing they tell her when she gets rushed into the hospital and examined. She’s in labour and she needs to give birth even though it’s not yet time. She keeps repeating the words in her mind, not yet not yet not yet not yet, but it’s not like she has any choice in the matter. Something has triggered the whole process and there’s no way to reverse it.

Somewhere halfway through the ordeal, she registers one of the nurses taking Minho to the side, talking to him in low and hushed voices. She wants to ask what’s going on, but she forgets it soon enough, as she focuses on pushing.

Their daughter enters the world at ten past eleven in the morning. She leaves it sixty-two minutes later.

-

The sheets are bundled around Gwiboon, pillows piled up against the headboard behind her to give her something to lean on as she half-sits-half-lies on the hospital bed. She’s a mess of sweat and tears and whatelse, but she refuses to get up to do something about it. All she can do is sit there, hands over her stomach, trying to comprehend what just went down.

Minho sits with her. They don’t speak at all at first, both of them too lost in thought. Minho only picks up the phone once, to make a couple of phone calls. First he calls Taeyeon to ask her if they can take care of the triplets for the whole night. Make it a sleepover. Minho isn’t going to leave his wife’s bedside tonight if he can help it. Then he calls his mother, and has to explain the situation to her, to ask her if she could come stay with them for a while, to take care of the kids while Gwiboon remains hospitalized.

At first Gwiboon stares at the clock on the wall, willing it to go faster. She tries to focus on every passing minute, so that the thoughts nagging in the back of her mind won’t take the forefront. She can still hear her mother’s voice in her head, exactly like it had been those months ago when they’d met on the parking lot.

“You do know you’re not supposed to lift things when you’re pregnant? Even your children.”

The words keep repeating in her mind, again and again.

Not supposed to lift things.

You do know.

Not supposed to.

She grips the sheets in her lap, knuckles white, and squeezes her eyes shut. It’s like the words have been burned on the insides of her eyelids, in bursts of colour that make her head spin. It’s overwhelming, and although she’s been eerily still up until now, after the whole ordeal, all it takes is a soft touch from Minho to send her into panic.

“I’m so sorry!” she cries as soon as Minho is back by her side, and throws herself into his arms. He might not want her anymore after this, he might never be able to forgive her, but she can’t hold on to the blame herself any longer. It’s been less than five hours, yet she’s already feeling it crushing her down.

Immediately Minho is hugging her tight, his palm in the back of her head to hold her close against his chest. He’s rocking her before he even makes a conscious decision to do it, the urge to protect so typical for him. “What are you talking about?” he asks, completely bewildered.

“I’m sorry,” Gwiboon whispers, between sobs she can’t bite back any longer. “I killed her. I killed our baby.”

“What!?” Minho starts. His hand stills in Gwiboon’s hair, and for a heart-shattering moment she’s sure that this is it, now she’ll never get to feel that again, as her grief-muddled mind is so lost in her own guilt. Minho pushes her a bit further, but only to be able to look her in the eye. “Stop saying things like that. You didn’t do this.”

“B-but I did,” she gasps, tears falling freely down her cheeks now. With choked voice she explains, tells him about how she kept picking the triplets up, kept carrying them and lifting them, although she wasn’t supposed to. She wasn’t supposed to. She keeps talking until her voice is barely hiccups and rambly words, and that’s when he pulls her back to his chest.

Minho hugs her tighter for a second, before speaking in what he hopes is a calm and convincing tone. “Listen to me now, Gwiboon. You didn’t cause this. There’s no way anyone could’ve predicted this. It’s not your fault.”

“But—“

“It’s not.”

All fight goes out of her at that, and she doesn’t try to argue. Minho knows that this isn’t likely it, even if he’s gotten through to her and managed to make her accept the thought. It’ll take a lot longer to wade through all the guilt and the misery buried inside. He’s not sure how they’ll work through it, but he knows they will. They’ll just need time to mourn.

So he keeps holding her, rocking her slowly, lets her cry, and she hugs him as if he might suddenly disappear. In all honesty, he’s not sure which of them needs the closeness more.

-

Neither of them is up for any visitors that day, and they spend the majority of it not even talking, only soaking up each other’s presence. In the evening Minho grabs something to eat from the cafeteria, but ends up eating the food brought to Gwiboon as she steals his sandwich. It’s surprisingly laid back, even though they both feel the tears brimming just below the surface.

The next morning Taeyeon appears with the triplets. Hyoyoung immediately makes a strangled little sound and darts across the hospital room to the bed, and is already struggling to climb up on it when Minho has mercy on her and lifts her to sit beside her mother. She wraps her chubby little arms around Gwiboon’s neck, hugging her a little too tight to be comfortable. Not that Gwiboon minds. She hugs her daughter back, hiding her struggle with tears into the little girl’s hair.

Meanwhile Soojin and Seungwon have approached as well, and Minho lifts both of them on the bed as well, taking the chair for himself. As soon as everyone’s been hugged thoroughly Hyoyoung still remains rooted in Gwiboon’s lap, while the other two take their places next to their mother.

“I just wanted to drop them off,” Taeyeon says and smiles softly. She approaches long enough to give both Minho and Gwiboon quick hugs, but doesn’t intend to stay longer. “I’m heading back to work, but if you need anything just give me a call. Or Jonghyun. He’s worried sick, too.”

“Thank you.” Gwiboon manages even a small smile, honestly grateful. Taeyeon only waves it aside and leaves, clearly a little shaken as well.

“Why are you crying?” Seungwon asks as soon as they’re alone, looking mournfully at the large tears on Gwiboon’s cheeks. He reaches out, like he wants to grab them or wipe them away, but can’t really reach far enough and thus settles for grabbing a fistful of the blanket over Gwiboon’s knees.

Gwiboon smiles through the tears. “Because I’m sad,” she answers truthfully. “But,” she goes on after a beat, ruffling the little boy’s hair and laughing as it makes him squirm a little, “I’m also happy that you’re all here with me.”

“Go on,” Soojin says firmly, nudging her brother’s side with her little elbow. It’s supposed to be an encouraging gesture, apparently, but it’s a little too harsh and Seungwon pushes her in retaliation. It makes Soojin huff and cross her arms, but she still looks at her brother insistently. “Give mommy another hug!”

Seungwon looks a little confused, but does as he’s told, climbing closer until he can hug her awkwardly around the waist. “Good,” Soojin says with a nod, and drops her voice into what’s probably supposed to be a conspiratorial whisper, “hugs make everything better!” She pats Gwiboon’s knee herself, trapped behind her brother so that she can’t go for a hug herself.

The words make Gwiboon laugh, and Minho is grinning from ear to ear as well. “You’re really good at this,” Minho says, and the children all beam proudly. “Mommy is a lot happier now that you’re here.”

“You need to hug her too!” Hyoyoung announces loudly. Graciously she leaves her place – for a moment at least – and allows Minho to lean in to hug his wife. As soon as it’s done she returns to her original place, like glued to her mother’s side. “We can have more hugs later,” she decides with a firm nod.

They do. They have a lot of hugs later. The children get tired though and Minho volunteers to take them home while going to pick up his mother from the train station. She’s promised to take care of the children for as long as is necessary. With a promise to come back later Minho leaves, taking the grumbling and complaining little ones with him.

Left alone to her devices makes Gwiboon feel like this is all unreal, none of it can be even happening. As long as she’s surrounded by the people she loves she’s hanging on fine, but now… The silence in the room is almost eerie, and she switches on the TV only to have some noise in the background. She can’t be alone with her own thoughts. Not quite yet.

-

Over the next few days things remain largely the same. Jinki visits a couple of times, always promising to always be in reach via a phone call if needed. The children visit every day, sometimes with Minho and sometimes with Minho’s mother, sometimes with both. They seem to be taking the healing hugs thing seriously, judging by the amount of time they spend clinging on to Gwiboon during their visits.

Gwiboon is promised she’ll be discharged in a week or so, definitely not much more, as soon as everything seems to be properly under control. As Minho has to go back to work, she’s left with a lot of time by herself, even with the visitors.

The silence never gets easier.

-

Gwiboon doesn’t really know how long she’s been alone, staring out of the window, before there’s a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she says, distractedly, as she’s not really expecting anyone at this time of the day. She doesn’t look at the door at first, but when a soft hello is spoken, her head snaps around to stare at the visitor.

Her mother.

“If you’re here for the I-told-you-so, you can leave now.” Gwiboon tries to keep her voice steady but she’s not entirely certain it works. She turns back to the curtains, keeps staring at them, watches the folds in the white fabric, how they move a little with the breeze. She’d been lucky to get such a nice room, she knows. She just doesn’t feel any of it.

There’s a slow movement in the corner of her eye, but Gwiboon stubbornly doesn’t look over even when there’s an additional weight on the edge of the mattress. She doesn’t pull away when her hand is taken, though, lets her mother’s thin fingers squeeze her own. It’s not comfort, not really, but it makes everything feel somehow more tangible.

They’ve never been a family that touches, really. She doesn’t even remember when her mother, or her father, would’ve last touched her with any degree of warmth. Compared to that the way her mother cradles her hand feels like something huge. She doesn’t know how to react, so she just sits there, afraid to shift for fear that the dormant emptiness within might flare up again.

“I’m not here to hurt you, Gwiboon,” Mrs Kim says slowly, words measured as they drop into the silence one by one. “I’m here because I know what you’re going through.”

The words stir something in Gwiboon’s chest and she turns to finally look at her mother. Mrs Kim has her head bowed, her eyes focused on their joined hands, as if she can find some strength there. She looks much more fragile than Gwiboon has ever seen her, her hair streaked with hints of grey, her shoulders hunched in a way they’ve never been.

“You weren’t my firstborn.”

It’s spoken softly, but it’s as if someone punched Gwiboon in the chest. She stares at her mother, quiet, waiting. It only takes a moment until Mrs Kim goes on.

“When I married your father I was… expecting. He didn’t know it first, but I confessed to him the day before the wedding and he,” her voice chokes up a little, and she needs to swallow before going on, “he didn’t care. He married me anyway. He said we’d make it work, that no one would need to know.”

This is all new information for Gwiboon but she doesn’t push. She waits.

“No one did get to know,” Mrs Kim says, finally looking up to meet her daughter’s gaze, “I miscarried five months after the wedding. We never spoke of it since.” She smiles, the twitch to her lips barely even there, and pats Gwiboon’s hand lightly. “I just thought you deserved to hear it. I know I’m not your first choice as a confidante now, maybe I never was. But I am here if you need me.”

Dumbly, Gwiboon nods. She doesn’t know what to say, how to react, so she doesn’t. It doesn’t seem to matter, as Mrs Kim has now said her piece and is already moving to stand up. She leans down to press her lips to Gwiboon’s forehead, in a wordless goodbye, and simply turns around to walk out of the room.

Gwiboon watches her back until the door swings shut.

-

It’s already dark outside when Minho comes to visit next. He doesn’t say anything in greeting, only smiles at Gwiboon from the doorway, before quickly crossing the room to sit beside her. It’s the best part of her day, really, when she gets to lean against him, his arms wrapped around her in a semblance of safety. She closes her eyes, buries her nose into Minho’s shirt and inhales slowly.

“They said you’ll be discharged tomorrow,” Minho says softly, his hand drawing circles on her back. “They couldn’t give me a time yet, but you can just call me. Jonghyun promised he’d hold up the business for me whenever I need to go.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding a little. She is ready to go home. As much as this is all new, confusing and painful, she misses her children and her home and her own bed. Maybe going back to the normal routines will help her to get a proper grasp of her life again. “How long is your mom staying?”

“As long as you need her, she says,” Minho answers, and presses his face into her hair for a second. “She said you should kick her out the second she becomes a nuisance, though. Until then you have free reign over bossing her around.”

The words make Gwiboon smile, and she chuckles softly. “Good to know that. I might not be fit enough to cook yet.” It’s a weak joke, but it makes them both smile regardless, and that’s about all they can manage right now. Gwiboon has heard of people that got ripped away from one another by a tragedy like this, but somewhere deep down she knows they’ll be fine. If anything, they’re leaning on each other a little more through this.

“Speaking of mothers,” she says after a pause. “Mine visited.”

Minho tenses palpably. “Oh?”

“She was…” Gwiboon searches for words, fingers splayed over Minho’s abdomen, absently toying with the thin shirt. “She was good, actually. Said she’d be there for me.”

A part of her knows it’s too little too late, and she knows it’s what Minho is also thinking. Yet another, far bigger, part of her still yearns to have some kind of connection with her only remaining parent, regardless of how feeble. She doesn’t see any heart-to-hearts in their immediate future, but maybe they can learn to navigate this one day. Maybe the children will get to have two grandmothers, after all.

“It’s… good,” Minho says, belatedly.

It sounds so hesitant that Gwiboon can’t help but chuckle. “It’s a step. It’s not like we’re going to have happy family dinners with her anytime soon but… I think I’d like to try. At least, you know, see where it leads.” It’s easier to think about fixing things with her mother than what just hit them, the past trauma scabbed over in a way the recent one hasn’t had the chance to yet.

There’ll be a time for that, too. Time to deal, time to process, time to heal.

“We can do that,” Minho says. He tightens his arm around her, hugging her a little closer. “We can definitely do that.”

She knows they can. Together. For every step of the way.

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…I’m sorry?

@DW.

[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 9/9

rabenhorst — Sat, 03 Jan 2015 13:49:58 GMT

Title: The Path Untraveled
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Other characters: side!Han Geng/Heechul, Ryeowook, Sungmin, Siwon, a lot of brief mentions of others (suju and shinee, mainly)
Warnings: (overall) blood and violence, hunting etc.
Wordcount: ~37k
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: For as long as Kyuhyun can remember life has been the same in their village. Yet when their monotonous life is disrupted, when another pack settles on their territory, Kyuhyun can’t help but be drawn to them. Drawn to one of them especially. (wolf shapeshifters!au)
Comments: Here we go, this is the end! :D I hope you’ve enjoyed this.
Previously; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

“Shadow people!”

Someone breaks the silence and after that it’s chaos. Siwon manages to raise his voice and make himself heard, and be begins to bark out commands to get them in at least some kind of a defensive formation. At the same time Sungmin takes it on himself to bring the children to safety, helping the older ones to gather the youngest. It’s obvious that everyone is scared, or at the very least agitated, but they do their best to function nevertheless.

At first they can’t really see anyone approach. There are a few blood-curdling screams like the first one, but there no sight of anything that’d be out of usual. It’s the sounds that are completely off. The forest is eerily silent, not a single bird singing, not a single leaf fluttering in the wind. It’s like the world is preparing for what is to come.

The last warning they get is another screech, this time right above them, and then something white dashes into the village square, not minding at all that it’s filled with people. Someone cries out loud, and within seconds half of the pack is already shifting into their wolf form in an attempt to better defend themselves.

Everything happens so fast that Kyuhyun’s first instinct is to shift as well, go help his friends the best he possibly can. The uncomfortable hint of pain that stabs him from the inside out makes him stop, though, and at first he doesn’t understand where the feeling comes from. Then he glances at Zhou Mi.

Zhou Mi is crouched down, curled up and trying to appear as small as he possibly can. His long arms are wrapped around his head in an attempt to somehow shield his ears, and he’s rocking back and forth on his spot. Now the pain makes sense, and immediately Kyuhyun kneels down next to him, carefully reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Zhou Mi? Where does it hurt?” Frantically he tries to check for wounds but there don’t seem to be any, at least ones that he could find. He can’t place any traces of the scent of blood either.

“It hurts,” Zhou Mi manages to breathe out, but he doesn’t get any further before his breath hitches in his throat and he makes a pained sort of a sound. It’s a high pitched whine, and Kyuhyun’s heart aches with it. Obviously Zhou Mi isn’t in any kind of a position to explain what’s going on, and the only thought that keeps circling in Kyuhyun’s mind is that he needs to get them to safety, he needs to make sure that Zhou Mi isn’t hurt physically on top of this.

It’s pure luck that Ryeowook spots them then, and stops to ask if they’re alright. “Is he hurt?” He asks, doing the exact same check Kyuhyun did just moments prior, trying to see if there’s blood or any visible injuries to treat. “What’s going on?”

“It’s in his head,” Kyuhyun says, unable to explain it any better. He glances up and the whole village square is still chaotic, people and wolves running to and fro, and in their midst there are currently two of the attackers. They’re taller than any of the pack, even taller than any person Kyuhyun has seen in his whole life. Their face is elongated into an exaggerated oval shape that ends in a sharp beak, and their arms do end in quite impressive claws. Their chest and back are feathery, and there are a bunch of feathers on the top of their leathery wings, along their arms, and Kyuhyun can’t help but curse himself that he didn’t warn his people when he found one of those.

It’s Ryeowook who pulls him back from his thoughts. “Let’s take him to the west side,” Ryeowook says, already gently trying to make Zhou Mi stand up. “The storages have thicker walls.”

Good thinking, Kyuhyun praises in his mind, but he doesn’t say any of it out loud. Instead he slides an arm around Zhou Mi’s back, under his armpits, and hoists him up. Zhou Mi barely walks on his own, so Kyuhyun ends up supporting most of his weight, while Ryeowook leads their way. It’s good to have him help, Kyuhyun thinks, as Ryeowook is good at spotting safe passages and small openings that he would’ve just ignored.

They manage to get out of the square easily enough, and the further they get into the village the more silent it gets. There are still distant sounds of the fight from the direction they came from, screams and roars, shrieks mixed in with growls and barks. It makes Kyuhyun even more anxious, but he can still feel the pain pulsing through the bond he shares with Zhou Mi and he can’t just abandon the other man now. Not like this.

Suddenly there’s a shriek much closer. Before Kyuhyun can react to that he gets a forceful blow straight in his face, a punch so strong that it nearly breaks his nose. Taken by surprise, he falls on his ass in the ground, along with Zhou Mi, and as he focuses on the attacker his blood runs cold in his veins.

The big reptilian bird is hovering above him, claws raised to strike, and he manages to roll to the side only in the nick of time. From the corner of his eyes he sees Ryeowook pull Zhou Mi to the side frantically, and his first thought is diversion. He needs to pull the creature’s attention to himself.

Kyuhyun roars, as loud as he possibly can, and allows the shift to ripple over him. He barely even notices the tinge of pain it causes this time, too overcome by agitation and adrenaline, and his palms are barely replaced by paws before he’s already jumping forward and into his attacker. He aims for the throat but misses by a good three inches, and the next thing he knows is that there’s something sharp sinking into his side, just below his ribs.

It probably hurts, but he doesn’t really know. There’s no time to focus on that.

Even though the creature is taller, Kyuhyun has the advantage of mass on his side, and he uses his considerable bulk to make them both fall on the ground. At first he manages to get his claws on the shadow creature, but it becomes apparent really soon that he isn’t going to win this fight on his own. He’s losing blood, how quickly he doesn’t know but the air is already heavy with the scent of it. That definitely can’t be a good sign. He feels the power lessen in his limbs as well, as it gets harder and harder to focus on every movement.

Suddenly, there’s a thumping noise and the creature screeches again. “Kyuhyun!” Ryeowook shouts, frantically gesturing towards the creature’s throat. He’s holding a spade that he must’ve grabbed from one of the sheds, and prepares to hit the bird’s head again.

It gives Kyuhyun just enough time to do one last leap. He gathers all the strength he can manage in his hind legs, jumping straight towards the creature. Thankfully, this time luck is on his side. His teeth sink into the soft skin and beyond it, until he tastes blood. He keeps biting, presses his paws against the creature’s chest and uses it for leverage, literally ripping their throat out.

The force of the movement sends him reeling backwards and he falls on the ground, the pain from his wounds finally exploding through him in one shocking second. He forces himself to keep his eyes open though, in case he gets attacked again, or even worse, in case Zhou Mi and Ryeowook get attacked.

Thankfully, nothing happens. The big bird is still standing, the white skin and feathers stained red and pink with the still flowing blood. It only takes a second before they collapse in a loud thump, and stay unmoving on the ground. Ryeowook takes a step in, as if to make sure they’re really dead, and before their eyes the creature begins to morph. The beak melts back into the face, feathers falling down on the ground, and bones readjusting into a completely different shape.

Eventually, there’s the bloodied body of a young woman lying on the ground at their feet. Her eyes are open as she continues to emptily stare into the darkening sky. The very sight makes Kyuhyun sick to his stomach, and Ryeowook doesn’t look any better, his face ashen.

Zhou Mi whines then, the sound ending in a faint sob, and that’s what makes the other two snap back into the moment. Kyuhyun lets the change ripple over him again, although this time it’s much more painful than what he’s used to. His clothes are ruined beyond recognition but it’s not like he doesn’t have more important things to focus on. He moves to help Zhou Mi up again, but Ryeowook beats him to it. “No, you’re hurt, Kyuhyun. Let me.”

There isn’t an ounce of fight left in Kyuhyun anymore so he just nods wordlessly. He’s not completely sure if he can manage to walk very far even on his own, so it’s for the best, even if a part of him is screaming in the back of his mind that he needs to help Zhou Mi.

Thankfully they’re not surprised again, at least not before they get into one of the storages carved inside of a tree trunk. It’s a small room, only enough to fit them all in, but it’s got a thick door that isn’t easy to get through and no windows, so they decide that it’s their best bet.

“Can you,” Kyuhyun manages to croak out as soon as they’ve barricaded the door to the best of their abilities. “Stay?”

Ryeowook smiles, but there’s no real joy in it. “How could I not?”

There’s sudden silence.

Zhou Mi opens his eyes wide, unable to first comprehend what’s changed. Then an intense wave of relief hits him, as he realizes what it is. The pain is gone. The sadness and the agony is gone, and in its place there’s nothing. It’s blissful silence, and although he can feel the worry emanating from someone close to him, along with throbbing pain, it’s still incredibly faint in comparison to what he’s just been forced through.

It takes him a moment to orientate himself, but then he finally manages to take in his surroundings. Ryeowook is looking at him, a small, hopeful smile dancing on his lips. “Are you alright? What happened to you there?” he asks, placing a soothing hand on Zhou Mi’s back. They’re sitting close together anyway, their knees brushing, and Zhou Mi is incredibly thankful for the contact. Without even thinking about it he falls forward, capturing Ryeowook in an embrace.

“I’m fine!” he says, the words turning into laughter at the end, just because he’s so relieved he cannot hold it in. “I’m fine now.”

“What was it?” Ryeowook asks again, hugging Zhou Mi back as tight as he can manage, as if they’ve both needed this for ages. They probably have, their nerves still frayed and on edge as they don’t know what’s going on outside their hideout.

“I don’t know,” Zhou Mi admits, “I think it was their feelings? It was… they were scared. Panicked. Desperate for something. I don’t know why, but they were so afraid. And their feelings… it’s not like ours. I can sense you like a faint ripple in the water, but they were like a storm. Or a waterfall!” He’s never really known how to explain his gift to others, but Ryeowook only nods, and he seems satisfied enough with the explanation. Confused, though, and sad, but he doesn’t ask for anything more.

It’s only then that Zhou Mi realizes that he can sense pain, and that it’s not his own. Instant wave of guilt splashes through him as he notices Kyuhyun on Ryeowook’s other side, lying on the ground completely still. He’s alive, Zhou Mi knows he would’ve noticed otherwise, but he’s completely out of it. “What happened to him!?” Zhou Mi scrambles to get past Ryeowook, kneeling down next to Kyuhyun as he carefully cups his cheek in his palm.

“Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine,” Ryeowook smiles. “He was going crazy with worry and I couldn’t risk him ripping his wounds open even more so I sedated him.”

“You what?” Zhou Mi looks up, surprised. Then he notices his friend is pointing at the small pouches that are lining the shelves in the room, and realizes they must be in the shed where all of the medicine is stored. It startles a laugh out of him, and relieved he sinks down to the ground again, sitting next to Kyuhyun. “Good. That’s good.” He traces the long cuts on Kyuhyun’s side with his gaze, acutely aware that those might leave scars. It’s not easy for their kind to scar, but with something as severe as this…

There’s clearly no immediate danger though, nothing that’d threaten Kyuhyun’s life. And right now, that’s what matters the most.

Eventually they emerge from their shelter and find out that the shadow people have all been killed. There were only seven of them, and the pack managed to overpower them with their sheer number. It’s a hollow victory though, and relief soon turns into grief as they notice that they’ve lost three of their own. Everyone else is fine, even if injured.

Already the following day they organize a funeral, a huge bonfire lighting up most of the village square as they follow the sacred rituals. Siwon prepares the bodies for the ceremony, and afterwards they only watch as the flames take care of the rest. No one speaks a word.

The bodies of the shadow people are buried in the forest, into deep graves so none of the animals can easily dig them up again. That’s all that’s spoken of them, as everyone seems dead set on never mentioning them anymore.

The village lives on. Yet everything is somehow muted.

“I’m sorry that I have to do this,” Siwon says, directing his words straight to Han Geng. They’re gathered in Siwon’s home, all of Han Geng’s pack along with Siwon, Sungmin, Ryeowook and Kyuhyun. It’s only been eight days since the battle took place, and no one has quite managed to settle it in their minds yet.

Han Geng nods. “It’s fine. We need to go forward anyway. The rest of us might be waiting.” He’s saying what everyone in the small pack is thinking, they’ve spent so much time here that they might’ve already missed their own pack, might’ve waited too long to never see them again.

“I’d offer you a place to stay until you’ve healed,” Siwon continues, glancing at Heechul’s bandaged leg and Jinki’s arm that’s still in a makeshift cast, “but some think you invited the shadow birds. I’m not sure if staying is a good option for you.”

Heechul snarls. “That’s absurd! How could we be responsible for that?”

“I know.” Siwon sighs. He obviously agrees with Heechul, judging by the frustration that is etched on his features, but he needs to do what’s best for his own people, and his hands are tied. “I promise you, no one will harm you as long as I give the orders here. But…”

Han Geng doesn’t let him finish. He places a placating hand on Heechul’s arm as he speaks. “But it’d be easier if we left.”

No one says anything to that. They all know it’s for the best. At this point, staying wouldn’t really gain them anything. Han Geng’s wounds might not have healed completely but he’s in a much better shape than he was when they were brought in, he can walk easily on his own and he can let the shift overcome him without fearing for the repercussions.

It’s time.

Zhou Mi has known to expect this, but at the same time hearing it, having it made concrete, makes his throat lace up. He wills himself to stay strong but a large part of him just feels like crying. It’s not only the melancholy he can sense from everyone around him, but it’s the fact that he knows this is where his journey changes. He can’t leave with his pack.

“I’m sorry,” Zhou Mi whispers, and everyone turns to look at him. He swallows the insistent need to cry, instead looking up and meeting Siwon’s gaze head on for a second, before politely bowing his head. “I can’t leave. I’m…” He glances at Kyuhyun, desperately searching for the words he wants to use, while none come. Letting his pack go on without him will tear him up inside, but leaving Kyuhyun… it’s simply not an option.

Kyuhyun steps forward, easily slips his fingers between Zhou Mi’s and gives his hand a squeeze. He looks up, and he doesn’t avert his gaze as it meets Siwon’s. “I ask for your permission to go with them.” He realizes that his words are met with surprised, stunned silence all around him, but he doesn’t let it bother him as he turns to look at Han Geng instead. “And I ask for your permission to join you.”

Han Geng glances at Siwon, who still has his eyes trained towards Kyuhyun. Eventually he speaks, and it’s only one word. “Why?”

Kyuhyun doesn’t even need to think of an answer. “He has to go. And I have to follow him.” It’s as simple as that.

Thankfully, it’s as simple to everyone else, as well. Siwon nods. “Okay.”

Zhou Mi all but throws himself into Kyuhyun’s embrace. If he sheds a tear in his shoulder, well, no one has to know.

The sky is dotted with stars. It almost feels like the world has opened up and expanded with the way they’re glowing, offering their light in the midst of the darkness. Kyuhyun’s breath fogs up as he exhales, and he’s momentarily distracted by the crunching of the leaves as they’re being approached. It’s only Siwon at first, but he’s soon joined by Sungmin and Ryeowook. Goodbyes have been shared already earlier during the feast, so everyone else stays away in respect.

“I hope we’ll meet again,” Siwon says with a soft smile, obviously sincere. “All the good luck for your journey.”

“Thank you.” Han Geng is the only one who speaks, but everyone else joins in the sentiment. They might’ve started off with problems but along with time, they’ve all gained valuable friends. Only time will tell if they really meet again, or if these goodbyes are final.

Nothing else is said, as the small pack shifts into their animal form, ready to start their journey. Ryeowook steps closer then, patting Kyuhyun’s head even though it earns him a playful snap of teeth. He’s smiling as he ties the sleigh on Kyuhyun’s back, and shows him a pouch the size of a man’s palm before hiding it amongst the supplies. “It’s just basic things. The ones you know how to use,” he whispers, patting Kyuhyun’s flank as he retreats. Meanwhile Sungmin has tied another sleigh to Donghae’s back, and they’re ready to take their leave.

They start off in a slow jog, and for the first few moments Kyuhyun keeps glancing back to the three figures standing at the edge of the forest, watching them go. There’s a lump in his throat as he has to leave the place that has been his home for all of his life, and for a second he doubts if he’s made the right decision.

Then Zhou Mi speeds up his steps and catches up with Kyuhyun. Sensing his melancholy he nudges the other wolf with his nose, huffing in what turns out to be a very comforting manner.

If Kyuhyun could, he would be smiling.

They speed up into a proper run as soon as they’re out of the thickest part of the forest. The ground is cold beneath their paws, a thin layer of snow covering the grass for as far as they can see. There’s a bird singing in the distance, another one soon joining in to the joyful tune. Kyuhyun can feel Zhou Mi’s presence right next to him even when he’s not looking, and with every step he takes he knows he’s on the right path.

The moon is full, and the sky is dotted with stars.

-

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This is it! I hope you’ve enjoyed this, it literally took me years to complete. I’d write a huge thank you note here, but I think I already covered all my bases in the first chapter. Still, I’m eternally grateful to everyone who’s supported me through this, and who has expressed interest in the fic! Thank you!

@DW.

[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 8/9

rabenhorst — Wed, 31 Dec 2014 09:25:25 GMT

Title: The Path Untraveled
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Other characters: side!Han Geng/Heechul, Ryeowook, Sungmin, Siwon, a lot of brief mentions of others (suju and shinee, mainly)
Warnings: (overall) blood and violence, hunting etc.
Wordcount: 4366 words for this part (~37k overall)
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: For as long as Kyuhyun can remember life has been the same in their village. Yet when their monotonous life is disrupted, when another pack settles on their territory, Kyuhyun can’t help but be drawn to them. Drawn to one of them especially. (wolf shapeshifters!au)
Comments: Happy new year! See you in 2015~
Previously; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Soon, it becomes impossible for Kyuhyun to ignore the restlessness that renders Zhou Mi barely able to keep still. They don’t have much time to share anymore, but it’s simply nothing they can change. When Zhou Mi comes back from the meeting with his pack they stay up practically all night, hardly speaking but not really able to rest either. Zhou Mi seems to be vibrating out of his skin with the excess frustration, and it keeps rubbing off on Kyuhyun as well.

It isn’t like Kyuhyun has endless patience either, a difficult night with very little sleep filled with nightmares is enough to get him on edge. The sun is barely up when he snaps, making an immediate decision: they need to get out of there for the day. Screw getting ready for leaving or making preparations, Zhou Mi could afford to miss that for one day.

“We are going running.” He announces it to Zhou Mi in a way that nips all contradiction in the bud, not that Zhou Mi would’ve wanted to resist anyway. There’s a strip of light in the horizon as they sneak outside, not exchanging a single word as they tread through the village. Everyone else seems to be fast asleep, and the silence is only broken by birds and the rustling of the forest.

Kyuhyun always leaves his clothes at the same tree when he goes running and now he takes Zhou Mi there, tangling up their clothes into one big bundle once they get out of them. Being naked isn’t really something to pay any attention to at all, but somehow Kyuhyun simply can’t keep his eyes to himself as he watches Zhou Mi move, still in his human form. Besides, he has a feeling he isn’t the only one stealing glances.

It’s like Zhou Mi waits for Kyuhyun to start transforming first, but soon they both allow it to come over them and after a while there are two large wolves standing in their place. Zhou Mi gives an almost grin when he turns his big head towards the other male, offering him an enthusiastic yip to show he is ready. Kyuhyun would’ve laughed at that but now he can only gruff a little, jogging further away from the village. He can feel Zhou Mi follow him and soon speeds up into a run, trusting he stays close behind.

Originally Kyuhyun didn’t really have a plan as to where they’d go, but he figures he’ll make it up as they go. Now he happens to think about a place he used to go with his best friends when he was younger, and before he even knows it he has already turned towards that direction. It’s a nice place, hardly anyone goes there since it is so far, so privacy is pretty much guaranteed. Also, the long trip there should burn off energy and help them both relax.

Zhou Mi doesn’t seem to mind that the run goes on and on, just bouncy and happy about the chance to get out of the village for once, and to stretch his long legs. His legs look particularly long even in wolf form and Kyuhyun can’t help but think it’s insanely attractive. Apparently both his sides, the wolf and the man, have a thing for long and beautiful legs. No surprise there.

They waste time taking detours, stop periodically to rest only to then go on with their run right after. There are no words exchanged, but they don’t even need them, obviously able to understand each other well enough like this. What should’ve taken only a few hours now takes them the whole day, and they’ve managed to waste all of sunlight as they close in on their destination.

The sun is already setting when they finally reach the lake. It’s on a large meadow but right next to it there is a small forest that casts shadows over it. The last rays of the setting sun are shining in the horizon, glimmering on the water’s surface. It’s a beautiful place, but it has been ages since Kyuhyun last was there. It’s so far it isn’t something one visits during random runs or with the whole pack.

For a moment Kyuhyun stands on a small hill and watches the scene, enjoying the way wind is ruffling his fur and brings fresh scents into his nose from down below. Zhou Mi stopped a bit behind him and now pads closer, affectionately nosing the other male’s shoulder as he steps right next to him. He obviously likes it here, since despite looking tired after the run his eyes are sparkling genuinely.

Fleetingly Kyuhyun considers if they should just take a short rest and then run back, but he decides that if they came this far they can as well enjoy it properly. He nods his head towards the lake before practically sliding down the small hill, Zhou Mi’s playful little yip reaching his ears as he follows. They are bumping into each other, running in small loops as they tease each other on the way, never minding they’re acting like young pups.

It’s been ages since Kyuhyun was this relaxed around anyone.

Once they finally reach the lake Kyuhyun stops, waiting for the other man to reach him again. He wants to talk so he reverses the change, but Zhou Mi still stays in his wolf form, watching the younger man curiously as he slowly morphs back. After taking a short breather Kyuhyun straightens, still on his knees on the soft sand right next to the large wolf.

“How about we take a short swim, Zhou Mi?” he suggests softly as he sneaks his fingers into the soft black fur on Zhou Mi’s upper back. The wolf turns his head, looking at him almost as if he is asking something. “You don’t need to change,” Kyuhyun answers what he thinks is the unvoiced question, “but if you don’t, your fur will get wet and you’ll smell,” he points out and tugs on the thick fur, earning a playful growl in turn. He discovers he likes moments like this, touching the other male slowly while he’s still in his secondary form.

Kyuhyun’s hand is still resting on Zhou Mi’s back when he feels the change reversed, the fur slowly disappearing until his fingers are grazing pale skin instead. He doesn’t even realize he might have to pull his hand back, but then again Zhou Mi doesn’t show in any way that he minds the touch almost in the back of his neck. Patiently he waits, until he can straighten as well, bring them face to face.

“A swim, huh?” Zhou Mi asks, amusement dancing in his tone and sparkling in his eyes. “A romantic moonlight swim together with me? Are you sure I won’t use it to secretly lure you in with my charm?” He is joking, obviously, and Kyuhyun doesn’t need to correct him that he is very much gone already, thank you very much. He doesn’t need to be lured in as he is already helplessly attracted, has fallen head over heels.

“The moon isn’t up yet, dumbass,” is the reply he chooses instead, playfully punching the other man’s shoulder. “And there are slimy fish in the lake. Beware that they won’t bite your toes off.”

“Oh how romantic, Kyuhyun!” Zhou Mi squeals, clasping his hands together in front of his chest. Even though he’s obviously being mocked, Kyuhyun lets it slide and instead already steps into the warm water. He always loved swimming and now is no exception. Judging by the enthusiasm, Zhou Mi agrees with the sentiment.

It ends up being less of a swim and more of an adolescent splashing in the water. Zhou Mi grabs Kyuhyun’s head and pushes him underwater only to be targeted with revenge when Kyuhyun grabs him and throws him into the small waves. They are laughing and having fun until it’s already dark, unbothered by it. Their sense of sight is sharp, the slowly appearing stars are more than enough for them. Eventually, they get out of the water, Zhou Mi complaining how his fingers are getting all pruny.

They take a while to just rest and let their skin dry, sitting on the ground next to one another. It’s a mellow moment, something they enjoy equally much. When Zhou Mi turns to look at Kyuhyun there’s nothing but honesty sparkling in his eyes, a happy smile dancing on his lips. “Thank you.” He speaks straight from his heart. “For bringing me here.”

With that, he leans in and kisses Kyuhyun. The touch of lips on lips makes Kyuhyun’s eyes fall shut automatically as he moves into it. He isn’t all known for his patience though, and with a low growl he fists his hand in the other male’s hair to yank him closer so the kiss can be deepened. He still remembers the first, tentative time, and it feels like it was aeons ago, in a different lifetime. Of course there have been kisses in between, but somehow his thoughts always go back to the first time.

Zhou Mi is more than willing, and he instantly shifts closer. Granted, Kyuhyun isn’t even trying to hold back so it’s no surprise when he grabs the other man’s shoulders and pushes him down into the soft sand. He pins the tall frame against the ground with his full bodyweight, his hands getting a little restless. There’s no harm in a bit of touching, now is there? He just wants to marvel on the smoothness of that skin.

He’s so focused in the kiss that it takes him by surprise when suddenly Zhou Mi flips them over, rolling a couple of rounds on the sand before they end up with Kyuhyun underneath him. Zhou Mi looks absolutely victorious about that, pulling back to grin at the younger man brightly.

Something in Kyuhyun’s chest rumbles at the position when he’s flat on his back, the other man straddling his thighs. If it was anyone else but Zhou Mi, he might’ve lashed out and started a bloody fight, being forced into such a vulnerable position. But it isn’t anyone else, it’s Zhou Mi hovering above him, gazing at him from dark eyes and gradually the aggression dissipates. His muscles are slowly relaxing and he knows Zhou Mi can feel it, judging by the way he grins down at him.

“Sand has such a nasty habit of getting everywhere,” Zhou Mi purrs and Kyuhyun tries hard not to flush at the implications of that, while his heart is doing silly little somersaults in his chest.

Instead of answering, Kyuhyun brings his hand up to cup Zhou Mi’s cheek in his palm, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. The burning need inside of him flared up again the second they first touched and at this rate he won’t be able to ignore it for long anymore. He isn’t good at this whole courting business, he’s a man of action and would’ve rather let deeds speak for themselves.

To say he isn’t hoping for it would be wrong, but to say he is expecting it would also be an exaggeration. Kyuhyun’s heart flips in surprise when Zhou Mi tilts his head and places a kiss on his palm, smiling at him almost deviously. The next thing he knows is that Zhou Mi darts out his tongue, tracing along his middle finger before nipping at the tip of it.

All of Kyuhyun’s blood takes a trip down to the lower part of his body in a heartbeat. “Fuck, Zhou Mi,” he groans out loud, his voice oddly rough. The wolf inside of him is vibrating in excitement, bubbling to the surface when Zhou Mi nibbles on his fingers and coats them in his saliva, before sucking them in his mouth. That instantly makes Kyuhyun think of all the other things Zhou Mi could suck and if there was any blood left in his circulation it takes an express train to his crotch.

Instinct takes over and Kyuhyun barely realizes what’s happening when his free hand shoots down to grab Zhou Mi’s hip hard, almost bruising, so he can yank him down against himself properly. The sweet friction of body against body, the glorious sensation of skin on skin, it pushes them higher almost ridiculously easily. Kyuhyun grunts when Zhou Mi cants his hips and pushes against him, rubbing down on him in the best way possible.

Finally Zhou Mi lets his fingers go, a thin line of saliva connecting them to his glistening lips. He’s grinning, perfectly aware of how big the hold he has of Kyuhyun is, and if Kyuhyun wasn’t so excited he might’ve been a little grumpy about it. Zhou Mi leans down and they kiss, teeth clashing and lips bruising, hardly anything elegant but it makes up for that in sheer passion. It’s an explosion of need.

When Zhou Mi takes a hold of Kyuhyun’s wrist and brings his saliva-slicked fingers around him, Kyuhyun’s brain short circuits. His body skips right past excited from interested to so hard it hurts. He growls into the kiss as he takes matters in his own hands – quite literally – and manhandles Zhou Mi closer against himself. Tentative at first, he rims the taller man with his index finger, the responding mewl encouraging him to take a step further.

By the time they are both breathless from the kisses Kyuhyun has managed to work three fingers inside of Zhou Mi, knuckle deep, and has him squirming on top of him. It’s taken some doing to get there with excessive amounts of saliva, but then again they have nothing but time right now. It’s obvious Zhou Mi isn’t ashamed of showing how needy he is, and rocks back against Kyuhyun’s long fingers eagerly.

It’s the hottest thing Kyuhyun has ever seen: Zhou Mi’s lips are reddened and bruised from their kisses, his cheeks flushed from effort and arousal, his half-lidded eyes glazed over, his hair a mess sticking to his sweaty forehead, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. The pale moonlight illuminates his white skin in an almost ethereal glow and somehow the contrast makes everything feel even more real.

Especially when Zhou Mi leans down and claims Kyuhyun’s lips again, right at the moment when Kyuhyun withdraws his fingers and grabs Zhou Mi’s hips instead. Zhou Mi doesn’t need to be urged, he doesn’t hesitate at all before he already positions himself on top of the younger male. Kyuhyun stops breathing when Zhou Mi sinks down on him, Zhou Mi’s muscles contracting around him, the tightness almost too much for them both until he’s sheathed in all the way.

They only take a second to enjoy the way they are connected as deeply as possible, before Zhou Mi already picks up a slow pace on top of Kyuhyun. He places his palms on Kyuhyun’s chest, and slides them down to his stomach, splaying his fingers apart as he marvels on the fact that he’s allowed to do so. The wolf inside Kyuhyun reacts with a growl at that, but to his surprise it isn’t displeased, it’s almost playful. He’s dying a sweet death as they kiss, grunt against each other’s lips whenever they pull apart for air.

Mating is never as simple as it’s thought to be. There’s always an element of choice to it, and it never happens against one’s will, even if the legends speak of it as something that takes place if the stars just happen to be aligned right. Sometimes it simply doesn’t happen, even if both parties are willing, even if they live together as spouses for their whole lives. Sometimes it can be broken, severed beyond repair. No one can explain the sort of bond that forms, either, as it’s as if there’s a pathway between two persons, joining them.

With the two of them, however, there’s no question about what’s happening. Kyuhyun can feel it bubble inside of him the second their bodies are joined, feels it prickle on his skin and shoot through his veins. It’s like someone opens the floodgates, slowly bit by bit, and with every passing second he feels more of Zhou Mi twined into his wolf side. Most importantly, he feels Zhou Mi’s wolf side for the first time ever, almost as if it’s merging with his.

Suddenly it’s all too much for Kyuhyun, the pressure inside of him forcing him to act. The low growl that slips from his lips is the only warning he manages before he flips them over – no longer caring if Zhou Mi thinks that sand gets just everywhere – and slams right into Zhou Mi’s body. It makes them both nearly howl, Zhou Mi’s back forming a perfect arch as he bucks underneath him, baring his throat. That’s like an invitation and Kyuhyun is drawn in until he can scrape his teeth over the other man’s Adam’s apple, leave a mark above his collarbone. To be allowed to kiss him, no, bite him there is like the ultimate pledge and everything in Kyuhyun is purring in contentment.

Zhou Mi brings his impossibly long legs around Kyuhyun’s hips to guide him in his movements, to pull him in and try to get every little bit he has to offer. They both want more, want to have it all, and there’s no holding back. Kyuhyun grabs Zhou Mi’s hips with one hand and his wrists with another, hard enough to leave bruises behind if it weren’t for their ability to heal faster than any regular human being.

It ends almost violently but that’s exactly what they both need right now, the only thing to put out the fire within. Zhou Mi senses it already before he feels Kyuhyun tense and the next second Kyuhyun comes hot and hard inside of him. He could’ve gotten lost staring at those gorgeous features lost in pleasure but it only takes half a heartbeat and he follows right behind, white flashing before his wide open eyes when it washes through him.

The sand is indeed sticking everywhere but neither of them cares as they stay right there, chests heaving with ragged gasps in their attempts to fill their lungs with the much needed oxygen. Zhou Mi is still shuddering and Kyuhyun has buried his face in his shoulder, waiting for the most intense sensations to fade. When he feels like he can move, Kyuhyun rolls to the side, pulling the taller male along with him.

“Mine.” The word rumbles from somewhere deep in Kyuhyun’s chest as he nips on Zhou Mi’s kiss bruised lips, cradling him into his arms possessively.

The stars are so bright up above it almost feels like they could fall down on them if they blink. Kyuhyun traces the constellations in his mind, seeking out the figures that had brought him comfort when young and desperately in need of guidance. The sand is soft beneath him, sticking to sweaty skin, and Zhou Mi is warm against his side, close enough for their shoulders to touch. If there is a perfect moment in the world, Kyuhyun is fairly sure it would be something like this.

Neither of them feels the need to say anything for the longest time, content to just stay there and bask in each other’s presence. Kyuhyun reaches into the bond that lingers between them, feeling a gush of happiness from his mate. It’s tinged with a hint of melancholy though, and instinctively Kyuhyun curls his fingers, squeezing Zhou Mi’s gently.

Zhou Mi feels it and he knows what is the cause of it. Even though he has been sensitive to other people and their feelings his whole life, with Kyuhyun that is multiple times stronger. It’s like he can see underneath all the protective layers, where Kyuhyun’s feelings shine bright and clear. And now Kyuhyun is worried. “They are getting restless. We are.” Zhou Mi whispers into the darkness. He goes on without prompting. “We lost most of our pack in the battle, but some might still be alive. We just don’t know where, we don’t know how many. And we need to find them.”

Kyuhyun nods slowly, giving the other man’s hand another squeeze, reassuring. “Is that why you’re running up north?” he asks with a voice slightly hoarse from the lack of use.

“Yes. But Han Geng got into such bad shape we had to stop. He didn’t want to, but Heechul… you know Heechul,” Zhou Mi chuckles, and Kyuhyun responds with a snort. Yes he knows Heechul, after these weeks. “He’s the one stubborn enough to get through to Han Geng.”

Kyuhyun doesn’t know what to say and he falls silent, waiting for the other man to go on.

“It’s like they’re pulling us in. This bone-deep longing to find them again and see them safe,” Zhou Mi admits in a mere breath, weak enough to almost get lost in the wind. “It hurts to ignore it. More with each passing day. We… need to know what happened before we can let it rest. Even if they’re gone.”

The more Kyuhyun thinks about it, the more stunned he is, mixed feelings storming in his mind. Zhou Mi feels the immense need to follow his alpha and find the ones they had lost, the urge so strong it’s almost impossible to resist. Still he wants Kyuhyun. Took what Kyuhyun had to offer, allowed him to take him. Surely he had known that it meant he was bound to stay with Kyuhyun’s pack? “And still you… we – you and me–” He doesn’t get any further than that. Zhou Mi understands.

“Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi rolls over and sneaks a long arm around the younger male’s ribcage, pressing close against him. His skin is warm, especially in contrast with the cool night air and it makes Kyuhyun shiver lightly. At least that is what he explains it with when Zhou Mi snuggles closer like a pup. “It might be hard to resist their pull. But it is impossible to resist yours.”

Kyuhyun snorts, but nevertheless wraps an arm around Zhou Mi’s shoulders to hold him close. The warmth is spreading from his skin, sinking deeper into the pit of his stomach. He smiles into the darkness.

With Zhou Mi’s breath hot against his collar bone, Kyuhyun knows exactly what he needs to do.

It’s almost the dawn of the following day when Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi finally arrive back at the village. They don’t make any detours this time, only stop at the tree where they left their clothes to shift back and get dressed. At least they managed to catch some sleep at the lake, so a quick nap now should suffice to get them through the day. As they slip into Kyuhyun’s bed, side by side, they stay awake only long enough to tangle their limbs in an attempt to be as close as possible.

Some time later there’s knocking at their doorway that startles them both awake. Zhou Mi has managed to roll on his back by then, half off the mattress, and Kyuhyun is drooling on his side. There’s no way either of them can possibly look in the least presentable after so little sleep, but Zhou Mi tries to smooth down his hair anyway. Kyuhyun grumbles and pulls the covers up to his chin as Zhou Mi gets up to see who it is that still insistently keeps knocking.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Ryeowook says first thing as he gets a look at Zhou Mi. “It’s sort of urgent though. You were gone all day yesterday!”

The thought of what happened the previous day, and night, makes Zhou Mi’s chest fill with a certain sort of warmth. He can’t stop smiling at the mere memory of it, and if there wasn’t for the fact that he knows he’s leaving soon he’d be ecstatic about how his life is turning out. As of now, he forces himself to focus on the happiness, ignoring the upcoming days for as long as possible. “Sorry,” he says, more out of habit than anything else, “come on, sit down!”

Ryeowook obeys, bowing down to step inside, and takes a seat next to the wall. Zhou Mi sits down opposite to him, and Kyuhyun shows enough interest to at least shift in his place until he’s facing the two of them, blinking at them from sleepy eyes. “What’s going on?” he asks, obviously not completely functional just yet.

“Someone left a message to us at the southeast path,” Ryeowook begins, his lips pressed into a thin line as if that could somehow help with the unease, to untie the knot that’s settled tightly in the pit of his stomach. He describes the sign as best as he can, and as he mentions the white feathers Kyuhyun sits up as well, suddenly fully awake.

“Sungmin thinks it’s a threat,” Ryeowook finishes, “no one seems to know for sure. But you’re staying for a bit longer,” he says, aligning his head a little towards Zhou Mi. “They’re making plans now, but no one else is let in so we don’t know what’s going on.”

Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun exchange a nervous glance. They don’t need to speak to know they both are thinking of the same thing, of the feather they saw buried in the remains of the fire. Zhou Mi can’t even bring himself to be happy about the chance to stay in the village for longer, not with the sense of impending doom hanging over them like a dark cloud.

They fall silent, all three of them lost in thought.

It’s just before supper when Sungmin and Heechul step out of the building for the first time in hours, soon followed by Han Geng and Siwon. They’re not saying anything about what’s been discussed in private, but Siwon lets everyone understand that there’ll be directions given after they’ve all eaten. Not that anyone has a lot of appetite considering the circumstances.

No one manages to eat a single bite before a blood-curdling screech cuts through the air.

They’re here.

Next Chapter

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happy new year :)

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[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 7/9

rabenhorst — Mon, 22 Dec 2014 08:15:59 GMT

Title: The Path Untraveled
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17? (overall)
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Other characters: side!Han Geng/Heechul, Ryeowook, Sungmin, Siwon, a lot of brief mentions of others (suju and shinee, mainly)
Warnings: (overall) blood and violence, hunting etc.
Wordcount: 3349 words for this part (~37k overall)
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: For as long as Kyuhyun can remember life has been the same in their village. Yet when their monotonous life is disrupted, when another pack settles on their territory, Kyuhyun can’t help but be drawn to them. Drawn to one of them especially. (wolf shapeshifters!au)
Comments: This is probably the last update before Christmas, so merry Christmas to you all! :)
Previously; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

It’s a bright and sunny day. The sky is intensely blue, only a few white fluffy clouds floating across the wide open space. Birds are chirping, joining each other in the song like a well practiced choir. Yet despite all of that, Zhou Mi can’t help but feel a little sulky. He sits on the riverbank with a huff, quickly rolling up his pants so he can dive his feet into the crisp and clear water. It feels nice, especially how it contrasts with the burning sun up above, and he closes his eyes as he drops backwards on the soft grass.

It’s a brilliant day, all in all, Zhou Mi thinks. It’s a perfect day for a long run, too. And that is wherein the problem lies. That’s exactly why he can’t help but huff a little at the birds instead of joining the song with a soft hum of his own. He’s restless. He wants to let the shift wash over himself, wants to run through the woods until his legs hurt from it and he’s ready to collapse with exhaustion.

The need to move burns in his bones but no, they’ve been told to stay in the village for the day. Not even in the company of others can they go further today.

Suddenly there’s movement a bit further away, and Zhou Mi automatically focuses on it. He doesn’t move a single muscle but he pays closer attention to his senses, even reaches out towards the person approaching. It doesn’t take much more than recognizing the hint of affection and amusement twined together that he knows who it is.

“Stop lurking in the shadows, Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi calls out. A smile is tugging his lips, finally, and not even the slight grumpiness can ruin the little skip his heart makes.

Kyuhyun laughs, but doesn’t comment and instead quickly makes his way to the riverbank as well, sitting down right next to Zhou Mi. He doesn’t test the water, though, but crosses his legs and then carefully lies down on the grass. He’s so close that their elbows are touching, and for some reason that already makes the smile on Zhou Mi’s lips grow wider. “I thought you left with the others.”

“I almost did,” Kyuhyun answers easily. “But I didn’t feel like it.”

“How could you not feel like it?” Zhou Mi can’t help the question bursting out on its own. “Today is a perfect day!”

Kyuhyun growls. He tries to aim for frustrated, but it would’ve been a sad attempt even if Zhou Mi couldn’t sense his feelings. He reaches out to slap Zhou Mi’s side weakly. “Today is a perfect day for taking naps and enjoying the sun, too.”

Zhou Mi stops to consider the words for a second. “I… guess you’re right.” The tightness in his limbs seems a little looser now, too, like his muscles aren’t coiled tight and ready for a sprint either. For the first time all day he actually notices how wonderful the sun feels on his skin, and how the splashing of the water creates a perfect background for the birds singing.

“Of course I’m right,” Kyuhyun huffs. “I always am.”

Like accidentally Kyuhyun lets his hand drop next to Zhou Mi’s, and inches it closer until he can twine their fingers together. He’s obviously trying to be subtle about it, with the way he acts all nonchalant and doesn’t say a word. It startles a laugh out of Zhou Mi, but he doesn’t comment either.

He only focuses on the warmth of Kyuhyun’s palm against his own.

The days seem to go by so fast that there’s no keeping count anymore. Sungmin sighs, closing his eyes as he tries to force the tension out of his shoulders. Personally, he doesn’t mind having Han Geng and his pack around, but he knows not everyone shares his opinion, and despite there having been no open conflicts for now it’s so exhausting to try to make sure it stays that way.

Some time alone, that’s exactly what Sungmin has needed for days now. Even if it means sneaking out in the middle of the night. He’s sitting outside, leaning against the biggest tree that hasn’t been carved into a house or storage, and sort of feels like he’s hiding from the world. Thus the sudden light knock surprises him. As he glances up it doesn’t take him more than a split second to recognize Ryeowook, and he nods a little to acknowledge his friend’s presence.

Ryeowook doesn’t move from his spot, instead leaning a little against the trunk of the tree. “Do you have a moment?” he asks, lowering his voice not to attract any attention. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, but it’s not like someone couldn’t easily eavesdrop or watch them from one of the houses.

The question itself is completely innocent, but the way it’s spoken sounds somehow so eerie that Sungmin already prepares for the worst. He sighs. “What is it?”

“I think there’s something you need to see.” Ryeowook’s mouth is pinched into a tight line, and as carefully as he tries to keep his expression blank he can’t completely hide the worry. He knows better than to create panic, though. The fewer know about this the better. “It’s not far. But come quick.”

Sungmin doesn’t need to be told twice. He has no reason not to trust Ryeowook, and so he follows him in silence towards the other end of the village. They slip into the forest, only a few paces away from the nearest house, and there Ryeowook crouches down to pull some leaves aside to reveal what he’d found.

“I figured it’d be best to hide it,” he explains, still uncharacteristically silent, “I’m not sure what it is, but it can’t be good news.”

Sungmin kneels on the ground, careful not to smudge the symbol that’s been traced on the sand. It’s an oval shape roughly the size of his hand, and there are symmetrical lines slashing through it on both ends. Right in the middle, there’s a little circle and another oval shape. The ground is dented on each side of the drawing, and Sungmin reaches out to scrape off the loose ground.

It only takes him a moment to dig through the dirt with his fingers before he hits something smooth. Gingerly he pulls his hand back, only to reveal a long, white feather. It makes his heart skip a beat, and he hears Ryeowook’s sharp intake of breath. Ignoring it for now, he reaches for the next dent, and the third, and the fourth, digging up an identical feather from each.

Swallowing hard, Sungmin sits back on his heels. “How did you find it?”

“I didn’t find my knife so I figured I’d dropped it somewhere when I came back from the river,” Ryeowook answers, his eyes still directed at the symbols. Instinctively he’s shrunken a little into himself, hunched over in a clear sign of being intimidated by the situation. It makes Sungmin reach out and place a hand on Ryeowook’s knee, hoping it’ll calm him down. He gains a grateful smile, and Ryeowook goes on. “I did find the knife. It was right next to this, sticking out from the ground like a trap.”

The words make Sungmin shudder. It sounds like they have been followed and watched for a while now. How could it be none of them noticed anything? No strange smells, no strange sounds, nothing. “I’ll…” he trails off, trying to decide what the best course of action would be. “I’m going to tell Siwon. But don’t mention this to anyone else.”

Ryeowook nods solemnly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Heaving himself up from the ground Sungmin kicks at the drawing, effectively ruining it. He remembers it by heart now anyway, and can produce an exact copy for Siwon. He hesitates for a second, but then grabs the feathers as well, sliding them into his sleeve to keep them out of sight.

This is not going to end well, he thinks.

Siwon’s decision is as predicted: they don’t tell anyone. Panic and chaos would be the last thing they need, especially with the village so divided to those who like the newcomers and those who are against them. Yet there’s no helping the fact that literally everyone in the village knows that something is up. The mood is anticipating, nervous, restless, only to name a few of the least worrisome qualities hanging in the air like storm clouds.

It’s contagious, the worry spreading like wildfire. No one speaks of it aloud, though, none of it is mentioned anywhere else but in hushed whispers in the darkness of the night.

That’s how Zhou Mi brings it up. He’s been tossing and turning on his bed for so long that he’s sure the night is almost gone already. At first Kyuhyun had been pretending to sleep anyway, but then he’d only huffed and dragged his beddings closer until they were lying side by side. Not that it helped much. The frantic beat of Zhou Mi’s heart does calm down, but he can not only smell but also sense Kyuhyun’s anxiety in addition to his own and it gets his mind into an overdrive.

“Kyuhyun?” he asks, carefully, keeping his voice down so it’s almost inaudible. The only answer is a grunt, but it’s enough to push him to go on. “What do you think is going on?” He has come up with wild scenarios during sleepless moments, but he’s pretty sure that none of those have anything to do with reality. Besides, Kyuhyun is the one who knows this area, knows this forest, and he should be the one who can figure it out.

There’s a sigh, and a rustling sound as Kyuhyun shifts and rolls over until they’re facing one another. Not that they can see much in the dark, but it’s nice anyway. “I have no idea. I asked Sungmin but I only got a stony glare. And Ryeowook got really jumpy when I mentioned it to him. If they’re not willing to share? I don’t think anyone would tell me anything.”

“Isn’t it a bit dangerous, though?” Zhou Mi frowns. “You should all know what’s going on so you could protect each other and your home. That’s how we always…” Kyuhyun can’t help the surge of annoyance at the words. It’s not because he’d disagree. Contrarily, he agrees on the sentiment fully. If everyone knew what they were up against…

Zhou Mi interprets the anger differently. “Although,” he adds hastily, accompanied by a little sigh, “I’m sorry, I always speak too fast. It’s not like our way of doing things is the only right way. I shouldn’t have upset you.”

It takes a little bit of fumbling before Kyuhyun finds Zhou Mi’s hand in the dark, but when he does his fingers are squeezed back warmly. “You didn’t. I’m just…” Kyuhyun stops to consider his words, unsure of how to put it. “I like to know what’s going on. So I can do something. Not just… wait.”

Zhou Mi hums. “I get that.” Absently he’s drawing circles on the inside of Kyuhyun’s wrist, his touch barely there. “It feels like people are scared. And Siwon… he is troubled by something. I don’t know what it is but it’s like he’s surrounded by this thick smoke of worry.”

They fall silent after that, but neither of them manages to sleep. It’s Zhou Mi who breaks the silence again, clearing his throat. “Han Geng is restless too. I think we’ll be leaving soon.”

The words settle like dead weight in the pit of Kyuhyun’s stomach. He stills, so completely he even forgets to breathe for a moment, and when he finally inhales it’s like pinpricks of tiny daggers dragging into his lungs. Why he reacts so forcefully, he doesn’t even know, and that makes it even worse. “Is he healed?” he asks, the only thing he can think of that might mean the little pack would stay longer.

“Almost,” Zhou Mi shrugs a little, his hands stilling. “I don’t think he’s as good as he wants us to believe but he’ll be good to run soon.”

Kyuhyun only nods. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s been getting used to sharing his home with Zhou Mi, going to sleep and waking up next to him, spending time with him. He likes watching Zhou Mi smile, likes listening to him sing. Feeling Zhou Mi’s warm fingers on his skin make him feel so full of life nothing else has done that before.

Honestly, Kyuhyun is not sure how he could handle losing all of that.

However, they know they both have their places, both have their packs, and both have their own paths to tread. Zhou Mi twines his fingers with Kyuhyun’s, tugging him a little closer until they’re sharing the same space, sharing warmth, yet not really embracing.

“I’m going to miss you,” Zhou Mi breathes into the dark.

Kyuhyun doesn’t reply. He’s trying too hard not to cry.

Truthfully, Zhou Mi already knows what’s coming when Han Geng tells them all to gather in the little hut he and Heechul share already the very next day. They haven’t had a real meeting for weeks, and there’s only one thing that this could lead to. That’s the main reason he doesn’t even want to go into the meeting, keeps dragging his feet and lingering in practically every corner on his way.

He doesn’t want to leave. Yet he has to, if his leader so decides. It’s not like he could stay even without a direct order, not with the way uncertainty keeps gnawing at him. He needs to know what’s happened to the rest of his friends, where they are, if they even are alive at all. And the only way to find that out is to head north to the assigned meeting place they’d agreed on months ago.

Zhou Mi holds back a sigh as he steps in through the door. He’s the last one there, and the emotions emitting from the others hit him all at once. There’s anticipation, even a tinge of excitement, and yet everything is laced with worry, with a certain shade of reluctance. Silently he takes his place, sits down next to Donghae, who immediately smiles at him and reaches out to pat his knee softly.

“We are leaving soon,” Han Geng begins, without any introduction to the topic. “We’ll just gather enough supplies in the next few days. Prepare for the trip.” He pauses, and when he goes on he looks up straight at Zhou Mi, an unmistakeably apologetic look in his eyes. “Say goodbyes.”

Zhou Mi feels numb. No amount of mentally preparing for this could’ve made it any different, he doubts. Yet he only nods, entirely wordlessly.

“Are we still headed to the glacier?” Jinki asks, tilting his head to make his overgrown bangs fall to the side.

The answer is a nod. “We need to find out what’s happened to the rest of us,” Han Geng elaborates after a second, echoing everyone’s thoughts out loud. He doesn’t seem thrilled to be leaving on that journey either, but whether it’s because he’d rather stay or because he fears the answers he might gain, well, that remains unclear.

There’s a short pause when everyone seems to be processing the information, trying to come to terms with it. Eventually Donghae frowns a little in thought, before carefully speaking up. “Shouldn’t you feel it if they’re …you know.”

“I should,” Han Geng sighs, “but I don’t know what’s wrong. There’s no trace of them. It could just be the distance, I’ve never been this far away from them before. I should’ve felt if they…” he trails off, finishing the answer with an uncertain shrug. There’s a clear frown on his forehead and it’s obvious he’s not glad about the lack of knowledge. Frustration is wafting off him in waves, intense enough to make Zhou Mi shudder.

The one to break the trance of the moment is Heechul. “Now,” he claps his hands once, “enough nonsense. We need to talk to Siwon. The rest of you, go get some sleep.”

Usually Ryeowook doesn’t wake up easily. Yet somehow it seems that tonight every single little sound makes him snap awake and leaves him unable to go back to sleep for ages. He doesn’t know how many times it happens before he gives up. As silently as he possibly can he gets up, only pulls a cloak on and sneaks outside without waking up the others.

It’s cool outside but he doesn’t really pay it any mind, except for automatically looking up to the dark sky. Nights as chilly as this are the best for watching the stars, and he smiles at himself as he traces the constellations in his mind, tries to name every and each one he sees as he wanders mindlessly forward.

He doesn’t know what draws in his attention at first, but suddenly he realizes he’s listening in on a conversation he probably shouldn’t be hearing. Sungmin’s voice is the first one he recognizes, soon followed by Siwon’s. They’re recounting the discovery Ryeowook himself made a few days ago, the signal that clearly had been a warning of some kind. As silent as he can, Ryeowook presses himself closer to the gigantic tree trunk and into the shadows, closes his eyes and listens.

It’s only the walls of the house carved inside of the tree that separates him from the discussion so it’s more than easy to keep up with it. After Siwon stops talking there’s a longer pause, before Han Geng’s voice sounds in the air.

“So what you’re trying to say is that it’s not safe for us to go now?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer. “The way I see it is that it’s not safe for us to stay anymore. Your village is clearly under a threat.” It’s a statement, not a threat, but something in the discussion makes Ryeowook hold his breath and stay as still as possible.

“You’re right,” Siwon replies at length, nothing but honesty in his tone. “It was a threat. We don’t know what kind, but it was. That doesn’t mean it’s safe for you to go, either. What if you walk straight into a trap? I’m not going to stop you from leaving.”

Ryeowook can only imagine what’s going on in that room. He hears no noises, so obviously there’s some sort of a standstill. Finally, it’s Siwon who speaks again. “I am asking you, though. We could use everyone available to defend ourselves.”

The pause that follows is even more grave. It’s like the night itself stills to listen in, like the darkness absorbs all sound so that nothing can, not even by accident, interrupt the decisions made.

The next voice is Han Geng’s.

“We will stay.”

Ryeowook releases all air from his lungs in one exhale, only realizing belatedly that it might make too much sound to betray his presence outside the walls. Yet the talk goes on without a hitch, the alphas discussing details of what their possible courses of action are, of how long Han Geng’s pack will be staying now.

Quickly, Ryeowook begins to trace his steps back to his own home. He doesn’t need to stay and listen any more. Somehow his mind flashes to Kyuhyun, then, and to the way his friend has been obviously upset about the small pack already leaving. It obviously isn’t his place to spread the information further, especially considering the way he gained it in the first place, but somehow he figures out that Kyuhyun would want to know that there is still some time before goodbyes.

The restless night has taken its toll, though, and by now Ryeowook can barely hold his eyes open. He decides to go straight to bed now, and go talk to Kyuhyun first thing in the morning. As soon as he gets up.

But first some sleep.

Next Chapter

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[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 6/9

rabenhorst — Wed, 17 Dec 2014 13:59:32 GMT

In all honesty, Kyuhyun has no idea how Zhou Mi ends up living with him. He doesn’t. It all seems to make sense when Henry points out that the small pack cannot stay in the storage room anymore now that they’re guests more than prisoners. Han Geng and Heechul are given one of the small huts that have been empty for a while, as it is agreed that Han Geng needs as much peace and quiet for his healing as possible. Donghae and Jinki end up staying with Ryeowook, and it only leaves Zhou Mi.

And well, what else is Kyuhyun to do but offer to be hospitable? Really, it’s only polite.

That’s how Zhou Mi ends up not only sleeping in Kyuhyun’s home, but also sharing his meals with him, helping him out with little chores, and in general following him around whenever possible. It should be annoying, Kyuhyun thinks, it really should, but somehow he finds himself enjoying the company and not minding it in the slightest. Especially with how Zhou Mi is so eager to learn about their life in the village, curious and open to every bit of new information thrown his way.

Besides, he thinks it’s good Zhou Mi sticks close to him. Some of the villagers still give the newcomers dirty looks, some of them look even openly hostile. They won’t do anything, not because it’d get them in trouble with Siwon, but it doesn’t mean they can’t show what they think otherwise.

“What are they doing?” Zhou Mi asks curiously, tugging a little on Kyuhyun’s sleeve as they pass by the market square. He points at the cauldron’s set above the several fires lit at steady intervals, each of the pots so tall that Ryeowook seems to have troubles reaching over the edge to stir whatever’s inside. “It’s not time for dinner yet, is it?”

“No,” Kyuhyun snorts, amused. “It’s not food.” He changes directions then, thinking that he could as well ask Ryeowook if any help is needed. Obviously Donghae and Henry have already been hired as helpers, dutifully watching the other cauldrons. “Hey, I thought you’d start this after the next hunt,” he opens, as soon as they’re within easy hearing distance.

Ryeowook turns to smile at the both of them. “We already had plenty to work with. Want to join?”

Not in particular, Kyuhyun thinks, but then again he doesn’t really have much better things to do. And he knows Zhou Mi has been getting a little restless with the lack of things to do, so he figures this is as good a chance as any. “Want us to go get the ashes? You probably have this all covered.”

“Taemin took Jinki to set up the fires,” Ryeowook says. “I think there should be enough to bring here by now. So yeah, go for it.”

Kyuhyun nods and turns on his heels, heading to the edge of the village where they have another place to set up campfires. He makes sure to grab Zhou Mi’s wrist in passing, though, tugging him along. As he suspects, it doesn’t take long for the first question to come. “Were they boiling bones? Where are we going?”

“Yes,” Kyuhyun says. “Next they’ll have to add the ashes, which I hope will be ready for us.” He glances at Zhou Mi over his shoulder, offering him a smile. “They’re making soap.”

Immediately Zhou Mi’s expression lightens up and he looks excited about learning something new. As they step on the small square Taemin is adding what look like either small trees or branches of a tree into one of the campfires, and Jinki is putting out the fire in another one.

In comfortable silence, they gather as much as they can to bring back to Ryeowook, but as soon as they’re back there Ryeowook is forced to share the details of the whole process with his new attentive student. Kyuhyun doesn’t mind, even though this is already familiar to him from doing it so many times before. He sits back, leans against one of the big tree trunks, and closes his eyes to relax. It’s nice to listen to the chatter around him, the way Zhou Mi laughs excitedly every now and then, and if there’s a small smile dancing on Kyuhyun’s lips he does nothing to hide it.

Before long, he drifts off to sleep, only waking up when Sungmin kicks him – quite literally – telling him to get his ass moving to help.

When the sun sets they’re still sitting by the largest cauldron, attending to the remains of their dinner. The crackling fire casts long shadows and paints everything in warm hues, all at once, and they move in a little closer together. There are distant sounds of children playing, and parents yelling at them to come inside for the night, just like any other evening.

“It’s been a nice day,” Zhou Mi says eventually, his smile even widening as he looks straight at Ryeowook. “Thank you for showing me how soap is done! I think I learned more today than I’ve learned in years.” He’s positively vibrating energy, like he’s so content that he’s close to bursting with it. It’s probably not very far from the truth, Kyuhyun thinks, at least judging by everything he knows of the other man by now.

Ryeowook is obviously pleased, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he returns the smile. “It’s no problem, really! It’s always so much work to get any of these kids to help…” he drawls, poking Taemin with his elbow.

The teen only huffs a little, deeming it unworthy of a reply. He doesn’t seem to mind the teasing at all, though, completely at ease. “It’s time for the payment!” he says, shifting into a more comfortable position as if he’s expecting something already. “You promised a new ghost story.”

“Ah, I think I did,” Ryeowook nods, pursing his lips slightly. “I’m not sure if I have anything exciting…”

“I do!” Donghae pipes in instantly, not even waiting for Ryeowook to properly finish his sentence. He sits up straighter, raising his hands up as if it’d make his words more dramatic. “I want to tell you about the frightening monsters, the half-human hybrids, the bloodthirsty legends…”

At that point, Taemin cuts in, obviously not impressed. “We’re half-human hybrids too, though. It’s not like we’re that scary.”

“To some we are.” Henry shrugs. “I’ve seen people run from me screaming if they have a hunch of what I am. And I’m like the least scary wolf in the world.”

“True,” Kyuhyun agrees immediately. He earns a playful kick from his friend for his efforts.

Donghae seems a little disgruntled though, his lips pursed insistently. “No. C’mon, give this a chance. They’re the most frightening creatures I’ve ever heard of! My uncle saw a few of them, when he was just a kid. They came into the town he lived in, and they kidnapped half a dozen people before they just vanished off again and were never heard of since!”

“Are you talking about the shadow people?” Taemin asks, suddenly curious. He leans forward, elbows placed on his knees, as he enthusiastically begins to recount his own version of the tale. “I heard that here, when the village was just founded, there were sacrifices made to them. It might’ve been game, or anything they’d managed to hunt, but sometimes nothing else worked but a human sacrifice.”

“Yes!” Donghae grins, excited that someone is finally as into the topic as he is. “They are at least three times as tall as we are! And they have claws as long as my arm, and a beak that could pierce a grown man easily! I’ve also heard that they have the scariest red glowing eyes ever.”

“Not only that,” Taemin smirks, “they have teeth that are like knives, and they can bite though flesh, bone and tendon like it’s nothing.”

“…so can we, though,” Jinki points out under his breath, and Kyuhyun snorts out a laugh. Taemin and Donghae either don’t hear him or don’t pay any attention to him as they keep recounting the terrifying tales they’ve heard of the appearance of these shadow people. They seem to get more and more exaggerated as they go, and soon include claws as long as a grown man.

It’s ridiculous, Kyuhyun thinks. Even if he has heard the same tales, has had the same nightmares as a child, he’s never seen any evidence of them being true. Eerie whispers in the mountainside and vague sense of movement are tricks that anyone’s mind can play on them. He knows that much. He’s not scared of the stories anymore.

Suddenly his side is nudged softly, and Zhou Mi places his chin on his shoulder. “Is that true?” he whispers so silently it’s almost impossible for Kyuhyun to make out the words. “Do they exist?”

“I don’t know,” Kyuhyun answers. “They’re a myth. But then again, so are we.”

Zhou Mi purses his lips. “I hope they stay as a myth.”

On an impulse, Kyuhyun shifts a little so that Zhou Mi can lean against his side more comfortably. Neither of them move an inch for the rest of the night, as they listen to the stories. Taemin and Donghae seem to have a battle going on about who can come up with the most exaggerated monster, and soon enough they’re all howling with laughter.

Yes, it’s a good day, a good day indeed.

One can only stay holed up inside the village for so long, and when Kyuhyun begins to itch too much from staying in one place, he asks Zhou Mi if he’d want to go somewhere. They’re not supposed to go far, not just the two of them, but he figures that if he’s vibrating out of his skin it must be even worse for Zhou Mi, who was locked up in the storage building for days with his pack. Even if he’s now been allowed to roam the village freely for a couple of weeks, it’s not the same as getting out and deeper into the forest.

Eagerly, Zhou Mi accepts, and thus Kyuhyun decides they can take a short afternoon trip to the closest mountain. It’s the only one they’re allowed to go to, proudly standing alone about halfway between their village and the row of other, larger mountains. No one would ever think to go as far as the steeper rocky hills, but the solitary mountain is an acceptable place to retreat to.

They could as well walk there but they choose to run, allowing the shift to ripple over them until they’re running through the woods together, chasing each other playfully between the trees. It’s liberating, sends an incredible wave of both excitement and a certain kind of calmness through them. This is what they’ve been craving to do for a long while now.

To the point that even when they arrive at the mountain they don’t switch back to their human forms. Kyuhyun circles the mountain until he finds the side that is dotted with caves, some barely big enough to fit a child and some large enough to house several adults. He picks one of the midsized ones, slinking inside and away from the scorching hot sun. Heavily he falls down, rests his head on his paws and closes his eyes.

He’s listening though, how Zhou Mi is padding around and examining his surroundings. He seems to make a few rounds to take it all in, before his soft footsteps are decidedly approaching Kyuhyun. Like it’s normal, like he’s always done it, he simply drops down right next to Kyuhyun and rests his head on Kyuhyun’s back.

It’s sort of comfortable, Kyuhyun has to admit. He could swear that it sounds like Zhou Mi is purring, with the way contentment rumbles out of him on its own.

They stay like that, drifting in and out of consciousness as they take the early afternoon for napping. Only when the sun has sunken lower, its rays shining straight into Kyuhyun’s eyes irritatingly, they break from their peaceful moment.

Zhou Mi is the first to shift back to human, but he doesn’t say anything until Kyuhyun has followed the example. “Is this where you come to be alone?” he asks, leaning back against the wall of the cave. He stretches his long arms a little, obviously comfortable in his skin, and it makes Kyuhyun itch to reach out and touch, an urge he instantly shakes away.

“It’s where almost all of us come when we want to have some peace,” he admits. “Except the kids, they’re only allowed here with an adult. Not that I believe for a second that they obey that command,” he huffs.

“Because you didn’t,” Zhou Mi says with a grin. It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “I bet you sneaked here whenever you possibly could! Young rebel.” He laughs, leaning a little closer to be able to poke Kyuhyun with his pointy elbow.

Kyuhyun doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Of course he did. He used to get in trouble with his parents all the time, when they were still alive, and with every other authority figure he’s ever had in his life. Not that he wanted to. He simply always was too restless to stay in one place and his curiosity drew him further than he probably should have run alone. His mother used to say he’s too clever for his own good, that he simply gets bored without things to explore. Maybe she was right.

“What is that?” Zhou Mi again breaks the silence with his question, pointing at a small bag that’s hitched closer to the ceiling of the cave, bolted on the wall with wooden pegs.

Kyuhyun only needs to glance at it to know it’s Sungmin’s, from the blue yarn holding it closed, twined with dark brown leather strip. No one else uses that exact same combination. “Some of us like to leave stuff here,” he explains. “For when they come back the next time. I used to have a knife under that,” he nods at a flat stone at the entrance of the cave, “but I haven’t needed one in ages so I’m not sure if it’s still there.”

“It makes sense.” Zhou Mi nods. “If you just want to run here, it’s good to have some stuff in handy.” He is quiet for a while, before he clears his throat and speaks up. “I used to have a place like this, too. Before. Where we lived. It was a hideout just for me, and I left things there until it was like a second home.”

Kyuhyun nods. He is curious, more than a little. Yet he doesn’t ask, and Zhou Mi doesn’t tell. Maybe the wounds are still too fresh for him, after all he’s lost his home, he’s obviously lost most of his pack, and it can’t be easy to get over something like that. Not even with the bright and sunny attitude Zhou Mi seems to be practically emitting around him.

The silence stretches on, until Zhou Mi breaks it by humming a low tune. Kyuhyun recognizes it immediately, it’s the same song that Zhou Mi keeps singing under his breath, and it sounds so achingly familiar to Kyuhyun that he is sure he has known it all his life. Yet he cannot place it, he cannot grasp it, and every time he thinks he has it pinned down it somehow slips through his fingers again.

He closes his eyes and allows the song to carry him away, follows the images it paints in his mind with surprising vibrancy.

Eventually, Zhou Mi quiets down. That’s when Kyuhyun can’t hold back the question any longer. “What is that song? I think I know it.”

Zhou Mi laughs. “You can’t know it. It’s something I came up myself. I don’t know, it sort of stayed with me. I always remember it when I’m not even paying attention.”

“Oh.” Kyuhyun doesn’t know what else to say. He wants to insist that he knows the song, that it’s so familiar that he can’t even be mistaking it for anything else. He doesn’t, though. Instead he sits back on his heels and purses his lips in an attempt to bite back the words.

That’s when he spots it. There are remains of a small campfire, not far from the entrance of the cave, and that in itself isn’t anything out of ordinary. Yet he sees a glint of white and it makes him crawl closer, curiously picking up a white feather. It’s big, almost as long as his forearm, and it’s still shining almost blindingly white even through the layer of ashes and coal smudging it.

It is not the feather of a bird. At least not a single one Kyuhyun has ever seen, or heard of. And the mere thought makes him incredibly uneasy.

“What is that?”

Zhou Mi’s voice startles Kyuhyun, coming from so close as the other man has leaned over his shoulder, curiously watching the item. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by it as much as Kyuhyun is, but maybe it’s just natural. There are a lot of things around here that aren’t familiar to Zhou Mi, he must be used to always wondering, to always being faced with new discoveries.

“I don’t know,” Kyuhyun admits. Carefully he puts the feather back where he picked it up from, covering it with the cool ashes. “I have to tell Sungmin about it.” If Sungmin won’t recognize what it is, then no one will. And then they can inform Siwon accordingly.

As much as Kyuhyun tries to forget about the uneasy feeling, Donghae’s words run through his mind, echoing back and forth inside his skull. The shadow people. The ones living on the mountains. The ones thought to be only legends, tales of old wives. Maybe there’s more to it than bedtime stories. Maybe those vague glimpses… No. He refuses to think about it.

They’re silent as they let the transformation roll over them again, this time heading back through the straightest possible route instead of taking any detours. When they’re back at the edges of the village they get their clothes from where they hid them before leaving. Kyuhyun is grateful they don’t bump into anyone since he so doesn’t feel like answering stupid questions right now, not with so much on his mind.

He will go straight to Sungmin, and tell him what they found and where, and hopefully that’ll–

Kyuhyun’s thoughts are cut short when there’s a warm palm on his arm, and automatically he turns to look up at Zhou Mi. It’s not like Kyuhyun is short but Zhou Mi still has almost a couple of inches on him, makes him tilt his head ever so slightly to look at him properly.

There’s barely any time for Kyuhyun to register the soft, fond smile on Zhou Mi’s face before he leans in closer. From the moment he goes cross-eyed trying to maintain the eye contact, Kyuhyun knows exactly what’s going on. Yet he doesn’t move. He doesn’t pull back, like his first conscious instinct tells him to. He doesn’t surge forward either, although the animal side of him is howling for it, growling somewhere in the back of his consciousness for him to finally act upon what he knows is there.

The kiss is soft at first, only lips on lips, as if Zhou Mi is asking for permission to go any further. His long fingers are dancing along Kyuhyun’s jaw, to the back of his head, before twining gently into the chocolate brown strands there. And somehow that is all it takes to make Kyuhyun’s self control snap like someone stepped on a dried up twig.

A myriad of feelings floods through him as he surges forward, deepening the kiss almost aggressively at first. That only lasts for a split second though before his conscious mind catches up and he caresses Zhou Mi’s cheek apologetically, making sure to keep it softer, gentler. He has no names for the feelings thundering inside of him but he knows it’s somehow right. He knows the wolf inside of him is practically vibrating with how pleased it is, trying to break free and to the surface in its excitement.

Then, as suddenly as it began, it ends. Zhou Mi pulls back, his lips slightly reddened from the contact and no less tempting as they stretch into a brilliant smile. “Thank you,” he rasps out, swallowing to make his voice steadier. “For taking me out there today.”

He pecks Kyuhyun’s mouth again, in a kiss much more chaste than the previous, and before Kyuhyun even has the time to pick up the traces of his coherency, Zhou Mi has turned and already walked into the village.

Quickly, Kyuhyun follows, and in his haze he completely forgets all about the feather and the feeling of impending doom that had seemed to consume him only moments prior.

Zhou Mi had thought that his new hideout was good, since no one ever disturbed him when he sneaked off and into the small clearing only a few steps away from the village. It’s essentially a bushy part of the forest where large trees have just enough space in between them for vines and shrubs to create pathways and small caverns. It’s like straight from a fairy tale, and Zhou Mi loves wandering around the area and let his imagination flow. Usually it’s where he goes to calm down and enjoy the silence, not quite used to the constant chattering in the village after spending so much time in such a small pack.

This time, he comes there to think. Also, to avoid everyone else and be alone, but the main objective of him sneaking out is to think some things through. He’s always appreciated some time just on his own, and lately it’s been increasingly hard to think in the village. Not that the village has anything to do with it, rather someone he is practically living with, someone who took him in his own home and took care of him after everything that happened.

Zhou Mi is confused. And he doesn’t exactly like the feeling. His instincts are yelling at him to do one thing, while the rational part of his mind tells him to hold back. The wolf inside of him isn’t happy, either. It thinks that the whole problem could be solved if he would just jump at Kyuhyun one of these days. Jump him and take what you want, something inside of him keeps on urging, and he isn’t exactly pleased about that.

“C’mon Seasoning,” he hears a way too familiar voice from behind his back, startling as he’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized someone approached him. “Don’t even think you can hide from me.” Zhou Mi turns and there is Heechul, standing with a hand on his hip and holding a wooden bowl. Even if Zhou Mi is sitting near a large tree, leaning back on its trunk, he isn’t exactly hidden from sight and he’s easy to spot.

“I wasn’t hiding,” Zhou Mi responds but it sounds lame even in his own ears. He’s never been good at making excuses, not to Heechul at least. Not to anyone that matters to him.

Heechul quirks an eyebrow and it’s obvious he doesn’t believe that. He doesn’t comment on it though, but instead sits down right next to the other man and hands the bowl to him. “You haven’t been eating again.” It’s mostly an observation but there’s a hint of disapproval in his tone. The concern makes Zhou Mi smile, and obediently he takes the bowl even if he isn’t feeling particularly hungry.

“Thanks.” He picks on the food a little, poking the biggest chunk of meat in the stew. It’s warm though, and when he tastes a bit his stomach grumbles as if on command, seemingly telling him that he’s hungry even if he ignores it. It has to be Ryeowook’s cooking, it wouldn’t taste this delicious otherwise. Zhou Mi chews on his food for a moment, before turning to look at the other man. “Shouldn’t you be feeding Han Geng?” They both know the alpha is still weak from his wounds and this is Zhou Mi’s way of asking if he’s alright.

“He’ll be fine.” Heechul chuckles low in his throat. “I brought him food and I think he’s napping now.” There’s an affectionate sparkle in his eyes as he looks right back at his friend, his voice softening every time he speaks about his mate.

“Is he getting better finally?” Zhou Mi asks straightforwardly, offering an honest smile.

“Yeah. The bastard’s too stubborn to stay in bed but I’m even more stubborn.” Heechul smirks, obviously proud of that fact. Besides no one can deny it, Heechul is probably the most stubborn person in existence and it’s never a good idea to get into a fight with him. That’s why Zhou Mi’s heart skips a nervous beat when the older man speaks up again. “So. Who are you hiding from?”

“I told you I’m not hiding!” Zhou Mi protests, forgetting that he has his mouth full of food. He’s sputtering and somehow manages to even get a piece of meat into his windpipes, coughing to get rid of that.

Heechul is unaffected by his crisis, though, and he doesn’t let go of his demands. Quite the contrary, he just looks at the other man expectantly, one eyebrow arched. “Yes you did and I am not buying that. C’mon. Out with the truth,” he orders sternly, and although it isn’t exactly an order from a superior to a member of the pack, Zhou Mi can’t find it in himself to refuse anyway.

He swallows, averting his gaze down to look at his feet. “Kyuh- Kyuhyun.”

“Kyuhyun?” If Heechul notices the hesitation he doesn’t show it, only turning more towards his friend to look at him better. “Why are you hiding from him? Did he do something?” Zhou Mi can feel the change in Heechul’s body language, as if he is tensing up a little and ready to run back to the village to tear Kyuhyun into pieces if necessary.

“No! No, he didn’t do anything!” Zhou Mi shakes his head vigorously, speaking fast to get the words out before Heechul will really jump up and do something stupid. He breathes out a sigh of relief when he feels his friend relax. “He’s amazingly nice and sweet and puts up with me so well and shows me places and he has helped me so much!”

“And..?” Heechul is calm now but no less curious, probably even more insistent than before.

Zhou Mi isn’t exactly enthusiastic talking about this, but he knows that Heechul will notice instantly when he tries to avoid it or lie about it. So he sighs, inhales deeply and grows the guts to answer. “…and I think I like him a bit too much.”

Heechul’s reaction isn’t exactly what he expected though. The redhead simply looks at him, blinking. “So?”

Zhou Mi sputters again. “So! I think that’s a problem!” He exclaims. How can Heechul not see it? He can’t go and misuse Kyuhyun’s hospitality by cornering him into a situation he clearly isn’t comfortable with. He can sense that Kyuhyun is interested. He can also sense the arousal and the admiration, more often than not. But it still doesn’t mean that Kyuhyun wants them to do anything about it. They are in different packs, and he’s supposed to leave with his own as soon as they’re able. He can come up with a million reasons why it will not work.

…and he is probably over thinking things. Again.

“No, it’s not.” Heechul huffs. “Seriously, Seasoning, you are a little bit dense at times.” Zhou Mi looks a little wounded at that so Heechul reaches out to pat his shoulder, going on before he manages to cut in. “You just described him with ‘amazingly nice’ and ‘sweet’. If he acts like that towards you, he must like you a lot.”

“I suppose so. I just. I never felt like this. How is it – ” Zhou Mi cuts the question off at first, hesitating for a moment before he decides to go for it after all. “How do you feel about Han Geng? Is it… how is it different?” They are the only actual mates he is close friends with and he knows Heechul would never lie to him, not about anything. He might not tell everything, but he wouldn’t lie. And while he knows that having a mate is a choice you make, more than anything supernatural, and that it’s different for everyone, he wouldn’t mind at least some sort of guidelines to get his head clear.

“Hey!” Heechul snarls in mock-annoyance and places his palm on the younger male’s face to give him a small push. “Don’t compare yourself to us! Me and him, we are fated. There is no way you could ever compare to the most epic love story of the century!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Forgive me?” Zhou Mi laughs. “I won’t make the same mistake again.”

“Good.” Heechul grumbles, a grin tugging his lips. A moment of silence later he speaks up again, obviously having thought about it. “He is a part of me. It’s like I can sense him even when he’s not there. If someone took him away it would be like cutting off my arm, except worse. I don’t know how to explain it.” He admits. They both know he would go die fighting for Han Geng, but then again he would do the same for any of his close friends too. Heechul might be eccentric, but he is unconditionally loyal.

“You’ve been together for a very long time,” Zhou Mi points out with a soft smile. He sounds a bit resigned and truth to be told, he isn’t certain if he’d ever find the answers he is looking for. Maybe he will have to just figure this out by himself. Or do like the voice inside of him tells him to do.

Zhou Mi is getting lost in thought again, going through the various ways things could turn out in his mind. He’s already almost forgotten Heechul is there, so used to his familiar presence, that when Heechul speaks up after a while it surprises him. “How does your wolf feel around him?”

“It…” Zhou Mi has to stop since he has never actually thought about it. He is so used to the constant presence of his wolf that he rarely pays attention to it, its feelings only usually channelled through adding up to his own. So he tries to recall the moments he has spent with Kyuhyun, and how the beast inside of him reacted. “Satisfied,” he concludes finally. “Constantly aware, but sort of curled up to rest.” He doesn’t mention how the wolf inside of him bubbles in excitement when Kyuhyun kisses him, or purrs contently when he listens to Kyuhyun’s breathing in the darkness of the night, how it feels fiercely protective over Kyuhyun even when there is no need. But he figures Heechul guesses that anyway.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Heechul asks instantly, tilting his head as he looks at the other man. There’s a small smirk on his lips but the look in his eyes is surprisingly soft. He has always had a thing for the other man, watching over him like he was his own pup, even if the age difference isn’t quite that big.

“What?” Zhou Mi’s eyes widen.

“Man up and go for it!” Heechul groans. “Look, it’s not the end of the world. You want him, so go get him. If you’re good enough together it’ll last and if not… well at least you tried and had your fun.”

Zhou Mi just looks at Heechul for a good while but finally, he breaks into a smile.

Next Chapter.

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@DW.

[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 5/9

rabenhorst — Fri, 12 Dec 2014 20:58:39 GMT

For the next couple of days, all that really happens is a lot of arguing. A large majority of Siwon’s pack is confused and doesn’t really know what to think about the odd, new situation. There’s also a small, very vocal group of those who want the prisoners to be killed instantly, after all they can be seen a threat with the way they refused to leave and didn’t go through any of the formalities they usually should have.

Then there are also the ones who sympathize. Ryeowook insists they can’t let their prisoners starve, until he gets the permission to give them portions big enough to survive on three times a day. Amber and Henry somehow take a liking to Donghae, and end up hanging out near the prisoners more often than not. They also tag-team into talking Sungmin over, and the tiny pack is moved in one of the bigger storage buildings so that they actually have a roof over their heads.

Anyone and everyone knows their prisoners aren’t really prisoners, though. They could break free from their accommodation if they wished, anytime. Yet they stay put, and no one knows why. The general consensus seems to be that it’s because of their alpha’s condition, the mysterious wounds that somehow don’t seem to be healing at all.

That’s what sets Ryeowook in motion. “Please, Sungmin, I have to go see if there’s anything I can do to help,” he says, not for the first time, even though all of the replies before have been a stern no. “I know you say we don’t know him and we’re not responsible for him, but are you really going to just stand by and watch while he dies? It’s not fair, Sungmin! He did nothing to hurt us, he deserves help. And I won’t wa–”

“Fine,” Sungmin interrupts, a clear frown on his face. He agrees, but he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like any of it. Neither will their alpha, and that is what he voices out loud. “Siwon won’t like this. Take someone with you. Maybe–”

“I’ll go,” Kyuhyun volunteers before he even realizes it himself. When both his friends turn to look at him questioningly he gives a small shrug, smiling in what he hopes is a very trustworthy way. It really doesn’t seem to work so he tries the next possible route. “They trust me, it can’t hurt.”

Sungmin gives him a stern look. “Are you going to do something stupid?”

“When would I ever?” Kyuhyun blinks.

That settles everything though and they only pause at Ryeowook’s home so he can grab some supplies he has ready, before already heading to the prisoners’ accommodations. “I can’t lie,” Ryeowook laughs a little nervously as they approach, “I’m a little nervous.” He’s stubborn enough to keep his chin up and the tight little smile on his lips, but the nervousness is practically radiating off him so it’s more than just a little of it.

“You’re there to help them,” Kyuhyun says, “why would you be nervous? They won’t turn you down.” He reaches over and pats his friend’s shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting way. It seems to work, at least some of the tension melts off of Ryeowook.

Yet some of it remains, and the explanation comes a second later as Ryeowook tilts his head to look at Kyuhyun. “Did you already forget I was the one who shot them?” he asks. “They wouldn’t have been captured if it wasn’t for me.”

“Exactly.” Kyuhyun stops, grabs his friend’s elbow and looks him straight in the eye. “They would’ve been killed. And they know that. You don’t have anything to fear.”

Finally Ryeowook calms down visibly, the tense lines of his body relaxing and his breathing turning deeper. There’s still wariness there, he’s ready to react to any possible situation thrown at them. That’s how it should be, that’s what makes sense. And Kyuhyun is surprised when he realizes he’s completely off-guard himself, as if he’d be walking into a house full of friends. While he isn’t even sure they are his friends. Anymore, at least.

They’re welcomed with silence, and Kyuhyun takes his time before he finally clears his throat and decides that this is enough awkwardness. “Ryeowook is our healer. Would you let him take a look at your wounds?” he addresses Han Geng, but politely keeps his eyes downturned. He’s not here to cause any more troubles.

Heechul seems to be against the thought as his immediate reaction is to stand up and move until he’s standing in front of Han Geng, as if shielding him. Irritation flashes on his face, along with something fierce, and he’s probably just about to send them on their way when Han Geng’s voice sounds, silent but firm. “Let them close. It can’t get any worse.”

Immediately Heechul deflates, all fight gone from him and he nods as he steps aside. He sits down right by Han Geng’s head though, obviously not willing to budge. Thankfully Ryeowook has a way to calm people down if he wants to, and he keeps talking in low hushed voices as he kneels beside the injured man. It’s obvious the softest skins and rugs have been given to him, and Ryeowook makes a mental note of bringing some more supplies to the little bunch.

Kyuhyun has no interest in healing, has never had, but he promised to stay so he doesn’t move. Not before there’s a palm on his shoulder, and the familiar friendly smile directed right at him. Zhou Mi doesn’t say anything but only nods towards one of the dim corners, and Kyuhyun follows him without a second thought.

They sit side by side in what most likely is Zhou Mi’s bed, and at first they just share the surprisingly comfortable silence, save for the soft tune Zhou Mi is humming under his breath. Eventually the others apparently get over the lingering tension and start chatting, Donghae being the most vocal out of the bunch. Ryeowook is chanting something lowly as he examines the wounds across Han Geng’s ribs, all the while being carefully monitored by Heechul’s watchful eye.

“Thank you,” Zhou Mi says finally, at length, “He hasn’t been getting better. We’re all worried.”

“Don’t thank me,” Kyuhyun answers automatically. “Ryeowook insisted he’d get to help you. He’s not the healer for nothing.” He shifts a little bit, though, and if he ends up sitting slightly closer to Zhou Mi’s side than before then it’s no one’s business. He can practically feel the hum of Zhou Mi’s reply, and for some reason it makes him feel oddly content. “We’re trying to convince our alpha that you’d be let free. Inside the village at least.”

Zhou Mi’s face lightens up at that. “Do you think he’ll agree? It feels like it’s been ages since I got to walk outside. I know it’s just been days but it feels so much longer! And I haven’t been running in even longer,” he sighs.

That is a feeling Kyuhyun can imagine, can absolutely sympathize with, but he doesn’t want to lie about this and give false hope. “I don’t know. Some of us still want to execute you. They’re afraid. And Siwon doesn’t want the arguing to get worse.”

“Afraid?” Zhou Mi snorts. “As if we could do anything to you. As if we would.” He makes sure to stress the last word and Kyuhyun just wants to sigh since he knows. He knows that there’s no threat. Yet it’s surprisingly hard to convince the rest of their camp of it. Fear is a strange thing, and it’s not easy for some to let go of it even though the newcomers haven’t given any indication that they’d be here to harm anyone.

There’s nothing Kyuhyun can do about it though so he just shrugs, averting his eyes to watch the others. It’s surprisingly comfortable in the room now, even Heechul has let his guard lower, less hostile and more curious. He’s even addressing Ryeowook with questions every now and then, his inquiries always met with patient answers. For some reason it warms Kyuhyun’s heart to see that, to feel the oppressive mood dissipate.

“Zhou Mi, come here,” Heechul calls after a while. He’s signalling that they need help, and Ryeowook offers him an encouraging smile. As if he needs it, Zhou Mi seems to be foolish enough to trust anyone and everyone until proven otherwise. Quickly he gets up and closer, following the given instructions.

Kyuhyun remains seated on his place, lost deep in thought, and it’s only when Donghae speaks that he realizes the other man is sitting right next to him. “Can I ask you something?” he tilts his head, looking at Kyuhyun from large, curious eyes, and goes on as soon as he receives a nod as an answer. “Have you seen the shadow people?”

Shadow people? Kyuhyun’s eyes widen. Those are something only children’s stories, only folklore talks about. Shifters like they are, but ones whose secondary form is the one of a large birdlike reptile. He’s never seen one, he’s always assumed they’re not real to begin with. Yet the way Donghae asks about it… “Are they real?”

Donghae laughs. “They are! My uncle always told me about them.” When he mentions his uncle a sad expression drifts over his features, and Kyuhyun immediately assumes that he was lost to the fiery battles back home. He doesn’t ask, and Donghae doesn’t elaborate. Instead he sticks to the original topic. “They’re supposed to live somewhere around here. I mean, I’m not sure how close. Heechul says I would get lost inside a village already,” he laughs, “so it’s not like I know where exactly we are. But the heading is right, I’ve heard they’re somewhere close to the mountains.”

Slowly, Kyuhyun nods. That makes sense, actually. The mountains are not far from here, but they’re sacred, they’re taboo, and no one is allowed to go there. Not even for a good reason. It’s always been like that, as long as Kyuhyun remembers, and he has lived in this village for practically all his life. He’s always been here. Unlike Sungmin, for example, who was born in a regular human town and moved here only in his late teens. It’s not like he’s seen anything, not really, but there is something definitely creepy about the mountains.

“We’re not… We don’t go to the mountains,” he finally admits. Donghae nods, sagely. He seems to be thinking about the new information, slotting everything he knows around it. It seems to make sense to him, too, and when he opens his mouth Kyuhyun half expects him to suggest they’d go check the place out. Instead, Donghae does a complete topic change. “Zhou Mi says you’re good people. Maybe you could let us go out for a run sometime?”

The words make Kyuhyun snort. “How does he know we’re good people? He’s too trusting.”

Donghae laughs. “He is. But he knows.”

“How?” Kyuhyun can’t deny, he’s curious. Besides he doesn’t think anyone is paying them any mind, with the way everyone else is gathered around Han Geng and Ryeowook, incredibly curious.

Donghae shrugs, but he doesn’t hesitate when he answers. “He senses emotions. If you’d harbour secret desires to kill him he’d know it.”

“He senses emotions?” Kyuhyun knows he’s not making himself sound especially intelligent, but who could blame him. It’s not like any of this is old news to him. Although it does explain a lot, about the way Zhou Mi has been acting, how he seemed to know Kyuhyun on some level from the moment they met. “How is that even possible? Does he read my thoughts?”

Again, Donghae bursts into raucous laughter. “No. He can’t read your mind. He can’t even know what causes the emotions or anything, he just senses how you feel. And it’s such a pain in the ass sometimes! Although useful, too, I gotta admit. He’s the only one I’ve known who can do that, but there are more, I’ve heard!” It doesn’t seem like Donghae minds too much, considering the way he’s grinning and completely at ease. Or maybe he’s just had enough time to get used to the thought that his emotions are never going to be completely his around his packmate.

The thought makes Kyuhyun restless. How many inappropriate thoughts has he managed to radiate in Zhou Mi’s presence by now? How much has he given away? He feels strangely violated, even though he has absolutely no reason to assume that Zhou Mi would ever use his powers against him.

Donghae launches into an elaborate story of something concerning the shadow people but Kyuhyun isn’t properly listening anymore. He barely says a word before Ryeowook finally tells him it’s time for them to leave, and even then just follows him outside blindly.

This is something he’ll need to process properly.

From then on, Ryeowook is welcome to visit their prisoners whenever he so wishes. He’s not met with wariness but welcomed with open arms, and he gradually learns to trust the newcomers enough to go inside alone. Sometimes Kyuhyun still accompanies him, sometimes Henry goes with him, sometimes even Sungmin, but most of the times he pops in and out of the storage on his own.

When Kyuhyun asks about it, Ryeowook just smiles and shrugs, but he’s obviously doing something right as Han Geng’s condition seems to finally be improving. Slowly, yet it’s much more than can be said about all these weeks before now. It makes the small pack considerably happier and more at ease, and somehow that manages to make Siwon’s pack look at them with a little less disdain. Some people still want to kill them, or at least chase them away, but even they’re wavering in their opinion the more time passes.

As soon as Han Geng is in a passable condition, he and Siwon have an official meeting. It’s long overdue, everyone knows that, but Siwon hadn’t wanted to force it upon Han Geng when the man was unable to even stand properly on his own. No one else is present, and what is said behind the closed doors remains a mystery.

When they emerge, Han Geng says nothing. He immediately retreats to the storage building his pack is still occupying. Siwon gathers all of his own at the bonfire. It’s eerily quiet, as everyone knows there shall be news on the resolution reached. Children are shuffling, too restless to stay completely still, but none of them makes a sound. Patiently, they wait.

Siwon doesn’t make them wait for long. He clears his throat, looks around the small crowd gathered around him, and speaks up slowly. “They are staying with us.” There’s a collective gasp of surprise but no one protests, not with a single word. After a meaningful pause, Siwon goes on. “Not forever, but for now. They are completely free to go anywhere within the bounds of the village. They may go further only one at a time, and only when accompanied by one of us. Clear?”

There are a few nods, a few agreeing murmurs, and in general most seem to accept the decision without as much as blinking. The random questions that follow are all ignored as Siwon simply turns around and walks back into his house. There’s going to be time for questions later, and right now he only needed to clarify the situation to everyone.

He is not surprised when there’s a soft rap of knuckles against the wall a moment later, Sungmin ducking inside the next second. He sits back, waits until Sungmin has settled on the floor next to him, both leaning back against the sturdy wall. “I know him,” he begins, slowly. “Han Geng. From years back.”

That is news to Sungmin, and he takes a while to process the information. “He’s the one you mentioned before? Who stayed with your family for a while?”

“Yes,” Siwon nods. “I… we were kids, I don’t remember much of him. But I remember that my father trusted him, trusted his family.” He closes his eyes, dips his head back and lets out a long breath. “I can’t throw that away.”

Sungmin knows that Siwon is the one in control, he’s the one who makes the decisions, and that it’s no one else’s business to interfere. Yet he smiles, even though Siwon can’t see it, and reaches out to place a warm hand on Siwon’s arm. “You’re doing the right thing,” he murmurs, “they’re good people.”

Siwon only huffs. But he does nothing to cover the hint of a smile tugging on his lips.

Heechul sighs almost inaudibly as he snuggles closer and presses his nose into Han Geng’s neck. He inhales deeply, allowing the familiar scent to wash over him and make him slowly relax. It’s warm even if they have nothing to cover them, as they’d been given one of the small, empty houses now. It’s essentially a tree, only carved hollow to make a small hut. “What happened there?” He asks after a moment of silence, aware of how the question instantly makes the other man tense.

“We talked,” Han Geng answers shortly. At first it seems he isn’t going to elaborate on it further, but Heechul knows when to be patient. He knows when to wait and that is exactly what he does. Gently, he brushes his fingertips over smooth uncovered skin, all the way from Han Geng’s collar bone to his waist. It’s almost like marking his territory, showing that this is his and he would never let go of it.

He is right. Some time passes, but then Han Geng speaks up again in a low voice. “We’ll stay here.” He tilts his head to meet Heechul’s gaze with his own in the darkness. Even if it’s almost pitch black for human senses, there is still plenty of light for them to see. “There won’t be a fight over the territory but we will live in their houses, share their food, hunt with them…”

“We will merge with them until we’re a part of them?” Heechul asks, sitting up quickly. The disapproval is clear in his expression, in the deep frown between his eyes. He isn’t exactly known for hiding his opinion or his emotions, and he is the only person in the pack who would get away with straight out yelling at their leader. “Are you serious!? You’ll submit to that alpha and let us into his hands without knowing what will happen? We will be stuck here for good!”

“Stop it Heechul.” Han Geng winces as he steadies himself on one elbow, straightening a bit to get closer to the other man’s level. “Listen to me first.” Heechul looks utterly displeased but not a word slips past his lips as he just looks expectantly at the other male. “Yes, he will be the one in charge, but no, we won’t merge into their pack. We’re like… visitors on their grounds. We’re free to leave when we please and we don’t need to follow him on any idiotic suicide missions. Use common sense. We just need to make sure we’re polite guests and treat him as the big boss of this territory.”

For a moment still, Heechul simply keeps on staring at Han Geng sternly, weighing the options and trying to decide what he thinks of it, and at the same time trying to hold back his impulsive nature. Finally he sighs, nodding slowly. “Alright. I suppose you’re right.”

Han Geng offers him a soft smile, reaching out. “You know I am.” Heechul doesn’t comment on that but instead sinks right back into those waiting arms.

It’s already been silent for long enough that they seemed to have fallen asleep, before Heechul breaks it, unable to sustain his curiosity. “You know him from before?” The alphas had talked for quite a while, and everything pointed to them knowing each other from before. But Heechul is positive he had stuck by the other male their whole adulthood and he can’t remember, for the life of him, where he’s seen this Siwon before.

“Yes. I.” Han Geng pauses for a second only to go on unprompted. “When I was away?” When he had been young, he had been sent away and only after years he had returned to his father’s pack. It had been educating, had morphed him into the man he was now. It had forced him to grow up, face his fears, and had turned an almost shy boy to a respected alpha. “I met him and a few of his pack then. He’s a good guy.”

Playfully Heechul plants a small punch on the other man’s shoulder, grumbling lowly at that. “I would tell you you’re insane if I didn’t know you better.” He does trust the other male’s judgement, that’s no issue. He simply doesn’t like the whole situation and how one moment they’d been running north and the next were practically a part of a larger pack. The silence stretches on for a while, before he goes on and startles the other man from his half-asleep state. “Zhou Mi said so too. He trusts this Siwon person for whatever stupid reason.”

That catches Han Geng’s curiosity and the sleep is gone in an instant, his eyes snapping open. “Has he been around him enough?” They both know Zhou Mi is emphatic and can sense emotions much more than any regular person, but he needs to be close enough to the person to sense anything even remotely reliably, and emotions are so often mixed that it is hard to say what they are directed at.

Heechul sounds almost offended by the question though, snorting at it. “Yes. He’s never been wrong and you know it. Not about general impressions.” Besides there had been way too many times in the past their friend had gotten them into embarrassing situations, just by sensing too much and not keeping his mouth shut.

“…and the fact that he wants to stay here has nothing to do with it?” Han Geng grins in the darkness.

Heechul answers with a matching grin of his own. “You noticed?”

“How could I not?” Han Geng laughs, amusement clear in his voice. “That splotchy wolf boy has been hanging around us ever since we came into the village. Don’t think I missed how he sneaked Zhou Mi snacks and treats when he thought no one was looking.”

Heechul is still grinning, even more widely than before. “I think they’re kind of cute,” he admits.

That earns him a questioningly raised eyebrow. “You think they’re kind of cute?”

“They remind me of us when we were pups,” comes the explanation without missing a heartbeat.

“…you were never that nice to me.”

“Hm true,” Heechul cackles, before going on in a sing-song voice. “I kind of pity the wolf boy though. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into.”

This time it’s time for a disapprovingly raised eyebrow and distantly Heechul thinks Han Geng is getting pretty damn expressive with them. “Now you sound like there’s something wrong with Zhou Mi.”

“That’s because there is.”

“What?”

Heechul sighs in deep, as if he shouldn’t even be explaining something that is clear as day. “He has this amazing talent to make everyone around him do exactly as he wishes. The poor boy is whipped and he doesn’t even know it yet!” He concludes triumphantly, looking at the other man expectantly.

Han Geng purses his lips thoughtfully. “Fair enough.”

In the darkness Heechul smiles. No matter what he says, no matter how he acts, he always just wants the best for his pack. He can see how much Zhou Mi enjoys the company of his new friend and he hopes, hopes with all his might, that he won’t need to see Zhou Mi get his heart broken. Since if he does, Heechul will have some bones to break in return.

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[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 4/9

rabenhorst — Sat, 06 Dec 2014 11:05:34 GMT

“Would you please try to make us something else for once!” Heechul groans displeased as he’s presented the small wooden bowl of dried meat and berries. He looks at it like it’s poisoned, obviously not happy about his diet as they’ve been eating the same ever since they set up a camp in the small grove. “How about we go on a hunt and feast on a nice, bloody and steaming boar or something…” He mumbles, knowing fully well that they won’t.

Zhou Mi looks somewhat embarrassed though, already opening his mouth to apologize when Donghae cuts in instead. “Stop complaining, Chul! I love this!” He underlines the words by scooping up a huge chunk of meat and berries and stuffing it into his mouth. It makes him look like a hamster, with puffed cheeks and a good natured smile. He is already filling more food into his cup, even though he’s hardly swallowed the first mouthful he’s chewing on.

“That doesn’t count,” Jinki counters from next to him, grinning. “You eat anything.” He’s leaning back against the huge trunk of a tree they dragged close to the fire and he doesn’t even look up from his food. Regardless, he is very well aware of Donghae’s pout even before his foot is poked to gain some attention.

“I do not!” Donghae sputters, ignoring the way it sends a few pieces of food flying as he hasn’t managed to swallow everything yet.

The whole exchange makes the others grin, even Han Geng who is half-sitting and half-lying as it takes a lot of effort for him to prop himself up. He tried to decline food, but Heechul makes sure he is force-fed a bit at least, every day. “It’s good, Zhou Mi,” he compliments softly and gains one of the happy, sunny smiles from the other male. They all know they don’t have much food, and since they agreed on trying to hunt as little as possible, the situation is hardly going to get any better.

They tried to take turns in cooking but after a few days it turned out it was Zhou Mi who is in charge of the food. Not that he is particularly good at it, he barely makes things edible, but with Han Geng being sick he is pretty much the only one who won’t end up poisoning them or creating a disaster otherwise. There’s no denying that it makes them tired and restless, being constantly hungry and running on too little food. That, added to the fact that the urge to hunt is growing bigger and bigger each day they need to suppress their instincts.

It leaves everyone somewhat grumpy more often than not, and after they finish eating they just sit there in complete silence for a good while. Eventually, Donghae begins to babble about something he’s seen the day before, about a deer he wanted to hunt and that he then followed just for fun at a small distance.

Heechul is the first one to notice something is up. Suddenly he raises his head a bit, straightening on his place. Listening. Everyone hushes immediately as they notice since they know what that means and that their lives can depend on their senses. Soon they all hear it: footsteps. Someone is approaching them and isn’t even trying to be discreet about it. That either means that the person is coming there as a friend, or that he is so sure of himself he doesn’t need to hide.

“It’s only one person,” Heechul growls lowly, deep from his chest. A couple of the others nod slowly in agreement.

Donghae is the next one to speak up. “Smells like the wolf who is courting Zhou Mi!” he exclaims, unable to hold back his excitement and thus speaking a little too loudly. Jinki hushes him instantly with a hand on his lips, looking a little worried.

Zhou Mi sputters a little, protesting. “He is not courting me –” He never finishes the sentence since Heechul silences him with a hand gesture, slowly standing up. Only a second later there is movement and indeed, Kyuhyun steps from the forest into clear sight. He is obviously slightly nervous, Zhou Mi felt it even before seeing him. Whether it is because he is alone, approaching a pack of five, or for something else he doesn’t know. Being sensitive to emotions doesn’t make Zhou Mi psychic and he doesn’t know what causes them.

“What are you doing here, wolf boy?” Heechul asks with a snarl, something clearly protective in the lines of his body as he steps between his mate and the new wolf. It’s a weird sight, usually it would have been Han Geng confronting the stranger but now he can barely stand up, much less actually act like the alpha he is.

It’s obvious that Kyuhyun isn’t pleased by the aggressive words, barely managing to suppress a growl before it erupts from his throat. For a moment he meets Heechul’s gaze straight, as if he’s here to challenge them, but then seems to decide otherwise. He averts his eyes and instead looks into Zhou Mi’s direction, and Zhou Mi can feel some of the frustration dissipating. “I’ve come to warn you. My alpha, my pack –” he swallows. “You’re in danger.”

Zhou Mi instantly gets on his feet, clearly worried. “They’re coming here?” A nod from Kyuhyun confirms his suspicions and he turns to look at Heechul. “We need to get Geng somewhere safe.”

Heechul clearly agrees but they both know it won’t be quite that simple. Not when the man in question raises his voice, commanding despite the condition he is in. “No one needs to get me anywhere.”

Painstakingly slow, Han Geng stands up. Everyone is more or less staring at him but he keeps his cool, doesn’t even wince even though sweat is beading on his temples, showing just how big the effort is. “If we run. They will catch us.” They all know that, averting their eyes down as their alpha glowers at them. Even Kyuhyun looks down instinctively, despite not being a part of the pack. “We will stay. Just.” He sighs. It’s obvious this pack has been through this before. Even their alpha’s voice is a mere breath as he goes on. “Don’t go down without a fight.”

The mood isn’t the happiest after that. Heechul doesn’t say a single word as he supports Han Geng to the side and helps him rest down on the ground. One can clearly see how agitated he is though, from the tense set of his jaw to the fiery flash in his eyes. Donghae and Jinki work side by side as they begin clearing the camp, putting everything together as if they are going to leave, while everyone knows they aren’t going anywhere.

At first Kyuhyun doesn’t know what to do, but it feels awkward just standing there. Resigned, he follows Zhou Mi to the food hideout a few feet away, silently helping him take the meat down from the tree and collect everything in the lacking supplies. Several times he opens his mouth to say something but ends up swallowing the words before they can be voiced.

Kyuhyun is so focused on his work that it takes him a second to realize Zhou Mi has stopped moving, only stands there watching him. He looks up, instinctively returning the soft smile, even if a little awkwardly. “Why did you come warn us?” Zhou Mi asks.

That is a question Kyuhyun knew to expect, but it doesn’t mean he has any idea what to answer to it. He inhales deeply, makes a small frustrated sound and decides he has no proper explanation for it. “I don’t think it’s fair, attacking you. You’re not doing any harm here,” he offers the only reason he managed to come up with, even if it sounds quite lame even to his own ears. It’s better than the alternatives, which are all some variation of I think I’m attracted to you and I don’t want you to get hurt.

Zhou Mi can sense the mixed feelings: affection, nervousness, awkwardness, embarrassment… attraction. A dozen different feelings he couldn’t name and that just linger for a split second, not long enough to grasp. He says nothing, however, only smiles honestly. “Thank you.”

Before Kyuhyun even knows what is going on, there is a soft pair of lips on his own, gentle fingers brushing down the side of his neck. He shivers involuntarily, leaning in to the contact. Something warm pools in the pit of his stomach, the wolf inside of him torn between purring in contentment and pacing around restlessly.

As soon as it begins it is over again. Zhou Mi smiles like nothing happened and Kyuhyun feels like his world has just turned a little, irreversibly.

It’s a night of no sleep. There isn’t much they can do but wait. They packed all their belongings, put the camp together the best they could. Since one thing is for certain: they won’t stay here, not under any circumstances. If Siwon will let them live… they will probably be chased into exile.

Han Geng’s condition is a taboo topic. No one dares to address it but everyone keeps on sneaking long glances at him whenever they can. He’s pale, moves as little as possible, and doesn’t speak a single word unless first spoken to. Not that anyone dares to even speak to him, even Heechul seems to be uncharacteristically quiet.

The first rays of the morning sun are peeking through the trees, morning dew glimmering on the leaves. It’s cooler than before and thin mist has risen, preventing them from seeing far. It’s as if the sun rising is a sign, as Han Geng stands up and walks to the middle point of their small camp. Without a word he begins his shift, thick fair fur appearing all over his body. As a human he said nothing, but as soon as he reaches his wolf form a low, feral sound rips its way from his throat. He bellows into the morning air, a sound his pack clearly takes as a command.

The others follow his example simultaneously, their changes taking different amounts of time so that they are in various states of morphing a blink of an eye later. Heechul is considerably smaller as a wolf than the alpha, his fur almost too red to count as brown anymore. They are quite an odd couple but strangely compliment each other well. Donghae’s brown fur looks quite average, but it’s obvious he is agile and fast, judging by his lean form. Jinki is surprisingly big as a wolf, his fur so dark brown it almost looks black.

What catches Kyuhyun’s attention is the shift Zhou Mi goes through. His fur is black, onyx black, so dark he doesn’t think he’s seen anything like it before, but there are white splotches on his face and his chest, underlining the contrast. He is thin, and obviously his height doesn’t vanish anywhere as he is quite a sizeable wolf, almost gangly. Kyuhyun momentarily gets stuck staring, before he remembers that he doesn’t want to be in the middle of a wolf fight in his human form.

Nearly reluctantly he lets his dark chocolate brown fur ripple over him, fully aware it’s almost curly. Something his friends call adorable, but what he himself classifies as annoying. Zhou Mi gives him a long glance, and he could swear that he is laughing at him. Playfully he snaps his jaws, earning an amused growl from the other male in turn.

They are silenced by a stern glance from Heechul. This is no time for such things. Kyuhyun bows his large head in apology, sensing that Zhou Mi follows his example right beside him. Heechul huffs but lets them be. Donghae is shifting somewhat restlessly, but Jinki steps closer and a friend’s presence seems to calm him down.

It feels like hours before there is movement in the horizon. It’s Jinki who notices something is up. He tenses visibly and everyone notices, following the line of his sight. The first thing they see is a huge wolf, leading his group towards them. Kyuhyun is the only one who knows for certainty that it is Siwon, but everyone else comes to the same conclusion as well. With a quick glance Kyuhyun recognizes Shindong, Eunhyuk and Henry, in addition to Siwon. The other wolves are behind the front row and he keeps his eyes on Siwon.

At first the other wolves just approach them slowly without any sign of aggression. They all know it’s just a cover though, it isn’t how things will end. When Siwon’s gaze falls on Kyuhyun something flashes in his eyes but he doesn’t react otherwise, instead turns back to Han Geng. Without realizing he’d been holding his breath in the first place Kyuhyun releases all air from his lungs. He knows that if his alpha commanded him he would need to obey, without questions, and he isn’t certain if he could have.

Siwon approaches Han Geng, who stands completely still. In wolf form it isn’t so clear that Han Geng is weak, one can’t see him go all pale and sweat bead on his forehead, and he manages to look much more intimidating than expected. Not that Siwon cares much though, not when he’s at least equally dominate, and considerably bulkier. There is some kind of a wordless exchange going on, between the two alphas, and no one else dares to move an inch.

Not before suddenly Siwon jumps. Han Geng barely manages to slip away before those large claws dig deep into the soil on the spot he stood on just a second earlier. The bellow Siwon releases in the air is so loud, so feral, it would have made almost anyone run away scared.

After that, everything goes like in fast forward. Heechul tries to snap at Siwon for attacking Han Geng although he knows that technically no one is supposed to meddle with the fights of two alphas. That results in Shindong tackling him to the ground and Zhou Mi moving in to protect him, and soon everyone is on the move. Claws cut the air, teeth dig deep into flesh, and if it wasn’t for their ability to heal unbelievably fast there would have been corpses lying on the ground in mere minutes.

Kyuhyun tries to serve as a human shield between his pack mates and the newcomers, especially after he notices that his friends try to avoid hurting him the best they can. Still, something seems to be off and if he hadn’t been so busy trying to make Henry let go of Donghae, he would’ve noticed it sooner.

None of Siwon’s wolves aim to kill. They are biting, they are scratching, but they make sure not to make it too deep, too severe. That makes no sense, no sense at all. Not before Kyuhyun notices movement in the corner of his eye. He spins around, releasing a warning growl even though he knows it came too late.

Sungmin bounds closer in his wolf form, a very human Ryeowook hunched over his back and holding on to his thick fur. Ryeowook has a blowgun and with painful accuracy he takes down the wolves one by one. The first thorn hits Jinki’s neck and the wolf only has the time to roar before it falls heavily down on the ground. Donghae yips and the next thorn hits him, making him collapse next to Jinki’s bulky frame.

Next is Heechul, then Han Geng, and then the blowgun is aimed at Zhou Mi. Without giving it a single thought Kyuhyun takes action, collecting all the strength in his hind legs as he jumps. Something stings just below his shoulder blade and he releases a low grumble, a sudden wave of dizziness coming over him. His legs feel powerless, all strength flowing away from him and he needs all of his focus to be able to fill his lungs with the much needed air.

When he hits the ground he barely feels it. Then the world goes black.

Everything hurts. It’s like someone had a hammer and took great enjoyment in beating the back of Kyuhyun’s skull with it, quite mercilessly. His mouth is dry like Sahara and swallowing hurts, hell, even breathing hurts and he tries to do it as slowly as he possibly can. Sleep seems like an alluring option, but no matter how much he tries he can’t sink back into unconsciousness. When he shifts it tears a groan from his throat, making him feel like he is swallowing barbed wire, bleeding on the inside.

Suddenly there is a hand on his shoulder, a cup of water brought to his lips. Weakly he lifts his head just enough to get some of it on his tongue, most of the water spilling over and on the rugs he’s lying on. After another sip of the water he manages to actually force his eyes open, blinking to make them work and focus on the person sitting beside him.

“You’re lucky it was Ryeowook. Had it been anyone else the dosage might’ve been lethal.” Sungmin’s voice is low but still audible enough. Kyuhyun doesn’t feel that lucky though. He groans, reaching for the water and this time he manages to actually hold the cup and drink without much help from the other man. He lets his eyes fall shut again, trying to will the pounding headache away.

Sungmin’s voice doesn’t help but at least he tries to speak lowly. “He’s really sorry he hit you. I think once you feel like you can walk, you should go tell him it’s not his fault. Since, you know,” his voice gets a tad bit more stern, “it isn’t. Who knew you’d be stupid enough to jump in the line of fire!”

The louder his voice gets the more Kyuhyun’s head feels like bursting that very second and he squeezes his eyes shut even tighter as if it would help to keep the noise out. “Please Sungmin,” he whispers lowly, and his friend takes the hint, even if he is still frowning. The silence helps Kyuhyun calm down a little and after some time he actually feels like he could run a proper conversation. A silent one, but a conversation nevertheless.

“I didn’t think,” he admits quietly. “I saw the blowgun and I… just jumped. That’s it.” He gives a small shrug to emphasize his point, even if it seems to aggravate his headache further.

Sungmin frowns even more. “You do know what that means?” He asks, glaring at his friend. Kyuhyun just blinks at him, clueless, and it’s enough to make him groan in frustration. “I repeat. You are an idiot.”

Kyuhyun scowls.

After some time Sungmin disappears, leaving Kyuhyun to get some sleep to regain his strength and finally get rid of the nasty aches. He leaves him some food and herbal tea that is supposed to help with the pain, and Kyuhyun can only silently thank him for it. He isn’t certain how he would’ve survived otherwise. Especially not when Siwon comes visit him a few hours later to give him the worst scolding of his life. Siwon makes sure to yell at him enough to make clear he would never ever tolerate an act of disobedience like this again.

It takes the whole night and the following morning before Kyuhyun feels like he can get up and move. By the end of it he is getting so anxious that he can hardly stay still, dying to go out there and see what happened to the small pack. To Zhou Mi. He asked Sungmin but the other man refused to tell him, only commanded him to rest and regain his strength. It almost sounded like there had been some kind of a massacre after he’d been put down to sleep, and it doesn’t exactly ease his worries.

The next person to bring him food isn’t Sungmin though, but Ryeowook. He approaches quite carefully, giving the other man a small nod as he steps into his home. “Here’s something to eat for you.” Ryeowook’s smile is soft as he reaches to place the bowl on the bedside, making a move to leave right after.

“Thank you.” Kyuhyun feels a sting at his conscience for making his friend, one of his best friends at that, feel bad for his actions. When the other man has already turned around, he stops him by quickly speaking up. “Wait, Ryeowook.” Saying sorry is indeed the hardest thing and he sighs a little, before looking straight at his companion. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be,” Ryeowook smiles and this time it’s obviously relieved, reaching his eyes. One can see how he visibly relaxes at that, knowing that there is no bad blood between the two of them. He even moves to pour Kyuhyun a cup of water from a drinking pouch that is hanging on the wall.

Once Ryeowook sits cross-legged beside Kyuhyun’s mattress, made of fur and hay, he offers him the drink and it’s gladly accepted. Kyuhyun takes a good moment to drink up, even getting a few mouthfuls of food before speaking up again. “What happened to them?” He simply has to ask, needs to know it and he feels like he will burst if he won’t gain at least some information finally.

It only takes Ryeowook a second to piece together what his friend means, his questioning expression only flashing across his face. “To the pack?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer before going on. “Oh they were just sedated. Like you. Now they’re out there, being guarded. Slowly waking up too, like you.”

Kyuhyun arches an eyebrow. “Guarded?”

“They’re in the corral.” Ryeowook gives a small shrug. They have a corral outside, near the village square, and they used to keep sheep there before they noticed it makes no sense. Growing any animals isn’t really advisable when the village is inhabited by wolves with a strong urge to hunt. They figured it out soon enough. “There are always two or three of us watching them. But they haven’t really tried anything.”

What would they try, Kyuhyun thinks inwardly. One of them is sick and the others would never leave him behind. They aren’t exactly suicidal either. Still it makes his heart a little lighter, the worry dissipate slightly, as he hears that the others are alive and still there. “What are we going to do with them?” He asks curiously, knowing he’s been out of everything for hours.

“I don’t know.” Ryeowook admits honestly, meeting his friend’s gaze shortly with his own. “Siwon doesn’t want to kill them. And he doesn’t seem to want to chase them away, either.” So nothing has changed at least on that front, their alpha still seems to be strangely fond of the newcomers. “Many do, though.” Ryeowook goes on after a second, fiddling with the cup in his hand. “Some want to try to sneak in and kill them in their sleep.”

That instantly makes a growl bubble from Kyuhyun’s chest. “Siwon wouldn’t let them.” I wouldn’t let them. He doesn’t say that out loud though, especially not when his friend gives him a questioning glance. Quickly Kyuhyun looks away, to the side, and pretends like he didn’t say anything at all.

To his luck, Ryeowook doesn’t push it. Instead he switches topics completely. “Their alpha is in a pretty bad shape… I’ve tried to figure out how to help.” That is typical of Ryeowook, always wanting to help a person in need. He isn’t their unofficially assigned doctor for nothing, and along the years he’s grown quite good at it, too. “They don’t trust me much, though.”

Again Kyuhyun doesn’t even think before he speaks. “I can help.”

“Thank you.” Ryeowook smiles at him honestly. For a moment he eyes the other male, as if trying to figure something out. Kyuhyun waits, patiently. And finally curiosity wins and Ryeowook speaks up. “You know. I wanted to ask you. Why did you jump?”

That, Kyuhyun can’t answer. Not even to himself. “I don’t know.”

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[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 3/9

rabenhorst — Wed, 03 Dec 2014 14:09:30 GMT

At first, Kyuhyun is determined to keep the whole mishap to himself, never mention it again and hope that no one will find out. He should’ve known he isn’t that lucky though, since almost the second he walks into the camp he runs into Ryeowook. He curses under his breath, annoyed at himself and how he had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the other male.

Ryeowook only gives him a quizzical look, arching an eyebrow. “Kyuhyun! Where have you been? You should tell someone if you go out on a long run.” He is probably the only person, or one of the very few, who gets away with motherly scolding like that, the tone of his voice more suitable for addressing a disobedient pup. But Ryeowook and Kyuhyun have been friends ever since they really had been puppies, and Kyuhyun knows the words are spoken with affection so he swallows down the annoyance bubbling slightly inside of him.

It doesn’t mean he wants to talk about the matter, though. “I got a bit carried away. Sorry.” Kyuhyun inclines his head a little bit, offering what he hopes is close enough to a reassuring smile. He isn’t that certain it succeeds, especially with how well they know each other.

As predicted, Ryeowook looks suspicious and purses his lips into a small frown. “Carried away enough to bruise yourself like that?” He gives a small nod, pointing towards the general direction of Kyuhyun’s arms and the bruises on his chest. He ran home as a wolf and didn’t bother to put on clothes, and now the downside comes very clear. Anyone can see the condition he’s in.

“Well,” Kyuhyun falls silent, knowing that if he says the bruises are hours old the other man will know how badly he was hurt to begin with. And he doesn’t want that. Maybe he can still chalk it up to being careless. Falling from a tree, maybe?

He doesn’t get a chance to even try his horribly lame excuses.

Ryeowook steps closer and reaches out, not quite grabbing Kyuhyun’s hand but touching his wrist as he lowers his voice considerably. “Was it the other pack?” He asks worriedly, clear concern flashing in his eyes, along with anger Kyuhyun knows isn’t directed at him. “Did they hurt you?”

“No!” The strong reaction surprises Kyuhyun himself, too. “No,” he repeats more calmly, “they didn’t. One of them actually found me and helped me up. Got me food.” And looked right into my soul, he adds inwardly, knowing he would never ever say things like that out loud. Not even if those dark eyes are lingering in the back of his mind even now. That is just stupid and he snarls at himself for it.

“They did?” Now the look Ryeowook gives him is just plain surprised, his eyes wide. He seems to consider something, one can practically see his mind work, before he looks up again. “Did you find out anything about them?”

Kyuhyun shrugs lightly. “Not really.” He thinks about it again, about the campfire and the discussion, about the way he had been treated and the things that had been said. Finally he sighs barely audibly, giving another shrug. “Except that their alpha is hurt. That’s why they’re not moving.”

Slowly Ryeowook nods, obviously still lost deep in thought. “You should go tell Siwon.” He points out after a moment, voicing out what they both know.

Kyuhyun cringes. He doesn’t exactly wish to go to their alpha and tell him what an idiot he had been and what he had gotten himself into. It doesn’t really matter what he wants, though.

“I will.”

No matter how many times Kyuhyun tells himself he shouldn’t go back near the small camp, his feet don’t seem to listen to him. More often than not he goes out just to run, to get rid of the tenseness or the gnawing restlessness in his gut, only to find himself hovering near the grove the other pack is occupying. At first he tries to tell himself that it’s only natural, wanting to watch intruders on their territory, but he knows straight from the beginning that the explanation doesn’t quite cover it.

Whatever it is, he refuses to think of it. Instead he constantly ends up close to the camp, tries to subtly spy on them and always stay above the wind not to be noticed. He thinks he’s good at that, he has always been, but the nagging feeling of possibly being found out is still always somewhere in the back of his skull. Maybe he is in it for the thrill? He shakes the whole idea out of his head as soon as it appears.

This time is no different. He simply goes out for a run and finds himself at the small creek that runs past the camp. On an impulse he shifts back to his human form and begins following the trail of water for a while. It’s a peaceful place and he doesn’t think much of it when he drops down on his knees on the soft grass to get a sip of cool water from the stream. He inhales the clear air deeply, bringing his face close to the water to splash water on his face, to drink in long, greedy gulps.

Suddenly something catches his attention. A sound.

Careful not to make any noise, Kyuhyun gets up on his feet again, focusing on his surroundings with all his senses. Then he hears it again, the strange sound. It’s almost like humming. Briefly he considers turning back into wolf form but then again, he can’t really imagine that any dangerous predator would be out there humming a happy melody to themselves. He is plenty lethal in human form, he can take on whatever is hiding there.

Still he’s careful when he moves closer, shifting so he knows he’s under the wind and can’t be spotted easily. It means he needs to go around a bit, but he knows where the stranger is and he isn’t intending on being found out. Finally he peeks into the small clearing from between the thick trees and plants, biting his lower lip softly in concentration.

Zhou Mi. It’s the person who saved him and dragged him back to their camp out of sheer friendliness – or stupidity, he hasn’t quite decided yet – and tried to take care of him. Something shifts inside Kyuhyun but he pushes it back, focusing on keeping his breathing as silent as possible as he watches.

There, Zhou Mi is sitting next to the creek, his feet in the water as he makes little splashes, smiling to himself. It’s almost heart-warming, the sight, and against his will Kyuhyun catches himself smiling as well. The tune the other man is humming is something cheery and almost recognizable, even if it keeps on slipping Kyuhyun’s grasp whenever he tries to identify it. It’s relaxing, though, something he could listen to for ages.

“You don’t need to hide. I know you’re there.” The words shake Kyuhyun out of his reverie quite effectively. He wouldn’t be surprised if his jaw had dropped low enough to hit the ground. He’s certain he hasn’t made a sound, he knows he isn’t visible from where the other male is sitting, and he also knows he can’t smell him when the wind is blowing the opposite direction, bringing Zhou Mi’s scent right to Kyuhyun with intoxicating force.

He’d been found out but he has no idea how. Maybe he had indeed made a mistake and stepped on something to make noise? Even if he is still quite certain he hadn’t, he knows better than that and he is perfectly capable of hiding if he wants to. “Uhm,” Kyuhyun steps out of his hideout, but he still doesn’t know what to say. He simply stands there a few feet away from the other male, awkward and thinking of ways to react.

“Are you feeling better by now?” Zhou Mi asks with honest curiosity laced in his voice, meeting Kyuhyun’s eyes before he gives the other man a long once-over from head to toe. “You don’t have the bruises anymore.” He remarks happily, his lips stretching to a genuine smile as he’s obviously very glad about the lack of cuts and bruises this time.

Somehow that makes Kyuhyun feel self-conscious, although it isn’t like this is the first time Zhou Mi sees him naked. He tells himself to get a grip and stop reacting so strangely to normal things. “Yeah they’re gone.” Kyuhyun coughs a bit embarrassedly and steps closer to crouch down next to the other man.

Zhou Mi offers him another honest smile, shifting a little to face him better. He still keeps his feet in the water though, the loose legs of his pants wrapped up around his knees so that they won’t get wet. “I hope your pack didn’t think we harmed you.” He prompts softly, tilting his head in an inquiry.

“No. I told them it wasn’t true,” Kyuhyun answers promptly, shifting his gaze down so he wouldn’t keep on staring at the uncovered skin and those endlessly long legs. How ironic is this; he sits here without anything to cover his naked form and simultaneously is drawn to some visible skin on another male’s legs? He shakes his head a little to clear it. Something he seems to be doing a hell lot these days. Especially to ignore his inner wolf laughing at him.

It doesn’t seem that Zhou Mi notices any of his internal struggle, still smiling like it’s the only thing he knows to do. “Good. We’re not here to fight.” He points out what he had already said before, underlining it as the most important thing. Which it is, obviously. They don’t seem to have any desire for another fight or bloody wars over territory.

“I talked to my alpha.” Kyuhyun speaks suddenly after a short silence. Zhou Mi doesn’t say anything but only arches an eyebrow questioningly, and Kyuhyun takes it as a sign to go on with an explanation. “You can stay until your alpha is able to run properly.” He looks up just in time to see a bright sparkle light in those deep chocolate eyes, and no matter how hard he tries he can’t stop the flip in his stomach or the strange curl of interest from his wolf.

Zhou Mi smiles like the sun. There is no other way to describe it. “Thank you!” He bursts out, even clapping his hands together as if to express his joy. It isn’t Kyuhyun’s fault if he finds it completely and utterly endearing.

“Don’t thank me. I’m just the messenger,” Kyuhyun mumbles, disturbed by his own train of thought. He isn’t here to act like a stupid, silly pup. Actually, he has no idea what he is doing here in the first place. None of this makes any sense. “And you’re supposed to be out of here as soon as you can.” He adds hurriedly, not wanting to appear like his pack is weak and incapable of defending its territory.

“Don’t worry. We will.” Zhou Mi’s expression doesn’t fade in the slightest, contrarily he seems even happier than before as he turns a little to look over the river. The silence stretches on just long enough for Kyuhyun to begin feeling slightly uncomfortable, before Zhou Mi breaks it again. “You’ll miss us though! We brought something new and fresh to your routines.” He speaks it as a fact, not as a question.

Kyuhyun grumbles. His wolf might’ve growled a little disapprovingly inside of him at the thought of the small pack leaving, but no one else needs to know any of that. “What if we like routines?” He asks stubbornly, just for the sake of denying everything.

“You do. But you also think this is exciting,” Zhou Mi points out confidently. “Unless,” he smirks, “you’re excited to see me.” There’s something nearly devious in the sparkle in his eyes, as if he knows he managed to catch the other male red-handed.

Kyuhyun freezes. Completely. Before the denial bursts out of him. “Of course I’m not! Why would I be!”

“Yes, why would you be,” Zhou Mi nods. When he turns his head away, Kyuhyun doesn’t miss the smile lingering on his lips. That bastard.

Somehow, whether by luck or misfortune, Kyuhyun never has to linger around the campsite for long before he gets company. Zhou Mi seems to have some kind of inner radar for spotting Kyuhyun, since he refuses to believe he makes so much noise or suddenly is so much worse at hiding. He could hide from his pack mates if he so wished, why not from some wolf he barely knows?

Usually he at least manages to keep a part of his dignity and pretend that he intended to get caught sneaking around the camp. Not always though. Not when he somehow ends up actually walking the whole distance from his home to the grove occupied by the small pack. He practically walks right into Zhou Mi, only realizing his presence when he collides with something soft that smells particularly delicious. He jumps back, enough sense present in his mind to realize it isn’t considered polite to stand there sniffing someone.

“Oh you’re dressed this time!” Zhou Mi seems more than surprised, his eyes widening as he takes in Kyuhyun’s appearance. It might’ve sounded weird … okay it does sound weird, but he has a point since thus far Kyuhyun has always run over as a wolf.

For a second Kyuhyun hesitates, even somewhat embarrassed. How can it be he is more embarrassed being clothed than being only in his skin? None of this makes sense and nothing has made sense ever since these strangers have appeared. “Uhm. I walked.” He explains with a small awkward shrug and a wave of his hand. “I didn’t think I’d come this far.”

The words gain him a bright, stunning smile from Zhou Mi. “Oh I am just that irresistible! You want something to eat?” He switches topics easily and only now Kyuhyun notices that he is holding dried meat in his hand, presenting it almost like an offering. The wolf side of Kyuhyun rumbles contently due to the gesture but he shakes his head nevertheless. “No thanks.”

Zhou Mi doesn’t seem to mind, only explains something further about how Heechul doesn’t like having dried meat in the camp so they hide it in a tree some steps away and now he just came to raid the hideout since he’s hungry. When he’s done there is only a short pause before he speaks up again. “Geng is healing,” Zhou Mi informs even if Kyuhyun hasn’t asked anything about it. “He can already move much better than before.”

Kyuhyun nods slowly. The other male has informed him about the alpha’s condition every time they’ve met so it’s nothing new to hear about it. Yet, there is something that keeps on bugging Kyuhyun and something he can’t quite place. “He… is there something weird about him? I mean,” he shrugs, “we are supposed to heal a lot faster than this.” It’s something he has wanted to know for longer, and by this point he doesn’t care if he sounds impolite.

Zhou Mi’s nose scrunches up disapprovingly. For a moment it seems like he’ll dodge the topic and not say anything at all, but then the words begin to flow. He tells about the fight that forced their group to run up north, that killed off many of their pack and separated them from the rest. He tells about the desperation, how everyone fought until they were bleeding and hurt. How they rested only for as long as strictly necessary and ran, ran for their lives. No one had known how badly Han Geng had been wounded internally, not before the long run had aggravated his wounds and immobilized him.

It all makes Kyuhyun kind of speechless. Thankfully the silence between them is comfortable enough, and Zhou Mi seems focused on poking the ground with a twig he’s picked up. Kyuhyun kind of wishes he would have the courage to sit a bit closer to the other man, since now it feels kind of awkward to reach out to pat his knee. “I’m sorry.” He wants to say so much more, how he feels bad for the whole pack for being forced through so much, and especially bad for Zhou Mi for some unclear reasons. But not being an exactly eloquent speaker, he can’t find the words.

It’s clear that the few words he says come straight from his heart though, and that is exactly what Zhou Mi appreciates. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He shrugs a little, reaching for more of the dried meat he has been chewing on every now and then. Again he reaches out his hand to offer Kyuhyun some, the friendly smile back on his lips. “Want some food now?”

Automatically Kyuhyun reaches out to take a few slices, nodding as a thank you. He tries to ignore the way those deep eyes lighten up in response. And certainly the way something twitches inside of him at that.

Time passes. Too much time. Siwon knows his pack is getting restless, no matter how much he tries to ignore that. He knows there are talks, and that some young wolves even go as far as to say he is wrong in his decision to let the pack stay instead of driving them away. They are only five, anyway, how hard can it be to crush them or force them to leave? Still, Siwon stays firm in his decision.

Until he walks right into a fight about the intruding pack. He can hear voices already from afar but that is no news, with hearing as sensitive as theirs the whole village can be full of noise at any given time of the day. What catches his attention though is how the words are spoken, the gush of aggression and anger clearly palpable. He knows when his wolves are close to losing their temper.

“You’re only saying that because you want something from them! That, or you’re a fucking coward.” Even if Siwon didn’t hear Soonkyu’s voice, he could identify the members of his pack already based on their scent and the bond that ties them all together into one functional unit. He doesn’t need to hear Kyuhyun’s voice to know he is the one being addressed and instantly he quickens his steps. Soonkyu will speak her mind when angry, but despite her stubbornness she will be no match for a furious Kyuhyun who can rip her to pieces. Literally.

Siwon steps in right when Kyuhyun already raises his hand almost threateningly, clearly holding back from doing something stupid. One can see how tense he is, how every muscle in his body is close to snapping as he holds still. “Say that again and it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” Kyuhyun growls lowly, a displeased snarl accompanying the words. Soonkyu already opens her mouth to protest, and that is when Siwon speaks up.

“What is going on here!?” Siwon puts his authority into the question and he can see how the two flinch and withdraw further from each other that very second. They are clearly embarrassed being caught like that, and their anger is slowly draining away when faced with their alpha. Neither of them answers though, they rather look down at the ground and shift awkwardly. For a moment Siwon just waits, before clearing his throat to signal he demands an answer.

“We had a disagreement,” Kyuhyun answers instantly without looking up at the older man. There still is tenseness in his posture and it’s obvious he isn’t as calm as the girl is. Kyuhyun has always been harder to control than many others, ever since he was a puppy. He’s obedient and never intentionally challenges his alpha, but he’s also a stubborn personality and his wolf is strong in him.

Siwon inclines his head a little, shifting his gaze to Soonkyu instead. “About what?” He demands, determined to get to the bottom of this. He can’t have his wolves attacking each other randomly and if there is unresolved tension, it is his problem. He needs to get to the bottom of this. This time there is a shorter pause before he gets an answer to his question.

“About,” Soonkyu lifts her chin, obviously deciding that she can stand by her opinion. They’ve never been punished for their opinions or disagreeing with each other, as long as everything’s kept at least remotely civil. Violence in the village is not tolerated, not under Siwon’s command. “The pack. I think they need to go. They’ve hunted on our land for long enough and given nothing back,” she explains further, nearly spitting the words out as she glances at Kyuhyun.

Kyuhyun doesn’t react to that at all though, and inwardly Siwon sighs. He feels like a father with troubled teenagers who don’t know how to solve their disagreements without an adult. Even if both Soonkyu and Kyuhyun are very much adult and should be able to control themselves. “And what about you?” Siwon turns to look at Kyuhyun, arching an expressive eyebrow questioningly.

“What did they ever do to bother us?” Kyuhyun doesn’t even miss a beat before answering and unlike Soonkyu, he looks up and straight into Siwon’s eyes. Only for a second though, before averting his gaze a little bit to show he isn’t going to challenge the other male. He simply isn’t afraid of him, either. “They only took what they needed, nothing more. They’ve never approached us. Why should we attack them? That would be just stupid.”

“Because it’s our territory and – ” Soonkyu can’t help but to cut in but she is silenced effectively with a raised hand from Siwon.

He frowns, his eyes still directed at Kyuhyun. “I think it is me who decides what is stupid and what not. Especially when it concerns our pack and our territory. Understood?” He puts stress on the last word and doesn’t turn away before he gets a stiff nod from Kyuhyun. Then he looks at Soonkyu instead and she hurries to nod as well.

“Now stop arguing about it. This is final.” Siwon’s voice doesn’t leave any room for arguments or speculation. This matter is finished.

The news travel fast. By the nightfall, everyone in the village knows about the argument and what happened. Especially since Siwon has taken matters into his own hands in the end. No one comes to ask Siwon anything though, and he doesn’t seek company either. Instead he retreats home, sits on the floor leaning against the wall and focuses on his thoughts. It doesn’t surprise him to hear soft footsteps after dinner though, and when Sungmin kneels down beside him and offers him a bowl of stew, he takes it with a grateful smile.

For a moment he eats, quite enjoying the silent companionship. Finally he tilts his head and looks straight at the other male, not bothered by the darkness in the slightest. “You heard?” He asks softly even if it’s useless, he knows very well what the answer will be. Thus he doesn’t gain one to the question spoken out loud, but to the question he left unvoiced.

“Kyuhyun is right. They didn’t do anything.” Sungmin calmly points out the obvious, resting his arms on his knees as he crouches down next to his alpha. He pauses only for a second, before he goes on again. “Soonkyu is also right. They’re on our territory.” Technically, that is enough reason to rip them apart and drive them away. Then again, Siwon has never been one of the most traditional leaders and tries to avoid bloodshed when it isn’t called for.

After another pause in discussion, Siwon sighs barely audibly. He sets the half-eaten food down on the floor next to himself, suddenly not all that hungry anymore. “Do you think I should attack?” He asks straight out. Everyone knows he values Sungmin’s opinion above anyone else’s, but even if he asks he doesn’t blindly obey the man.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do.” Sungmin gives a soft smile as he finally sits down on the floor. He appears to be completely calm, but Siwon can sense the restlessness, the way this topic is bothering him. “But something needs to be done. The wolves are restless.”

Siwon doesn’t like the decision he is making but he doesn’t like any of the alternatives, either. He knows that as long as he lets the other pack wander their territory and won’t do anything about it, his own underlings will keep on complaining and getting more and more agitated. The last thing he wants is some internal fights within his own. “Alright.” He decides with a nod. “Tomorrow morning.”

“We attack?” Sungmin asks even though he knows the answer. They still speak out loud even when they know exactly what is going through the other one’s mind and words aren’t even necessary. Old habits die hard.

Siwon only grumbles low in his chest, his wolf showing how displeased he is.

“Go tell the pack.”

Next Chapter.

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@DW.

[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 2/9

rabenhorst — Sat, 29 Nov 2014 20:08:29 GMT

That is only the beginning, if one asks Kyuhyun. He’s strangely grumpy for the following days, unable to explain where the mood swings come from. Deep down inside he knows it has something to do with the intruding pack and he’s convinced that if they just get rid of them things will return back to normal. That is the best possible solution. Attack and force them to leave, there, nothing to worry about.

Except he knows it isn’t his decision. That frustrates him even more and it almost drives him out of his skin, makes him restless and unable to stay still. After the second sleepless night he decides he needs to burn it off. Maybe it will calm him down at least somewhat. Usually it helps, running until he can hardly inhale, his lungs burning for air and his muscles hurting from the effort.

Kyuhyun sneaks out of his home early in the morning when nearly everyone is still asleep. He knows that if he’ll go towards the lake first he will probably avoid being seen, and that is exactly what he wants right now. Answering some stupid questions isn’t high on his list, so better not bump into anyone.

He sheds his clothes just outside the village, bundling them up so he can tuck them up into a tree where they will be safe until his return. Then, he just lets the change ripple over him. Morphing always hurts but it isn’t unbearable, it’s more like growing pains when bones shift and fur replaces smooth skin, his structure going through a complete reformation. He’s so used to the tinge of pain that he can ignore it almost completely, focusing on how he wants it to be over already.

Finally, he runs. His large paws make almost no sound as they thud on the ground, only some dry leaves shuffling and small twigs cracking under his steps. At first he makes leeway towards the lake, happy to run on open ground to warm up his muscles. Maybe he should jump into the water later on, even if he doesn’t like how it makes him smell like a wet dog. Right now, he steers away from the shore and instead delves into the forest. It’s like a game, dodging trees and running as fast as he possibly can. He allows his senses to guide him, uncaring as to where he’s headed.

Until he almost runs into someone. Not quite literally, seeing that he notices the strange scent already a bit further away and tries to quickly change directions. Shit shit shit. How did he ever manage to run straight towards the intruding pack he wanted to avoid at all costs? Ironic, he thinks, and just his luck. Maybe he could still manage to get away unnoticed, if he just runs fast enough. He can hope.

Kyuhyun’s mind is racing and he quickens his pace instinctively, trying to focus on the sounds to find out if he has been noticed. All he can hear is his heartbeat, along with the normal sounds of a forest. He even chances a look back, tilting his bulky head to catch a glimpse –

Until the solid ground suddenly vanishes from beneath his paws.

Startled, Kyuhyun releases a panicked yelp as he feels his balance disappear, the ground give in and his whole world tumble upside down. Suddenly he’s rolling down a steep hill, unable to stop his fall before he smashes right into large rocks that are like waiting for him right there. Sharp pain slashes through him and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut to hold back any further sounds that might slip from him.

Just great. This is exactly what he wanted. Get cut and bruised like a dumb kid just because he’s stupid enough to not watch where he’s going. He shifts carefully, grateful that at least nothing seems to be broken. Except for his pride. Which is basically dying, thank you very much.

Slowly he starts to move, tentative to see how much damage he managed to do to himself. He’s thankful that his kind heals fast, at least, since the smallest bruises and bumps are already practically gone. But there are some nasty cuts as well, on his back and his sides, and he has a feeling he sprained his ankle in the process.

Wincing, he reverses the change, until he lays there panting in human form. Instantly he brings his long fingers to his side, grimacing at the sticky feeling of blood. This will take hours to heal. Things are getting better and better.

Kyuhyun barely manages to finish that thought before a voice startles him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?” In a split second Kyuhyun’s eyes snap up, right into the worried face of someone he doesn’t know. Or that’s wrong, actually, since he knows the man. Kind of. This is the tall man he saw when he accompanied Siwon to meet the intruding pack a few days ago, the man who just stood back and watched.

“Do I look alright?” Is the first thing Kyuhyun manages to groan out, from between clenched teeth. He tries to avoid the other man’s searching gaze the best he can. How amazing, now he’s lying here stark naked right in front of someone he had no desire to ever meet, but rather wanted to get rid of. His life sucks, he’s certain of that right now. But the look in the other man’s eyes is only honestly worried when he chances a glance at him. At least something.

“Well, you look like you could use a little help,” the stranger smiles genuinely, and before Kyuhyun even knows it he’s crouching down next to him and inspecting his wounds. Now, Kyuhyun is pretty comfortable in his own skin and doesn’t mind being naked in front of people, not really. How could he, he has to strip to change into wolf form if he doesn’t want to rip his clothes apart. But he isn’t exactly comfortable with a stranger – even an attractive one, he curses himself for this thought – poking his side and checking his wounds while he’s as exposed as possible.

Besides, he has no idea why the other man – the other wolf – hasn’t just killed him already. He’s from an obviously hostile pack and hasn’t showed any signs of friendliness, and he could be there in bad intentions for all they know. “Just kill me now,” he growls defiantly, knowing he’s easy prey. Maybe he would serve as a warning and then Siwon would surely get enraged and attack the small bunch to rip them to bits. Sounds mildly comforting at least.

“No,” the tall man shakes his head a little, still inspecting Kyuhyun’s injuries gently. The soft touch of those warm palms feels kind of nice, he has to admit. A thought he banishes from his mind the second it appears there, deeming it completely improper. “We’re not here to harm you!” The man smiles at him again, sneaking an arm around his shoulders as if getting ready to lift him up. “I’m Zhou Mi. And I will help you.”

That now is a surprise. Kyuhyun is flabbergasted, he can’t deny. “W-what?” He stutters, half of his mind directed to struggling to free himself from the other man’s grasp. Zhou Mi might be strong although he looks thin and lanky, but it doesn’t mean Kyuhyun wants to be carried of all things. Finally Zhou Mi seems to take the hint and only helps Kyuhyun stand, allowing him to lean his weight on him.

“Let me take you to our camp,” Zhou Mi suggests, but something in his firm tone and the stubborn set of his jaw tells Kyuhyun it isn’t a question, it’s a statement. He’s going whether he wants it or not. The sun is already setting, diving into the horizon, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to run with his bruises. Still…

Kyuhyun doesn’t have many chances to disagree. Not before he’s already taken along no matter what he says. And if he thinks that the strong arm supporting him around his shoulders feels kind of nice, no one needs to know that.

Kyuhyun hardly even manages to re-think his decisions before he’s already dragged to a small camp that is surprisingly close to where he fell. Thankfully. He isn’t certain if he could have walked another step anymore, his bruises aching and his whole body like on fire even though he tries to ignore that. It doesn’t stop him from giving Zhou Mi long suspicious looks. What is this? It isn’t like it’s common to drag complete strangers – wounded or not – into your camp you are supposed to protect.

It seems that Zhou Mi deems him worth protecting though, even more than his camp.

“We’re only five, you know.” Zhou Mi smiles almost encouragingly as he crouches down in front of Kyuhyun, after throwing a thin blanket on his shoulders. For a second, Kyuhyun considers jumping up and trying to make a run for it, but he decides that it would be way too exhausting and just wraps the cloth around his naked form tighter. Besides, there’s nothing but sincerity in Zhou Mi’s sparkling eyes, so it’s easy to trust him, clever or not.

And of course there was the fact that his pack only consists of five wolves, which Kyuhyun knew beforehand and Zhou Mi just confirmed. Kyuhyun might’ve been more intimidated if there’d been a bigger group around him but this, this he believes is not so bad. At least he will have a chance to escape if he manages to regain his strength a bit.

Zhou Mi seems to take his silence as a good sign since a moment later there is a hand tentatively grabbing his wrist, pulling him up on his feet. “Let’s get you some food, alright. Can you move?” Zhou Mi looks at him worried, and Kyuhyun supposes that if he had said ‘no’ Zhou Mi would probably carry him. He only grunts as a response though, shaking the long fingers off his arm as he slowly follows the taller man.

Kyuhyun discovers that if he walks very, very slowly it barely even hurts at all. Still, the way he fell on those sharp rocks ensured that the deeper wounds would need hours to be better, and he doesn’t know if he wants to risk changing again before making sure there is no more damage.

When they reach the small campfire, Kyuhyun can easily spot two figures sitting beside it. The added light doesn’t really do anything for him, he could’ve seen them even in nearly pitch black darkness, but this way he can make out colours and distances better so he isn’t complaining. The redheaded guard he already met before gives him a long, evaluating look that quite resembles a scowl. “Why are you bringing him here?” He asks Zhou Mi, making sure to emphasize the pronoun enough to practically spit it out.

Zhou Mi ignores him though and instead turns to the other man by the campfire, his head bowed lightly in respect. “I found him in the forest and he’s hurt. I hoped we could spare him some food? He won’t cause any troubles.” Distantly Kyuhyun wonders how Zhou Mi can make such promises so lightheartedly when bringing him to their camp obviously was a stupid idea, even if he is hurt and outnumbered. Then again, he surprises even himself when he realizes that he wouldn’t have caused troubles even if he could have.

The man Zhou Mi addressed looks at Kyuhyun for a long while, not saying a single word. Long enough to make Kyuhyun want to squirm, but at least it gives him time to look at the man in turn, as subtly as he can. Which isn’t much. The man’s hair is almost frighteningly blond, giving him a slightly ethereal edge, even if otherwise he’s strong and muscular, his almond eyes dark and unreadable. His physical appearance is completely secondary though, since what everyone notices first is the clear authority radiating from him.

He’s the alpha of this small pack. Kyuhyun knows it the second he senses the man’s presence. It’s always easy to sense how dominant a wolf is, and this is a clear case.

It feels like much longer, even if it’s only two minutes at most, before the alpha speaks up. “Alright. Take a seat, stranger. You are welcome to stay the night.” His voice is surprisingly soft and gentle, but there’s no mistaking the authority hidden within.

The words make Zhou Mi practically beam and he turns towards Kyuhyun as he gestures for him to sit down next to the large log lying two feet away from the fire, nearly perpendicular to the one the alpha and the redhead are sitting on. “Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi pronounces the name carefully, as if both making sure he gets it right and let the other two hear it well, “this is Han Geng. The head of the camp. And this is Heechul.” He gestures towards the two, and despite the redhead’s – Heechul’s – obviously hostile glare his smile doesn’t fade in the slightest.

“I’m going to get you something to eat!” Zhou Mi announces, before vanishing into the shadows. It leaves Kyuhyun alone with the two strangers and he doesn’t exactly feel comfortable in his skin right now. He’s itching to run away, anything to get rid of the awkward situation and the way he’s being stared at.

Thankfully the silence is broken when Han Geng addresses him a few heartbeats later. “What happened to you?” He sounds polite, and even honestly curious.

Kyuhyun might blush lightly as he thinks back to his foolishness, how he managed to hurt himself like a cub on his first run. That is definitely not cool. Nothing he’s proud of. “I… fell.” He answers curtly, careful to keep his eyes trained on the ground next to his knees. He tries to sit as unmoving as possible, leaning on the tree trunk, giving his wounds time to heal. “Unfortunately straight on some rocks that knocked me out for a moment. Then that idio- I mean, Zhou Mi found me. And dragged me here.”

If Kyuhyun had to guess, he would’ve never thought that by almost calling their friend an idiot he manages to make a friend. His jaw nearly drops from surprise when Heechul actually gives him a lopsided grin, glancing affectionately into the direction Zhou Mi disappeared into. “He is an idiot. But you can thank that idiot for bringing you here since it’s a whole lot more comfortable to sleep in a camp and not starve to death.”

The idiot in question manages to just walk back then, grumbling playfully at his friend. “I heard that, Heechul. Next time I find you lying somewhere I’ll make sure to leave you there.” He threatens even though they all know that’s just empty words with no force behind them. Heechul just laughs, and Zhou Mi ignores him in favour of sitting down next to Kyuhyun, only a few inches between them. “Here. It’s just something simple. We’re not exactly farming land here or anything, so we only get as much.”

“Thanks.” Kyuhyun tries to aim for a smile as he accepts the bowl of food given to him. It’s a simple wooden cup, rough and obviously self-made. That makes sense, too. There’s only so much five persons – or wolves – can carry on them and of course they’d try to make everything they can themselves.

Kyuhyun has nothing against a simple meal of roots and berries, even some meat that tastes of smoke and isn’t quite well done. It’s still nearly heavenly, and his stomach underlines that with loud grumbles. That is the only sound except for the silent crackling of the fire, and he is acutely aware of three pairs of eyes on him. How awkward. Thankfully it doesn’t last too long.

“I am not here to challenge your alpha.” Han Geng speaks suddenly, gazing at the fire instead of any of the others. “We will leave when we’re ready for it.” It isn’t a question, not a suggestion, he isn’t even asking what Kyuhyun thinks of it. He simply announces things how they are and there will be no buts. Kyuhyun doesn’t wonder how the man has earned the respect of his pack. It is obvious in the tone of his voice, in the way he emits authority without being intimidating.

Slowly, Kyuhyun nods. He knew it’d make no sense to comment on that so he chooses a different route instead, asking what he is most curious about right now. “Where do you come from?” They aren’t from anywhere close, that much is certain.

It’s Zhou Mi who explains, almost eagerly. “We come from the south. I don’t know if you heard about the battles there, bloody wars over territories. That drove us up north.” He smiles a little, but there is certain melancholy laced into it, mirrored by his eyes.

“We are a bigger pack but we lost many in the battle. And many got wounded,” Heechul goes on without being asked, a deep frown on his face as he obviously doesn’t like thinking back to it, the pain still too fresh. He probably doesn’t even realize it when he brings a hand to Han Geng’s shoulder, the touch gentle and almost protective. Only now Kyuhyun notices that Han Geng is wounded, too, deep cuts on his side gauzed and only partially hidden by his jacket. Those are no small injuries. “Now we’re headed north to find the rest of them, if they ever make it.”

Again Kyuhyun can only nod. So they had been a bigger bunch and then ended up attacked and now only five remained, the rest lost or killed, or too wounded to move. Somehow the thought makes his stomach turn and he loses all of his appetite. Thankfully he had almost finished his food already so there isn’t much lost. He keeps the bowl between his palms though, just to have something to hold on to.

“Besides us three, there’s Jinki and Donghae. They’re keeping watch,” Zhou Mi explains with a smile, obviously trying to lift the mood at least somewhat by saying something, anything. “Or in their case, Donghae is on watch and Jinki is trying to watch him to make sure he stays focused.” It is obvious from the teasing glimmer in his eyes, as well as the light tone of his voice, that these five are all close to each other.

Probably the hardships have forced them to rely more on each other, trust each other and fight for each other. Suddenly Kyuhyun feels a pang of envy at that. True enough, he cares for every member of his pack and would defend any of them. But he doesn’t feel like he belongs this much, is wound as tightly into the pack as these five are bound together. It seems like they would go down fighting for any of their friends.

Zhou Mi seems determined to ease the atmosphere though and as he keeps on talking about everything and nothing, he slowly manages to get everyone else involved too. Kyuhyun keeps silent for most of the time but he can’t help but chuckle lowly at some of the things Zhou Mi says, along with the way he is wildly gesturing around when he gets excited over something. Heechul is a talker, too, he sometimes launches into long explanations and doesn’t let anyone else get a word in between. While Han Geng stays silent most of the time, he takes part in it and by the end of their chat he is relaxed enough to even laugh gruffly at something the other two are up to.

It’s obvious that Han Geng is more tired than usual, though, and after some time he gets up from the ground. Heechul instantly jumps on his feet to help him but Han Geng only pushes his hand away with an annoyed little huff. His pride isn’t going to allow anyone helping him stand, especially not in front of a stranger they don’t really know yet. Heechul bites his lower lip but steps back, hovering close enough to help if needed but still respecting Han Geng’s personal space.

They don’t go far, only a few steps to the shelter they have built for sleeping. Essentially those are three, all consisting of a few large branches of a tree supported against a steady enough pine to serve as a slight protection against rain, a few other branches laid down on the ground to form something to lie on. Apparently one of these makeshift sheds is for Han Geng and Heechul. Kyuhyun wonders if Zhou Mi sleeps in one of them alone or if he shares it with one of his friends. He doesn’t ask, though. It isn’t his place.

For a moment they keep silent, and when Kyuhyun speaks he doesn’t even realize it at first. ”Why did you save me?” He asks the flames, refusing to turn his gaze even an inch.

Zhou Mi sounds honestly hurt, and Kyuhyun senses how he turns to look at him, even if he can’t see it. “I couldn’t have just left you there!” He exclaims, a bit too loudly considering that his friends are lying only a few feet away, trying to sleep.

The words burst out of Kyuhyun before he manages to hold them back. “Yes! You could have. You should have.” The other man simply frowns at that, and somehow that frustrates Kyuhyun more than he is even willing to admit. “What if I had wanted to harm you? Your alpha is obviously injured, I could’ve been here to kill him.”

At that, Zhou Mi laughs. “It’s not that easy to get Geng. He is stronger than you think.”

Kyuhyun grumbles, chancing a glance towards the other man. “You’re missing my point.” He should’ve known it wouldn’t stay as a glance. Resigned, he crosses his arms on his knees and leans his cheeks against them, not averting his eyes anymore.

“I’m not. I just don’t agree,” Zhou Mi smiles, honestly this time, and it makes Kyuhyun wonder how a person can convey so many different emotions with a simple smile. It’s like Zhou Mi has perfected that art. “You’re a good person. You wouldn’t hurt anyone when they’re wounded. Or assassinate anyone.”

Now that is flattering. At the same time, Kyuhyun can’t get over the naïve trust that is placed in him, completely dumbfounded since he has never ever met anyone like this. “You don’t even know me,” he bursts out before he can think twice. Only to be surprised by the answer, once again.

“Don’t I?” Zhou Mi asks but somehow it feels like he already knows the answer. Kyuhyun does not reply.

It seems like a cue to end the discussion though and Zhou Mi gets up, getting rid of the small bowl before coming back to drag Kyuhyun along again. He explains that Donghae and Jinki won’t be sleeping that night and that Kyuhyun can have one of the free sleeping shelters just for himself, to get better fast as he puts it.

They don’t talk anything more, and only a few heartbeats later Zhou Mi is already sleeping in his makeshift bed. Kyuhyun, though, needs hours to fall asleep. Even when he does, a certain smile and a set of dark eyes keep on invading his dreams.

You don’t even know me.

Don’t I?

Kyuhyun doesn’t sleep long, but even a couple of hours of rest is enough for his body to pick up the healing, fix whatever is damaged, and when he wakes up he only feels slightly sore. For a second he panics, waking up in a strange place and surrounded by strange scents, but then the happenings of the previous night come crashing down on him. The run, the fall, the food, the talk, the gentle smile and sparkling eyes…

Quickly he shakes his head to get rid of such unorthodox thoughts. He clearly hit his head when he fell if he starts to entertain ideas like that. At least, that is the only explanation he is willing to believe, even if his brain helpfully tries to supply him with more possibilities. Those are all silenced, mercilessly.

Staying in here would bring just more problems, Kyuhyun decides and tries to sneak out of the sleeping shelter as silently as he possibly can. He knows that if any of the others are awake he will sound like a rhino and there is no way in hell he’ll be able to leave unnoticed. But if they are asleep… well maybe he stands a chance.

For once luck is on his side and even if someone hears him, no one stops him. He jogs a bit further away from the camp before he allows the turn to come over him, switching into his wolf form. It is slightly more painful than usual, but he knows that it’s because of the fall and the effect will be gone soon enough. Now he just needs to get back home, as soon as possible.

Next Chapter.

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I hope you liked :)

@DW.

[fic] Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi – SJM – The Path Untraveled – Chapter 1/9

rabenhorst — Tue, 25 Nov 2014 18:56:07 GMT

Title: The Path Untraveled
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17? (overall)
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Zhou Mi
Other characters: side!Han Geng/Heechul, Ryeowook, Sungmin, Siwon, a lot of brief mentions of others (suju and shinee, mainly)
Warnings: (overall) blood and violence, hunting etc.
Wordcount: 4316 words for this part (~37k overall)
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: For as long as Kyuhyun can remember life has been the same in their village. Yet when their monotonous life is disrupted, when another pack settles on their territory, Kyuhyun can’t help but be drawn to them. Drawn to one of them especially. (wolf shapeshifters!au)
Comments: This is for Eva ♥ I would’ve never finished this without her. Also, huge thanks to Becky, because without her I would’ve never started this, and to Piu, because without her I never would’ve posted this ♥ Lots of love to you all~
(I didn’t want to call this a werewolf au because they don’t really live by the moon or, well, go by many other werewolf legends either, but basically they shift into wolves so I guess you could call it that, too :3)

Sungmin hadn’t intended on running this far, not alone. He knows that there’s hardly any danger for him in these woods, not when he can practically kill anything that might attack him, bare handed at that. Still it’s never a good idea to go very far from the village alone. It’s been proven several times and it isn’t only the foolish kids that get hurt but even grown ups, those who are supposed to be able to take care of themselves.

Maybe it’s the fact he knows he shouldn’t be there that makes Sungmin pay closer attention to his senses, listen a little more carefully and take in the scents that float into his nose. He’s alert, and that is why he notices something is up before it’s too late. There are sounds, along with strange smell of something that doesn’t quite belong, and in a mere heartbeat Sungmin has already jumped up on his feet from where he has been kneeling next to a small pond.

Sungmin takes a quick look around before he decides to climb into the nearest tree, one that is only two steps away from him. It should give him enough shelter with its thick branches, and he knows the wind is in his favour as it is blowing against him, from the strangers. There is no way they will notice him if he’s careful enough.

Not even if they’re the Shadow People. In all his life, Sungmin has only heard stories of the frightening, ruthless monsters, but he has no desire to change that. As much as there’s a part of him that hopes for the opposite, is curious beyond belief, he could go all his life without seeing even a glimpse of them and he’d be happy. He knows they’re there, lurking on the edges of the forest, and that is where they belong.

These thoughts on mind, Sungmin presses himself against the rough bark of the tree. It scratches his naked skin, presses uncomfortably against his soft, vulnerable side, but he doesn’t care. He spreads his arms far and flattens himself against the tree, practically hugging the trunk as he peeks around it. Over the pond to the more infrequent part of the forest that clashes with a meadow.

Sungmin breathes a sigh of relief.

Wolves.

Not just any wolves. He knows those aren’t the regular kind, but the same as he. Same as his pack, back at the village. They aren’t exactly anything people talk about, nothing that fits any kind of folklore around. They aren’t werewolves, they aren’t shapeshifters, but something in between. Those stories always make Sungmin huff, though. They get more wrong than they get right and he has never identified himself in the stories old ladies tell in front of the fireplace to their little children to scare them witless.

No, Sungmin doesn’t like the lore. He doesn’t like the eerie glow that people try to cast over them when essentially they aren’t much different from them. He doesn’t like labelling what he is, either. He rather just is.

Until labelling comes necessary for moments like this. He has to describe the intruders in some way, and that is the best he manages. They are like him, like them. There are only five, varying in size even if they all seem to be more on the large side. They are also all male, and all but one are carrying small bundles of cloth, one even dragging something like two young birches bound together as a sleigh. They aren’t just on a run, they are moving. Otherwise they would be like Sungmin, have nothing with them but their skin.

Sungmin watches the wolves run by, making a mental note on the direction they are headed. Even after they are gone he stays still, unmoving, until his limbs are numb and he needs to get down from the tree. Easily he jumps down, never minding the scratches he gets from the sticks. He needs to get home, right now.

Smooth chestnut brown fur ripples over his body, over his bent back and muscular arms, his fingers sharpening into claws. Within minutes the young man has vanished and on his place stands a large wolf, throwing its bulky head from side to side as if trying to catch the last wafts of the pack just run by.

Then he runs. Runs like the wind.

“There is another pack running on our grounds.” Sungmin’s words sound almost too loud in the silence and he shifts, glancing around if there’s anyone to listen to them. It’s silly, he knows that anyone passing them by could hear them, especially with how sensitive their hearing is, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t learned some habits from when he still lived surrounded by humans. Even if it feels like a lifetime ago.

Siwon has been standing a few steps away from him, his back turned to him as he’s fixing a bow for one of the youngsters. The words catch his attention though, and he instantly spins around to face the smaller man. “Where?” One can see how he’s practically vibrating, thoughts frantic in his mind as he considers if he needs to do something to protect his territory, to protect his people.

“West from here.” Sungmin nods to the general direction where he had seen the wolves, going on without needing to be prompted. “It’s a small one, we could take them on easily. Five males, no females. They have bags.”

“No females?” Siwon repeats, stretching his back as he sets his work down. He rolls his shoulders, his muscles adjusting underneath tanned skin, flexing and tightening. “Sounds like a pack on the run.” That was what Sungmin had gathered, too. There’s no way anyone would just go on a hunt and drag anything with them.

Sungmin gives his leader a moment to think it over, waiting patiently. When he finally sees a conclusion settle on Siwon’s features, enough to make him relax just the tiniest bit, he prompts slowly. “What do we do?”

“We wait.” Siwon decides. “If they’re running from something, they could be long gone tomorrow. If they stay… we will see about it then.”

Sungmin nods. The alpha has made his decision.

It soon becomes obvious that the pack Sungmin saw isn’t going anywhere. There are more wolves that have seen a glimpse of them, some youngsters even almost running into them and only avoiding it in the last possible moment. They seem to have built a small camp a bit further away from the village and it’s getting harder and harder for them to ignore that. Especially the young wolves are getting restless, want to defend the territory and get rid of the intruders.

Siwon has ordered that they should not go near them, though. He has decided to give them a chance to leave on their own, and if it won’t happen he’ll make a new plan then. He’s prepared to be patient, but unfortunately not everyone shares his views. With every day that passes, there’s more and more grumbling about it. No one is directly opposing the alpha though, that is completely out of the question.

Sungmin is the only one who knows the reasoning behind the decision, but he isn’t about to go and shout it out from the figurative rooftops. Everyone should settle for the decision anyway, it isn’t his place to go and explain it to anyone.

Then Kyuhyun brings up the topic when they are dragging the body of a young deer to where they’ll gut it and chop it to pieces, and he isn’t going to say no to one of his closest friends, either.

“What’s up with that small bunch of wolves?” Kyuhyun asks as he practically rips the hind leg off the carcass, his fingers digging deep into bloody flesh. Blood splashes on his thighs and his chest, even some droplets on his face but neither of them notices. This is how they have always done it: first into bigger pieces by hand and then chopping it up neatly with the tools they had. Easy and effective, even if a little messy.

Sungmin gives a small shrug at first, grabbing the head of the deer so Kyuhyun can draw a long cut along its stomach. It’s still warm, was alive only moments prior. The odour of blood is strong in the air, but it only serves to make them hungry. “What do you mean? They’re just there. Camped out, I heard.” He pauses for a moment, waiting for Kyuhyun to get to removing the intestines. “Siwon wants to wait if they’ll leave by themselves.”

Kyuhyun makes a noncommittal noise, harrumphing a little as he sorts out all the edible bits and places them on large, carefully tanned animal skin. The other parts he throws to the side, for now. Ryeowook will come for them later on, and they will use the inedible intestines to make soap. The head will be boiled to make the meat come off, so that they get to use as much of the animal as they possibly can. “And what if they don’t?” Kyuhyun asks after a while, looking up at the other man. He wipes his sweaty forehead with his bloody hand, smears of it ending up even in his hair.

“I don’t know,” Sungmin admits, shrugging a little. “I guess we will go there and make them go. But your guess is as good as mine.” He knows Kyuhyun is sharper than that, can see that he isn’t telling him everything. And he appreciates it when Kyuhyun doesn’t press the matter and instead just finishes his job, straightening to his full height right after.

“Let’s get this back to the others. Maybe we’ll even get food sometime,” Kyuhyun smirks, rolling up the tanned skin with the edible intestines inside of it. Sungmin meanwhile uses the skin of the carcass to move all the meat back, as well as most of the bones.

The words make Sungmin laugh. “You’re always hungry.”

“Like a wolf,” Kyuhyun admits with a chuckle.

Later in the evening, after taking a quick swim in the nearby lake, they finally get to relax by the fire in the middle of the village square, getting some food in their stomachs. Ryeowook, quite a close friend of Kyuhyun’s, makes the best stew in existence and he’s usually in charge of feeding the whole bunch. Even if they try to share the work, it always seems to be Ryeowook who ends up doing the cooking if they actually want to eat something that isn’t burned or completely raw every once in a while.

They call the place they live in a village, but it doesn’t really have much a real village would have. Some of the houses are carved into huge trees, some are built in the branches and joined by thick ropes one can almost use as bridges. In the middle of the village there is an open area, an old forest clearing they had used until even the grass had stopped growing on the area they so frequently stepped on. There they have a place for a big campfire and there they also do most of the cooking. It’s easiest to feed almost thirty persons like that.

Dinner is most likely everyone’s favourite time of the day. Not only because they get to eat then, but also because that is when they all gather around the same fire, voices mixing as they talk over one another and explode into raucous laughter every now and then. It’s like one big happy family, only silencing when their alpha clears his throat to make announcements. Which doesn’t even happen all that often, seeing how they’ve gotten comfortable in their routines there.

This time, everyone is waiting for something though. Siwon walks there like any other day, his hair still a little damp from the swim he took earlier as well, to wash off the blood and dirt after the hunt. He has only thrown a vest and pants on, heading leisurely to get the food. Only when he settles on his place by the fire there is movement, everyone else practically climbing on top of each other to get to the food first. Of course in the end they end up getting food in the exact same order as always, but it doesn’t stop the youngsters from trying.

Sungmin watches the whole ordeal amused from his place next to Siwon, his own bowl of food between his palms. “They’re getting restless,” he remarks before he even realizes he’s saying it out loud. That could be taken several ways and for a second he hopes Siwon will misinterpret him and think he just means they haven’t taken the young ones out on a run in a while. He should’ve known better, though. Siwon can sense his intentions better than anyone and it is near to impossible to fool him.

“Their alpha should’ve contacted me already,” Siwon points out in a low rumble, so silently it goes unnoticed by everyone, the bunch still arguing over food and over the best seats as loudly as they can. Or almost everyone. Neither Siwon nor Sungmin notice how Kyuhyun freezes in his step, before practically melting into the shadows further behind them not to be noticed. He’s listening attentively.

“What do you think they’re trying?” Sungmin asks equally silently, his clear eyes searching for any signs on the other man’s face he could interpret to figure out what he’s thinking. “They’re not leaving at all, are they.” It isn’t even a question, but a statement.

Siwon gives him a humourless grin. “Why don’t we find out?” That is the end of discussion and he digs into his food with great appetite.

In the end, Siwon decides he won’t go alone to meet the possibly aggressive wolves, taking a few of his own along as a safety precaution. Sungmin wouldn’t have stayed back, unless it had been a direct order from an alpha to one of his pack. He also takes Shindong, one of his largest wolves, and Kyuhyun, who is sharper than is good for him, since he likes the two and feels they are useful more often than not.

Sungmin leads them all towards the place they assume the intruding pack is staying at. It’s surprisingly close to their village when they already catch the scent of the visitors, though, closer than any of them expected. It causes some restlessness amongst the small bunch, and Shindong is the first to start glancing around suspiciously.

Soon after they catch the scent, they also catch a sight of the foreign wolves. Or men, at this moment, even if that doesn’t make much of a difference. They all know what their second form is and it’s as natural as the first. These two, they don’t even try to hide. They are standing there in clear daylight, as if daring Siwon and his followers to come to them.

The redheaded man looks more delicate and fragile than he most likely is, and as soon as Siwon is a few steps away from them he straightens to meet them face to face. There’s an expressionless mask on his face, even if his eyes seem to reflect a hint of curiosity. “What do you want?” He asks in a surprisingly low voice. The man he’s with shifts but doesn’t say anything, instead staying on the background silently.

The nearly hostile question gets Siwon’s hackles curling, his instincts demanding him to show he is in charge. “This is my territory,” Siwon snarls. “You are intruding.”

When the redhead looks down, averting his eyes, he does the polite thing. The only thing he can do to avoid a battle and bloodshed. Yet one can see defiance in the set of his jaw, reluctance in the way he doesn’t lower his chin. “We do no harm.”

That isn’t exactly what Siwon wanted to hear and every member of his pack present can feel the way he tenses already before it’s visible in the straight line of his shoulders. “Take me to your alpha.” He commands, certain that the person he’s addressing isn’t the one in command, despite his attitude.

“No.”

Siwon’s eyebrows shoot up until they nearly vanish in the thick mop of his hair, and the others all take a step forward, as if they heard wrong. The answer shocks everyone. Except for the redhead who spoke and the tall man who is still leaning against the trunk of the large tree, only four steps away from them, watching intently.

Somehow that catches Kyuhyun’s attention and while everyone else is focused on the redheaded guard, he lets his eyes wander towards the second intruder. He’s a tall, thin man, black strands of hair falling on pale skin in an almost artistic mess. There’s a certain kind of elegant grace in the man, in the way he holds himself. And when their gazes meet briefly, there’s a curious glimmer in those deep brown eyes that make something inside Kyuhyun rumble.

It takes Kyuhyun only a second to inspect the other man, the same second it takes for Siwon to recover from his surprise. When Siwon speaks a growl bubbles up from his chest, his words resembling more a snarl than clear human speech. “I said, take me to your alpha,” he repeats from between clenched teeth.

The redhead raises his chin, looking straight past the muscular alpha male standing right in front of him. “And I said no.”

Everyone is holding their breath as they feel the clear violence radiating from Siwon, the need to answer to the clear challenge presented to him. He already takes a step forward, towards the guard that doesn’t back down an inch, even if he instinctively lowers his head a little and lets his shoulders hunch, as if preparing for an impact. Even the tall man straightens and inches closer, ready to back up his companion even if it means to fight two against four.

“Wait.” The word is merely a breath, but it’s as good as yelling when everyone around is half a wolf with hearing ten times as sharp as any human’s. Sungmin emerges from the line, stops next to Siwon, only an inch behind him, and carefully places his fingers on the other man’s arm. “We need to go back.” He speaks silently but there’s certain firmness to his voice that’s impossible to ignore.

The statement confuses Siwon and if it was anyone but Sungmin he would shake him off and turn back to the challenger in front of him, to the foolish wolf that doesn’t know who he is messing with. But this is Sungmin. Sungmin who is always perceptive, always reliable, and always knows what he is doing.

Truthfully, as soon as Siwon reaches into the pack bonds he feels it too, feels what Sungmin felt already before as his senses weren’t clouded by anger and need to defend his pride. Someone is in danger. He doesn’t know who, can’t feel it from this far away, but he knows that one of the young wolves of his pack needs help and he knows he needs to be there now.

Displeased, Siwon swirls around and gives the two strangers a sharp glare. “This isn’t the end of it.” He growls, before already speeding up towards the direction the bonds pull him to. One by one, the others follow him: Sungmin first, Shindong second. Kyuhyun is the last to leave and he can’t deny himself another glance at the taller of the two. Already turning around, he catches one last glimpse of the man, whose lips quirk into a hint of a smile.

Kyuhyun doesn’t know why, but that smile stays with him for hours to come, lingers in the back of his consciousness even as he speeds into a run to catch up with his pack.

Siwon is not amused.

He abandoned his pride and left the scene to run to one of his wolves, who was supposedly in great danger. And for what? To find out that a bunch of the youngsters with too much energy to spare decided to go play in the water and one of them was foolish enough to almost get himself killed. Granted, it isn’t Taemin’s fault that his foot got stuck in a large chunk of driftwood that kept on pulling him down while he floated along the stream. But he should’ve known that the river is unpredictable, that the water flow is so strong it’s hard to swim against it even without a tree attached to your foot.

At the same time, Siwon knows exactly how appreciated and admired those are who manage to swim across the river and show how strong they are. He has done it himself, several times, when he was still young and foolish and wanted to prove himself so badly. Even if he has grown out of it, he still remembers the flow of adrenaline, the intoxicating feeling of victory when he managed to overcome the nature and win against the strong stream.

It doesn’t make it any less foolish though and he lets his anger show. “How many times have I told you it’s dangerous to come here!?” He gnarls at the frightened teenager in front of him. Taemin has his head bowed down, his hair still dripping water on his shoulders, and he doesn’t even try to say anything. He listens silently, only offering a silent nod or a short yes, sir whenever needed.

Siwon is a fair leader, calm most of the time, but he can also be frightening when he chooses to. He’s tall and muscular, his dark eyes and expressive eyebrows underlining the stormy expression as he hovers above the smaller male, his anger hitting him full on. “If we hadn’t come early enough and gotten you out of the water you would be keeping company to the fishes forever.” Siwon growls, getting louder by the minute. “Do you understand!?”

“Yes, sir,” is all Taemin manages to choke out, shrinking even more into himself as Siwon turns away only to step back right in front of him. Everyone else is silent, backing away from the situation as they know it isn’t their place to interfere. Except one of the teens that was at the river with Taemin earlier that day, who steps up when she sees how much her friend has to take. “You got here on time. Nothing happened. Just let him be,” she pleads.

It sounds way too much like a command though, especially when Siwon is already agitated to begin with and his self control isn’t as good as it usually is. He spins around and gives the girl the deathliest glare he can possibly manage, his voice nearly rising to a roar. “Amber! No one asked you. Step back. Now.”

Instantly she swallows, averting her eyes down obediently as she returns to the line up, zipping her mouth shut tight. They all know that Siwon is acting out of worry, doesn’t want to even think about how it would have been if he had arrived late and could have only fished the teenager’s body from the river. Still it isn’t like him to snap like this. It isn’t the first time the young ones do something stupid and reckless, and never before has Siwon been this furious.

For a good while he still disciplines the young wolves, growling and grunting at them about being irresponsible and how they should listen to their elders. Finally he deems it done and spins around, practically storming off the place, Sungmin hot on his heels. In a few heartbeats most of the people gathered around start heading off to their respective directions, life returning to normal.

Taemin is still a little shocked about the long lecture he received, especially since he doesn’t remember when he had last seen their leader this agitated. A few of his friends gather around him though, Amber wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. “Don’t take it too seriously. He’s just worried.”

“I know,” Taemin frowns, “but it still seems kind of exaggerated.” He sighs, turning to look at Kyuhyun and Shindong who are still lingering around. “Where were you? Did something happen to get him on the edge?” He asks carefully, knowing that neither of the two owe him an explanation, won’t give one unless they want to.

Kyuhyun feels quite charitable and he shrugs lightly. “We went to see the intruding pack.” It will come out sooner or later anyway so what’s the sense in denying it. The information makes the youngsters all look at him stunned, their eyes flying wide. “They weren’t exactly welcoming and then we had to rush back.”

There isn’t any accusation in his voice, but it still makes Taemin flush. “It’s not like I-”

“We know,” Shindong waves aside, offering the teen a soothing smile. “Bad timing. It happens. The pack is only five wolves anyway, we could take them on anytime. Siwon could probably tear them apart alone if he wanted to,” he smirks. “Or at least with a couple of helpers.” That makes them laugh, the tension slowly dissipating.

For some reason thinking of an attack into the small camp makes Kyuhyun uneasy though, and he has no idea what it is. He feels anger bubbling inside of him, annoyance at himself as he can’t explain his own behaviour, is reacting in ways he never would’ve expected. It’s that annoyance that makes him snap, a little more fiercely than he planned to. “Shut up. No one is tearing anyone apart.”

With that he spins around to leave, several sets of surprised eyes staring at his retreating back. “…what the heck is up with him?” Amber asks finally, voicing what everyone is thinking.

Next chapter.

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I’ve literally worked on this for years. I started it… two years ago? Three? Then it was abandoned for a while and now I finally managed to get back to it and finish it. Such sense of accomplishment, haha! I do hope you like it :)

Also, I just want to leave Piu’s alternate summary for this fic here because yes:

[18:47:16] Piu: there are wolves but they're also people and then more wolves come and they are also people but they're different and also legends come true

~~much better than my summary tbh~~

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – Branded

rabenhorst — Sun, 14 Sep 2014 08:09:19 GMT

Title: Branded
Author: fonulyn
Rating: PG
Pairing: Minho/ Key (also mentions of Key/OCs)
Other characters: OCs, Jonghyun, Taemin (mostly just mentioned)
Warnings: mentions of an abusive relationship
Wordcount: 3789 words
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Every person is born with a name on their skin. It’s the name of the person who is supposed to be their soulmate. Kibum used to think it’s a perfect system. All he’d have to do was to find the perfect match.
Comments: welcome to the cliché world of soulmate!aus 8) seriously though, I’ve wanted to do one for ages now, so this was pretty much bound to happen. then foreverdreamingstar prompted me at tumblr with “everything is going to be fine, minkey” and what was supposed to be a tumblr drabble got a little bit longer. so here, have a fic! \o/
also, @foreverdreamingstar: I know it’s not exactly what you requested but I hope it’s good enough :3

Old habits die hard.

Every time Kibum woke up he used to raise his arm to look at his left wrist. Even though he had barely managed to blink his eyes open, even if he was still half asleep, he squinted and read the syllables branded on him already before birth. He traced the messy scrawl in the exact order he always had, as he’d known it by heart already before he could read.

Even now he does it, forces his eyes open and searches for the contrast of black on his pale skin. His gaze is blocked by a strip of fabric, just like it has been for months now. Even though he’s taken to covering the mark up, he knows what’s underneath. Like it had been burned on the insides of his eyelids instead of on his skin.

With a sigh, Kibum closes his eyes. He doesn’t have the time to dwell on it any longer, not before an arm is thrown over him from behind and he’s pulled backwards into a firm chest. Instantly Kibum relaxes into the embrace, the heaviness in his chest easing up by the second.

“What’s wrong?” Minho mumbles, obviously still half asleep as he buries his nose behind Kibum’s ear, tickling him with the overgrown strands of hair. “Why’re you sighing?” That’s about as much coherency as can be expected of him at this hour, but the obvious effort he puts into stringing the words together makes Kibum chuckle.

“I’m fine,” he says, shifting a little bit on his place to press even closer with minimal effort. Minho meets his movements without a second thought until they’re snuggled up as cosily as it gets. It makes something warm splash within Kibum’s chest and he decides he could probably use a few more minutes of rest. “Go back to sleep.”

Obediently, Minho does. Kibum still spends a moment enjoying himself, and how he’s being held so closely, so securely. Automatically his fingers find the black markings on Minho’s right wrist, and he brushes his thumb over the name branded there.

His name.

--

The first time Kibum thinks he’s met his soulmate is when he’s sixteen. The boy is tall and has dark, deep eyes that immediately pull Kibum in. They circle around each other for a couple of weeks and it feels like an eternity to the both of them before Kibum finally makes the first move. They have matching markings, and Kibum couldn’t be more excited. How many people can say they’ve found their very own prince charming already at this age?

Impatient, Kibum wants to get to know the person he’ll be with for the rest of his life. It doesn’t matter that their relationship has all the markings of a turbulent short-lived teen romance. He knows they’ll pull through. He knows they will. They’re meant to be.

Every time they kiss, Kibum touches the black marks on the inside of his wrist, sliding the pads of his fingers over them. He never expected to find his soulmate this soon. He hopes everyone could be as lucky as he is.

That is, until he finds out his assumed soulmate also likes kissing other people.

It’s okay, Kibum thinks, trying to pick up the pieces of himself. It’s okay. He’s young. He’s got time. He’ll find his actual soulmate soon. Very soon.

--

“Do you want coffee before you go?” Minho asks, carding his fingers through his hair. As usual, it makes Kibum laugh and with three long steps he’s right there in front of Minho to smooth the stubborn strands of hair back down to their rightful place.

“No, I’m already late,” Kibum replies and tiptoes enough to plant a quick kiss in the corner of Minho’s mouth. He’s already turning away when Minho grabs his wrist to pull him back in for seconds. Two kisses become three, until Kibum retreats, laughing. “C’mon, now I’m even more late.” He’s smiling, but it doesn’t pass Minho by unnoticed that he instinctively adjusts the bracelets around his left wrist.

Minho knows better than to ask. They’ve been through this before. Yet he can’t help but speak up. “Kibum, you know I don’t care if you’ve got my name there. Why can’t you just let it go?”

“I…” Kibum averts his gaze. When he looks back up he’s smiling again but it’s hollow, it doesn’t reach all the way to his eyes. “I need to go.”

As the door closes Minho releases all air from his lungs in one exhale. Why should Kibum let the matter rest, he thinks, as he can’t seem to let it go himself. He means it when he says he doesn’t care what the name is on Kibum’s wrist. His parents weren’t each other’s soulmates, he knows that people can be happy together without that.

In less than two weeks they’ve been together for six years. And Minho still doesn’t know why Kibum is so insistent in not showing him the symbols on his skin.

Minho does know, however, that the whole soulmate system is rotten to the core. What good does it do to anyone to have a name carved on them for their entire life if it’s of no use? A first name, nothing else. No way to know which one of the thousands of people with that name actually is the one meant for you.

Absently Minho rubs on Kibum’s name on his wrist. Might not be that he found the person it refers to. Either way, he doesn’t care. He knows what he feels. It’s more than enough.

--

“I’m sure it’s him this time,” Kibum exclaims, unable to hold back the giddiness. “He asked me to move in with him.” If his first romance was a whirlwind where everything happened fast, this time around it’s been the opposite. It’s been slow and steady, and maybe that’s why it feels like it’s completely right.

“If you say so,” Taemin answers with a shrug, barely glancing up from the text he’s sending, “at least he took his time.”

“Why are you being such a spoil sport?” Kibum frowns. He can’t deny, he’s a little bit offended. He’s telling his best friend that he’s found his soulmate and the response couldn’t be less enthusiastic. “Just because you don’t believe in soulmates doesn’t mean you can’t be happy for me!”

“Look,” Taemin looks up finally, meeting his friend’s eyes, “if you’re happy, I’m happy. I just think you’re putting way too much weight onto the whole soulmate business.”

“Oh shut up.” Kibum huffs. There’s a smile right around the corner, though. His best friend might be cynical but it doesn’t mean he has to be.

At least Taemin is there for him seven months later when he moves to live on his own again.

--

Kibum used to love the whole idea of soulmates. Maybe his parents didn’t quite make it work, but there were so many other examples of wonderful matches. His grandparents had the most beautiful fairytale romance that he adored ever since he grew old enough to understand it. There were movies made of soulmates, books written about it, poems and commercials and everything you could imagine.

During his entire childhood, Kibum was surrounded by beautiful stories of people finding their significant other, their missing half. So what if there were people who never got their happy ending? He was sure that he’d find it. He would. He loved the name written on his skin.

Now Kibum hates the marks on his wrist. He wears accessories, anything from jewellery to wristbands. Sometimes he covers the black lettering with makeup. He has even considered having them surgically removed, but there’s a part of him that isn’t quite ready for that. It feels so final.

He hates this soulmate bullshit. He hates he’s being forced to go through it. If he hadn’t grown to believe in it, everything would’ve been so much easier.

Everything he has with Minho is… pretty much everything he ever wanted. Sure it’s not perfect, sure they have their arguments, sure it’s not always easy sailing, but they make it work. They always make it work. If Kibum is certain about anything, it’s that he loves Minho.

But he’s scared.

What if there’s someone else who is better for Minho? Another Kibum could waltz into their lives any day and turn out to be better suited for Minho. Surely Minho would jump at the chance of being with the person who was made for him.

Kibum digs his nails into the soft flesh of his wrist. He knows the way it leaves crescent marks in the midst of the black scrawls. He’s afraid to admit he has everything he wants. That’d only make it hurt even more if it’s taken away again.

--

The next time Kibum thinks he’s found his soulmate things don’t go as smoothly as before. They fight all the time, and they fight fierce. There isn’t a single day when they aren’t throwing plates or a paperweight, or at the very least hurtful words at each other. Still, Kibum is convinced that it’s going to be alright. They just need to make it work somehow.

Until the biggest fight they’ve ever had. It starts out utterly ridiculous; they start yelling at one another over who lost the car keys this time. It’s not even really anything out of the ordinary when it escalates further and Kibum throws an apple at his boyfriend, only to have to dodge the actual set of car keys in question a moment later.

There’s something about this fight that never happened before, though. Kibum isn’t alarmed when his boyfriend approaches him mid-sentence, but when his arm is grabbed and twisted backwards painfully he starts to really freak out. “C’mon, stop it. Stop it! Get your hands off of me!”

“No, Kibum, I won’t,” the other man replies, no longer yelling. Somehow that’s even worse. “Not until you apologize.”

“Apologize!?” Kibum asks incredulously. “No fucking way! Let go of me or I’m done. We’re done.”

At first he gains no answer at all. Then the pressure on his arm eases up, only to be back again when his boyfriend twists it again until it’s right in front of Kibum’s face. Kibum is staring at his own wrist, at the name written there, and for the first time in his entire life he has to consider the possibility that maybe he’s got all this backwards.

Kibum has never been scared of his boyfriend, not before, but right now when the grip on his arm tightens as it’s shaken to his face, his heart misses a couple of beats. Cold dread seems to collect in the pit of his stomach and he’d kick and scream if it wasn’t for the paralyzing shock.

“See this?” the other man hisses through his teeth, his face so close to Kibum’s that they both have trouble focusing their eyes. It doesn’t stop any of it, and Kibum has no chance to speak properly before he’s cut off again. “This means you are mine. You belong to me.”

Abruptly he lets go, all signs of anger gone as he grins at Kibum. “You’re mine. You’re not going anywhere.” With that he leaves, slamming the door on his way out.

As soon as his breathing evens out, Kibum packs his bags. He’s out by morning.

--

Kibum has never really been nervous about coming back to home, but well, he supposes there’s a first for everything. He’s not proud of how he reacted in the morning, and how he still can’t be completely honest with Minho. They’ve been together for the longest and he dearly hopes that they’ll continue to share their lives together for decades to come, but… some things he just isn’t ready to talk about. Not yet. Who knows if ever?

Thankfully Minho is already there, standing in the living room while sorting through the pile of mail of the day. As soon as he notices Kibum he looks up, smiling in greeting. “Hey. Did your boss give you hard time for being late?” he asks, the first thing, and Kibum’s heart practically melts in his chest.

“He didn’t even notice that I snuck in later than usual,” he says, approaching Minho. As soon as he’s close enough he throws his arms around Minho, hugging him close. It feels good, like he doesn’t even need to hold himself up as he can only lean against Minho and trust him to keep him from falling. Which makes him feel even worse for not being entirely upfront about everything, but he tries to squash the feeling down. He doesn’t even know why the topic has been popping up today a lot more than usual.

“Look, Minho, I’m really sorry about this morning,” Kibum tells Minho’s chest. His voice comes out mumbled but he doesn’t even try to withdraw as he’s really good right where he is.

“It’s okay,” Minho answers without missing a beat. He brings his arms around Kibum, squeezing him a little closer. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have pushed,” he cringes, and it’s audible in his voice, “again.”

Seems like they both have been thinking of the morning. Kibum buries his nose in Minho’s shirt one more time, inhales deeply, and then pulls back just enough to look at him properly without losing the warm embrace. “You know, I only got through work because I was planning how we could spend the evening,” he admits, a grin tugging on his lips. “We could order in? I’m so not in the mood for cooking. Or,” he chuckles, “I could watch you cook?”

Minho laughs. “No, I think we’ll order something. And eat on the couch while watching TV. That sounds like a masterful plan if you ask me.”

“It’s a deal,” Kibum agrees immediately. He stands on his toes, reaching up to plant a quick kiss on Minho’s lips. “I’m just going to take a quick shower, okay. Give me a second.”

“Take all the time you need,” Minho says, patting Kibum’s bottom. “I’ll try to see if I can do something about the bookshelf. It’s still wobbly.”

Kibum chuckles, finally able to bring himself to detach from Minho. “Good luck with that. Try not to get yourself killed.”

--

The next person Kibum dates isn’t his soulmate. He knows because the man’s name is nowhere near his soulmate’s name. He swears he’ll never date anyone with that name again. He doesn’t want to get to another disaster like the one he’s just lived through.

So, no soulmate for him. He’s fine with it. He will be, at least. Eventually.

--

Kibum presses his forehead against the cool tiles in the bathroom. It feels good in contrast to the hot water running down his back and finally his muscles start to relax. It’s been a long day, but finally he’s home and can spend some quality time together with Minho, and Kibum can’t help but smile to himself.

Absently he rubs on his wrist. The makeup has worn thin in some spots already, even though it’s the very water resistant industrial kind. He hasn’t covered the marks up with it in a while now, so it feels strange when he finally begins to clean the makeup off and the black curves come more and more visible. It’s sort of hypnotizing, even, but after a while he shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut to break himself out of the trance.

With a sigh he throws the sponge into the sink, diving under the water spray as if it could isolate him from the rest of the world for just a second. He’s too tired for the makeup again today, though, he’ll just have to wear a wristband or something. He’s got a ton of them.

Suddenly, there’s a loud crash from the direction of the living room. It sounds like a wall has just fallen down, in the least, and it’s instantly followed by an outcry from Minho and it makes Kibum panic. He barely manages to turn off the tap and grab a towel to wrap around himself before he’s out of the door, sprinting to the living room to see what’s happened. “Minho! Are you alright?”

He comes to a halt in the doorway for a second, instantly relieved as he sees that Minho is standing up, obviously not harmed at least badly. The large bookshelf has fallen down, all of the items that used to be on the shelves now scattered around the floor. Minho is holding his elbow, otherwise seeming just spooked, but Kibum hurries to him anyway.

“Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, gently grabbing Minho’s shoulder. He needs to see if there’s any damage. He runs his fingers down Minho’s arm, breathing a sigh of relief as he realizes there’s absolutely nothing wrong. At least no broken bones, no cuts, nothing to get worked up over. Only then he realizes that Minho isn’t saying anything, but is just staring at his hands. “What… is going on?” he asks, slowly.

“Kibum,” Minho says. He sounds somehow choked, like he’s seeing something he didn’t expect to.

Only then it dawns on Kibum. The name. The soulmate mark. Quickly he tries to pull his hand back to cover it up again, even though he knows the damage is already done, but Minho gently grabs his hand to stop him. “Wait. Kibum, really. Don’t freak out about this.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Kibum whispers. Suddenly he feels miserable, like everything is out of his control all at once. “I’m sorry I kept it a secret so long.”

“I just don’t… I don’t understand,” Minho says, his gaze still locked on the black markings. “I don’t understand why you’d want to hide that? I always thought it was… I don’t know, maybe someone we knew, or someone you really didn’t want to be your soulmate. But this?” He looks up, smiling at Kibum. There might even be a glimmer of a tear in the corner of his eyes, as he seems really touched about this. “This is perfect, Kibum. We’re a match.”

“No, it’s not perfect!” Kibum raises his voice, frustration clear in it. He thought so too before, being a matching pair was everything his dreams were made of, but after all of those disasters he’s lived through… It feels more like a burden than a gift. As gently as he can manage, Kibum tugs his hand free from Minho’s grip, backing away from him a few steps.

Minho looks hurt, but Kibum ignores that. He needs to ignore it, or otherwise he won’t ever be able to say what he should. “Do you have any idea how many Minhos I’ve dated?” he asks, pleading. “Most of them even had my name right there on them! And it sucked, it never worked out, they always left me for someone better! And I’m so tired of that. I thought that if we weren’t soulmates we’d be…”

Kibum hesitates. He feels cold, his hair is still wet and dripping on his shoulders, and suddenly he feels incredibly vulnerable standing there in only a towel. He hugs his arms around himself, pressing the goddamned black marks against his side to hide them. “I’m sorry, okay. I can’t do this.”

With that, he turns and runs.

--

When Jonghyun invites him to a party Kibum doesn’t even hesitate. He’s been single for a while and he finally feels ready to give relationships a new try, so maybe he’ll find someone nice in the big gathering. Jonghyun is famous for inviting everyone and their dog into his get-togethers, so chances for that are pretty damn good, too.

“Hey Kibum, there’s someone I’d like you to meet!” Jonghyun says, nearly the first thing as soon as Kibum steps over the threshold into the apartment. He’s gesturing to a tall man, who has the build of an athlete and the most delicious brown eyes ever, and Kibum sort of wants to throw himself at him straight from second one. Only the next words coming from Jonghyun’s mouth feel like a cold shower to quench his enthusiasm. “This is Minho, Minho this is Kibum. I think you’ll hit it off!”

Kibum is ready to retreat, but then he makes the mistake of looking straight at this Minho. This Minho has a smile that could melt even the most frozen heart. There’s a sparkle in his eyes that invites something in Kibum’s soul to dance. This Minho is different from the others before, Kibum thinks. Yet he’s not sure if he can trust that feeling.

Kibum tries to resist. He really does.

He never stands a chance.

--

Kibum is sitting on the pavement right in front of their apartment complex, feeling even colder than before. He’s wearing only a thin shirt and jeans, and even though it’s technically still summer the evenings are incredibly cold. Yet he can’t bring himself to go back in, either. That would mean facing Minho, facing the fact that he’s kept secrets from him for years and now has to actually talk about it.

Honestly? Kibum is so not ready for that.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t take long before there are footsteps behind him, and suddenly a blanket lands on his shoulders. Grateful, Kibum hugs the warm cloth closer, wrapping himself up in it. It feels like a barrier between him and the world, as well as helping him regain the warmth he so desperately needs. Minho sits down right next to him, not even caring that the pavement is cold.

They’re silent only for a moment, before Minho clears his throat. “I can’t promise you we’re soulmates, Kibum,” Minho says. Kibum risks a glance at him and he looks so earnest, so honest, that Kibum can’t even blink anymore, much less look away. “But I love you. I want to be with you. And if that’s not enough for you,” his smile turns sad, “you need to tell me now.” He turns his head a little, meeting Kibum’s gaze with his own.

“It is enough,” Kibum chokes out. “It’s …more than enough.” There’s a tightness in his throat that feels a lot like impending tears but he tries to swallow it down as best as he can. Instead he leans closer, rests his head on Minho’s shoulder and marvels in the way he’s still allowed to do that. It feels nothing short of perfect.

Minho smiles, visibly relieved. “Everything’s going to be fine.” He reaches out for Kibum’s hand, threads their fingers together and squeezes. It aligns their wrists, the mark on Kibum’s pressing against the one on Minho’s.

check the masterlist for more fic! | follow me on tumblr~ | add this journal for updates

so this is where I’ll sell my soul to Piu for helping me tons with this fic ♥ thank you again bb you’re a treasure ♥

asndjkfghn this thing has plagued me for a while, I’m so glad it’s finally finished and out of my system. I hope you enjoyed it! ;;

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – Here She Comes

rabenhorst — Sun, 08 Jun 2014 14:12:51 GMT

Title: Here She Comes
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17 (more R tho?)
Pairing: girl!Minho/girl!Key (Minjung/Gwiboon)
Other characters: girl!Taemin (Taeyeon)
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 4106 words
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Technically, Gwiboon knows that the other cheerleading squad is competition, not to be made friends with. Then again, it’s not like Minjung is a friend, strictly speaking.
Comments: Entirely inspired by this, I blame it for everything! I actually wrote this already longer ago but then I promptly forgot about it, and then I edited it for posting and forgot it again. But… better late than never? ;D Here you go!

It takes less than fifteen seconds after the door closes for them to get into action. Eagerly Gwiboon parts her thighs as Minjung steps between them, her hands already trailing along Gwiboon’s sides while bunching up her uniform shirt. Usually Gwiboon would protest as she knows she needs to go back out there, in front of an audience. Now… she doesn’t really give a damn. It already borders on too much when she has to stop kissing Minjung for long enough to actually speak, but dutifully she pulls back just enough to press their foreheads together.

“Did you lock the door?” she whispers, her voice not at all as steady as she’d wish for it to be.

Minjung laughs, low and throaty. “Yes. You do know we should be out there, right?” She says it, but she doesn’t mean it. At least not if the way she mouths the words against Gwiboon’s neck is any indication. She doesn’t want to stop this any more than Gwiboon does.

“Screw that,” Gwiboon huffs. She lets her head drop backwards as Minjung finally pushes a hand under her shirt, more and more direct with her groping with each passing second. “We know the moves inside and out.” Besides, there’s no way she’s going back out there before she gets off. No way. Not when Minjung has been tormenting her for the whole goddamn day with those sultry looks and promising whispers.

“Alright,” Minjung hums. “Just don’t blame me when you can’t pull the routine off later.” The last words are spoken in a rush, as if she cannot wait before licking into Gwiboon’s mouth, in a kiss so filthy Gwiboon is certain her lipgloss is smudged beyond repair.

Any and all kinds of sports should be banned on bright and sunny days. That is the philosophy Gwiboon lives by. She’s so not made for sweating through all layers of her clothing unattractively, and the mere thought of it already puts a damper on her mood. She shields her eyes with her palm as the obnoxious sunlight seems to be laughing right in her face, both figuratively and literally.

It’s not like she has any choice though. The big soccer match has been scheduled for this date already months ago and her complaints wouldn’t do anything to change that. Not even though she’s the head of the cheerleading squad. Co-leader, to be exact, she reminds herself as she knows her best friend would slaughter her for forgetting that.

Said best friend chooses that exact moment to sit down on the bench as well, poking Gwiboon’s side with a bony elbow. “C’mon stop moping. A little sweat never killed anyone.”

“Are you really sure?” Gwiboon asks in a protesting huff.

“Yeah,” Taeyeon grins, brushing her long bangs out of her eyes. She’s obviously enjoying this, radiating the particular sort of smugness she always gets before show-offs like this. It might be the teams playing against one another, but they all know half of the audience is there all for the cheerleaders. “And look. There are the mortal enemies.”

Bored, Gwiboon glances over her shoulder. It’s not like she hasn’t seen the other cheer team before, with the way they have scheduled matches in just about every goddamn sport available and the cheerleading squads are always obligated to be there. Already the first day of high school they’re all told that about being mortal enemies with the second biggest high school in town, and the whole school year is one big showdown to see who’s better.

No one probably even knows where the rivalry began in the first place.

Just when Gwiboon is about to turn back to Taeyeon, she spots someone she doesn’t know. There’s a tall girl, so tall her legs seem to go on for miles and miles. Her black hair is in a messy ponytail that reaches all the way to the small of her back, and she seems somewhat uncertain standing a bit on the sidelines when all the other girls are chattering away. “Hey, Tae? Who’s that?” She tries to point at the girl discreetly, without anyone noticing.

“Who?” Taeyeon perks up, leaning forward on her seat to see better. “The one that has longer legs than all the others combined? That’s the new girl! I don’t know her name but I heard Hyein broke her leg and they had to find a replacement. I hope she sucks.”

Gwiboon snorts, unable to cover her amusement. “C’mon we’re going to crush them anyway. Doesn’t matter if she sucks.”

“Yeah,” Taeyeon says, standing up to head out on the field with the rest of their team, “but I’d take the advantage.”

Gwiboon has to agree. The competition is tight, of course she’d take any advantage they can get. Yet she has to admit, right now she’s more curious. There’s something eye-catching about the new girl, to the point that Taeyeon has to come back to bodily drag Gwiboon along with her.

“Holy fuck your hands are magic,” Gwiboon manages to get out along with a heavy exhalation of air. She wraps her legs around Minjung’s waist, both to keep her close and to open up for her even more, in a silent plea for more touches, more anything. Minjung has two fingers inside of her, but what’s even better is how she keeps rocking the heel of her palm against Gwiboon’s clit. It’s just consistent enough to keep Gwiboon teetering on the edge, but never enough to push her completely beyond.

Shamelessly Gwiboon arches against Minjung, riding out yet another full-bodied shudder that rips through her. She’s beginning to sweat through her shirt, which is sort of gross, but she’s more focused on the fact that the air in the small room is way too hot, way too humid, making it harder to breathe. Minjung certainly doesn’t help with that, not with the way she keeps kissing Gwiboon, languidly like she has all the time in the world.

“C’mon Boonie,” Minjung says, with urgency, as she withdraws her hand and instead places her palms on Gwiboon’s hips to yank her closer. “Let me…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t really need to. What she does is sink down on her knees, and it’s already more than enough for Gwiboon to get the idea of what’s going on. Biting her lower lip Gwiboon braces herself, scoots nearer to the edge of the table, and upon locking eyes with Minjung promptly forgets to breathe.

Playfully Minjung scrapes her teeth over the smooth skin of Gwiboon’s inner thigh.

After the match Gwiboon is still not ready to reconsider her opinion on bright and sunny days. She enjoyed herself, of course, but now she feels so wiped out she’d rather have someone carry her home. With a huge sigh, she falls backwards until she’s lying on the bench, her legs sprawled on each side of it. She feels sort of tempted to dump the contents of her water bottle on her face but she doesn’t want to risk whatever little is left of her makeup so she doesn’t.

She focuses on the warmth of the sun on her face, on the distant sounds of people chattering as almost everyone is heading inside to the cafeteria. It’s sort of calming, to the point that Gwiboon starts drifting off and almost misses the soft sound of footsteps approaching her. It’s probably Taeyeon, fucking finally, she said she’d only congratulate her boyfriend not spend a full-length honeymoon with him.

Ready to tell her friend off, Gwiboon heaves herself up and opens her eyes, squinting a bit against the sunlight. She manages to think something along the lines of since when did Taeyeon get so tall before she realizes that it’s the new girl from their rival school, standing there smiling at her. “You were really good,” the girl says. Her voice is surprisingly low, nicely smooth in a way that makes Gwiboon want to wrap herself in it and listen to it forever.

...she might have a slight thing for voices, okay.

The words, though, don’t make an ounce of sense. Why would the girl compliment their soccer team? “What do you mean good?” she laughs. “Our team got slaughtered out there! You won like what… twenty to three? You don’t need to try be nice to the losers, you earned the win.” She smirks. It helps that she truly does hate sports. Why would she care they lost? She got her attentive audience and applause anyway.

The girl frowns, as if she doesn’t get what Gwiboon means, but then simply shakes her head firmly. “No. You were really good,” she stresses, arching an eyebrow as if she thinks Gwiboon is a little slow on the uptake.

And truthfully, maybe she is, since it takes another second for Gwiboon’s brain to process the information. “Me?”

This time the girl nods, a grin dancing on her lips. “Yeah. You.” Casually she takes a seat next to Gwiboon on the bench, tilts her head a little bit to look at her straight. “I liked watching you.” It’s sort of shameless how she lets her eyes wander down a little, but maybe she’s just trying to be clear on the signals she’s sending since Gwiboon has obviously been more than a little dense.

The compliment makes a slight flush rise on Gwiboon’s cheeks and she takes a long sip from her water bottle to hide it. “Didn’t you have other things to focus on?” she asks, finally, hoping that she manages to pull off the nonchalant tone she aims for.

The girl shrugs a little, that same smile still lighting up her features. “No. Not really.”

They sit in silence for a while, and miraculously it’s not awkward. It’s actually sort of companionable, even though Gwiboon spends the whole time trying to come up with what to answer with. I watched you too? Actually I think you’re gorgeous? Maybe Are you hitting on me?

But then the girl gets up to leave, called by her teammates, and all that Gwiboon manages to blurt out is a pathetic “Hey, what’s your name?”

The girl turns on her heels, walking backwards as she flashes Gwiboon a bright grin. “Minjung.”

It’s impossible to muster up the energy for a proper kiss for now, so they all stay mere brushes of lips on lips, heavy breathing shared between their mouths. Somehow they’ve tumbled down on the floor, Gwiboon straddling Minjung’s thighs while hovering above her. Long chocolate brown curls are cascading down around their faces, and Gwiboon tries to blow a stray strand off her face only for it to land right back on its original place.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Minjung asks, ever the responsible one, probably worried that they’ll be late for the match. Gwiboon couldn’t care less about that, honestly, not when she has Minjung sprawled underneath her. Even if it’s on the dusty floor, in the midst of cardboard boxes and piles of folders.

“No,” Gwiboon answers, at length. She shimmies down a little bit, until she can push Minjung’s skirt up and out of the way. “But no one is searching for us yet.” She presses her lips on Minjung’s hipbone, darts out her tongue and revels in the way Minjung already sighs contently at that.

“You can’t know that,” Minjung still points out, even if she sounds more than a little distracted.

Gwiboon shrugs. “At least they didn’t find us yet.”

How things process from there is sort of a blur. The next time they meet it’s Gwiboon who approaches Minjung and sits next to her for a while before the match. The time after that Minjung catches Gwiboon in the nick of time and asks her if she’d like to hang out after school. Somehow they end up spending hours at the mall, doing absolutely nothing but chatting while walking around aimlessly.

“You want ice cream or something?” Minjung asks, nudging Gwiboon with her shoulder. It’s the sort of gesture that speaks volumes of how comfortable they feel around one another, as if they’ve known for much longer than a bit over a month. As Gwiboon’s answer isn’t immediately forthcoming, Minjung prompts her further. “My treat.”

“Actually,” Gwiboon drawls, hooking her arm with Minjung’s. “I’d absolutely love you if we could get some actual food? I’m starving. And I haven’t yet tried all the varieties.” She knows she’s being ridiculous as there must be hundreds of different kinds of food lined up along the street and the marketplace. There’s no way in hell they could ever taste all of those.

Yet Minjung seems to be all up for a challenge. “Oh you’re so on. The first one to give up is going to pay for everything.”

“Get ready to beg your parents for more money,” Gwiboon smirks. “I’m going to bring you down.”

It’s hours later when they finally end up sitting on the edge of a fountain, their feet aching and both of them feeling more or less like throwing up. Gwiboon still has a stick that sort of looks like a badly made candle, something she heard was a Russian specialty and she keeps eyeing it warily instead of trying it out. She probably can’t eat another bite anyway.

“So,” Minjung pulls her back from her thoughts. “I totally won.”

“You won?” Gwiboon asks, scandalized. “I saw you throw away half of that burrito, don’t even try to make it sound like you didn’t cheat!”

“Well,” Minjung grins, leaning back far enough that it looks like she’s going to fall into the fountain sooner or later. “Maybe. Still doesn’t mean I didn’t eat more.”

The whole situation is so hilarious Gwiboon can’t hold back anymore. She bursts into her very unladylike laughter, the one her mother always calls a guffaw and tells her to calm down. Gwiboon laughs with her whole body, throwing herself against Minjung’s side.

Minjung groans, even though the grin on her lips is telling. “C’mon you’re going to make me either puke or explode. Stop that!” She jostles Gwiboon a little, but at the same time sneaks her arm safely around Gwiboon’s middle, no doubt to ensure that they won’t end up in the fountain after all.

Something warm bursts in Gwiboon’s chest and she thinks it’s safe to say she’s developed a little crush. Okay, maybe an average-sized crush.

She’s not quite ready to admit how gigantic it is in actuality.

Minjung’s feet are planted firmly on the ground, her skirt bunched up around her waist, and poetry could be written about the way her face is all flushed and twisted in pleasure.

Even then, Gwiboon’s favourite thing ever, in this whole world, must be the way Minjung looks when her whole body tenses, her back arching like a bow.

She can’t get enough of it.

When the doorbell rings Gwiboon shouts out an automatic “I’ll get it!” before she remembers that she’s home alone. It’s one of the very reasons she did invite Minjung over, as now they have the whole house for themselves and can do whatever the hell they please for the whole weekend. She has planned a lot of TV, quite honestly, but also maybe some girly stuff one sees on the movies, hair braiding and doing each other’s makeup and all. The whole deal.

The only downside right now is that Minjung is early. So early that Gwiboon has barely managed to get out of the shower, her hair still dripping wet and her clothes… well, she hasn’t yet picked out her clothes. It’s important, alright. But even more important is that she’ll open the door so she throws on her mother’s bathrobe, quickly wraps a towel around her hair, and definitely ungracefully hops to the door.

When she opens the door, Minjung is there as expected, a backpack slung over her shoulder. There’s something new about her, though, and Gwiboon freezes for a good moment before her mind clicks into place. “You got a haircut!” she exclaims, neverminding that she completely foregoes greetings for it.

“You’ve been telling me to do it for weeks,” Minjung points out. Her smile isn’t the usual confident, genuine smile Gwiboon is used to, but something a little hesitant, even a little shy. It’s absolutely charming, and Gwiboon just wants to kiss it off. The shorter strands frame Minjung’s face just right, underlining her attractiveness instead of partly covering it in a mop of hair. And her hair looks soft, so soft, it’s almost hypnotizing.

Apparently not only almost, since before she even realizes what she’s doing Gwiboon reaches out and toys with the ends of the new bangs, before carefully sliding her fingers between the curls. Actual curls. Holy hell, she’d never thought that Minjung would look this good. Seriously, how do you perfect perfection?

Using the grip she has on Minjung’s hair Gwiboon gently urges her to lean down. As their lips meet it’s tentative, it’s soft and it’s wondering, like neither of them is quite sure this is really happening. As far as firsts go, Gwiboon knows she has never been this strongly affected by such slight contact. She brushes her thumb over Minjung’s cheek, parts her lips tentatively, and holy hell she’s in heaven.

Somehow they stumble inside properly instead of standing there on the doorstep for all nosy neighbours to see. Gwiboon stops only when her back collides with the wall and even then she doesn’t let go of Minjung’s hair, doesn’t move her other hand from Minjung’s cheek, and is so immersed on the moment that she completely misses the loud thud of the door closing.

When they eventually pull apart, Gwiboon keeps her eyes closed for a moment, just to catch her breath and collect herself. This wasn’t included in her plans, but honestly? This is so much better. Screw everything she’d thought out for the weekend.

Apparently she’s quiet for a bit too long, though, as Minjung begins to pull back. She fidgets a little, as if she’s not sure what she’s allowed to do with her hands, but at the same time very eager to take matters into her own hands. Quite literally.

Gwiboon sighs. “Oh for the love of –” She grabs Minjung’s wrists, one by one, and pulls her closer. “Now that we finally got here,” she begins as she places Minjung’s left hand on her boob, “please, please don’t stop?” She reaches behind herself to put Minjung’s right hand in the small of her back. If this isn’t enough invitation, well, she might just have to get it in writing.

Thankfully Minjung seems more than willing to accept the new turn of events. The familiar heart-melting smile is back, and slowly she leans in to kiss Gwiboon again. If at all possible, it’s even better than the first time around.

It becomes pretty clear that Minjung is definitely not going to stop, latest by the time she slides her palm lower along the curve of Gwiboon’s butt.

Despite her earlier nonchalance, Gwiboon doesn’t actually want anyone to walk in on them. She’s aware of the passing of time, and that they don’t have much longer before someone notices they’re missing. So she uses all of her bodyweight to pin Minjung against the floor, leans down to bring her lips right next to Minjung’s ear, and drops her voice to a low, seductive whisper.

“My parents are out of town again,” she starts, almost conversationally. She places a hot kiss in the junction of Minjung’s neck, feels the weak answering nod. “So. Tonight. In my room.” She grins right against Minjung’s skin, drops her voice low, and barely gets two words in before, finally, Minjung loses it.

Like always, Taeyeon drops down on the bench next to Gwiboon and almost knocks them both over by theatrically pushing on Gwiboon’s shoulder. “Gwiboon, I am disappointed!” She’s obviously part-joking and part-serious, and Gwiboon is sort of glad about that since the next step in Taeyeon’s interrogation skills is deadly intimidation. “What’s going on between you and that leggy girl?”

Oh. That was unexpected. Gwiboon shrugs, reaching out to finish tying her shoelaces. “What do you mean?” She aims to sound casual, but she knows that she’s blushing at the mere thought of Minjung. She can’t help but think of her smile, of her gentle eyes, of the way she makes Gwiboon shudder under her touch. None of which is really something she should say aloud to Taeyeon at the side of a soccer field with students flocking in from all directions to attend the event.

“C’mon don’t play stupid.” Taeyeon pokes Gwiboon again, mercilessly. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s caused a bruise with her brutal pinching. “We all know that there’s something, but no one else has the balls to ask you. Are you actually sleeping with her?” She lowers her voice at the last words, narrowing her eyes a little.

If Gwiboon didn’t know Taeyeon so well, she’d probably think she’s actually angry. They’ve been friends forever, though, and it’s easy at this point for Gwiboon to spot when Taeyeon is being serious and right now she’s not. “So what if I am?” She straightens and looks at her friend, arching a curious eyebrow. “You’ve always known what I’m into. Why is me dating a girl a big deal now?”

Taeyeon sighs as if Gwiboon is being deliberately dumb, waving it aside. “No, not that! But Gwiboon, she’s from our rival school.” Again, she drops her voice to a menacing whisper. It’s actually impressive how easily she can go from sweet to that, like the flip of a switch. “She’s from the enemy camp! How could you?”

Enemy camp? Gwiboon levels her with a look. “Seriously? Taeyeon? That’s the best you’ve got?”

There it is, then, the telltale glimmer in Taeyeon’s eyes and the familiar grin tugging on her lips. “…well. They can’t all be gems, now can they? Besides, I am pissed at you because you didn’t tell me,” she finally says. “You deserved a little scare, okay.”

Gwiboon chuckles, and this time it’s her turn to jab her elbow between Taeyeon’s ribs. “Are you done with the theatrics now?”

Taeyeon nods. “Yeah I’m done.” She gets up, straightens her skirt and waves into the general direction of the school parking lot. “Your girlfriend is approaching. Make sure you’re on time. We need to kill with our new routine.”

Gwiboon knows she technically doesn’t need her friend’s approval. It’s nice to have it anyway.

Now that the urgency has faded the kisses are slower, softer, savouring. Minjung can’t stop grinning, and that is more than enough to make Gwiboon giddy as well, the laughter bubbling out of her chest. She indeed has great plans for tonight, and since they have the whole house for themselves those plans are so not limited only to her own room. There’s the huge bed in the guestroom at least, the one with proper, sturdy bedposts…

Minjung startles Gwiboon out of her fantasies by finally sitting up, almost knocking their heads together in a way that results in another row of laughter. Gwiboon struggles to stand up, her knees still a little jellified and unsteady. “You know, there’s no way we’ll manage to look presentable out there,” she snickers. She does her best straightening her skirt, and adjusts her bra so it’s actually on.

“Oh shush,” Minjung waves aside. She runs her fingers through the mess of her hair, before fixing the ponytail. “You know you look gorgeous. No need to fish for compliments.”

Grinning, Gwiboon tilts her head and eyes Minjung for a moment. “Well, if I were you, I’d be generous with the compliments. You know what they earn you.”

With a soft sigh, Minjung apparently gives in. The smile is like stuck on her lips as she steps close, makes sure to brush off imaginary dust from Gwiboon’s shoulder. “You,” she begins, meeting Gwiboon’s eyes straight, “are the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.”

Gwiboon sputters indignantly. Minjung shuts her up with a kiss. It’s soft and it’s warm, unhurried although they’re running out of time, and it makes Gwiboon’s heart constrict in her chest.

“Good luck.” Minjung says as they part. “Make me proud.” She ushers Gwiboon out of the room before her, not missing the perfect opportunity to give her bottom a little grope.

Oh well, Gwiboon thinks, it’s not like this is the first time she’s going to pull of the cheer routine after an amazing orgasm. She can do it. By now she’s practically a professional.

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This sort of completely happened on accident. Don’t regret a thing 8)

Unbetaed, sorry :(

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee –High Maintenance Extras 4/?

rabenhorst — Sun, 25 May 2014 16:57:35 GMT

Title: High Maintenance Extras 4/?
Author: fonulyn
Rating: PG
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: OCs, brief mentions
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 2580
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Things are so messed up between Gwiboon and her parents. She really shouldn’t hope for anything to change.
Comments: Another High Maintenance ficlet! meiachii asked me to write something where Gwiboon meets her mother again after some time, so here you go! :D I hope you’ll like it!
(It’s written in one go, pretty much just flow of consciousness, and hasn’t been betaed yet so please forgive typos, or point them out so I can fix them!)

As much as Gwiboon loves her children, she would rather not go out to buy groceries with all three of them. It’s always such a hassle, keeping an eye on all of them and making sure they’re not running off or doing something else they’re not supposed to. Soojin is thankfully such an obedient little girl she sticks to her mother and helps out picking the groceries, but her siblings make up for that with their sheer energy.

It’s a huge relief when Gwiboon finally gets to steer the trio towards the car, coevally trying to manoeuvre the shopping cart without causing an accident. Hyoyoung is already trying to run off with her popsicle, obviously having spotted something incredibly interesting in the gutter on the side of the parking lot. Thankfully her little chubby legs make sure she’s not very fast yet, and Gwiboon easily catches her before any damage is done.

“You’re not supposed to cause mom grey hair like that,” Gwiboon says as she supports the little girl on her hip, bringing her back to the car and straight into her car seat. “What have we told you about running off without telling mom or dad?”

“Not to do it,” the little girl informs dutifully, offering Gwiboon a happy blue smile. It’s going to be hell getting those blue stains off her shirt, too, but Gwiboon still can’t bring herself to regret buying the popsicles. Especially since now all the kids seem to have calmed down to enjoy their treats.

Gwiboon buckles Hyoyoung up, and already crouches down to lift Seungwon up next when someone calls out for her. She startles, instantly recognizing the voice, even though it’s the last one she ever expected to hear. Slowly she turns around, straightening as she comes face to face with her mother. Mrs Kim looks impeccable as ever in her classy summer dress, one that probably cost more than everything Gwiboon and the children are wearing put together.

It’s like time slows down, and Gwiboon has never been more grateful for the children for being silent and obedient instead of causing a horrible ruckus.

Finally Mrs Kim breaks the silence, smiling awkwardly. “It’s been a while.” She’s radiating discomfort but makes no move to leave.

Gwiboon steels herself for an uncomfortable discussion, her shoulder tensing on instinct. “Yes, it has.” She doesn’t need a reminder of that. It’s almost been a decade since she was shut out by her parents and never contacted again. Not when she got married, not even when she gave birth to the triplets, not once.

All she’s ever heard has been via Jinki, but that source of information died as well when he finally came out to the whole family two years back. Then it’s been absolutely nothing, as if she didn’t exist to her parents and vice versa. She had to even hear of her father’s passing six months ago through a family lawyer, who informed her she’s not going to get anything. She wasn’t invited to the funeral.

Gwiboon doesn’t know what to make of the conflicting emotions inside of her. Mrs Kim spends a long moment looking at the children, one by one, and there is something strange in her expression. Gwiboon tries to decide if it’s hatred, as it’s no secret what her mother thinks of her husband still and at least Soojin looks like a tiny female duplicate of Minho. The other two children have a lot of their father in them as well. Then again Mrs Kim seems to be mostly contemplative, maybe something like longing mixed into it.

Finally Mrs Kim breaks the silence, again offering one of those horrible plastic smiles that she pastes on without even feeling them. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” She’s perfectly polite, as if she’s meeting the children of one of her business advocates instead of her own grandchildren. Yet Gwiboon knows, from experience, that no matter what runs beneath the icy exterior of her mother is never shown openly.

“I…” Gwiboon hesitates. A part of her wants to say no, no you gave up the right to be in the lives of these children when you abandoned your own daughter. She doesn’t have the heart to. In the end the kids do deserve to know their grandmother. At least they deserve a chance. So with a sigh, Gwiboon collects all the calmness she can manage right now and gently twines a little girl’s pigtail around her fingers.

“Here’s Soojin. She’s the big sister. She’s been such a great help today.” Immediately Soojin perks up proudly, standing as tall as she can. Even if it’s really not a lot, not even if she tries to secretly tiptoe a little bit. Politely Soojin greets this strange lady, earning the most genuine smile from Mrs Kim up until now.

Next Gwiboon places her hand on the little boy’s shoulder. “This is Seungwon. He’s quite a mechanic already.” True to his shy nature, Seungwon is bashful and hides his face in his mother’s knee. He has never really liked talking to new people, only comfortable with the familiar adults he’s already gotten to know. Gwiboon pats his head encouragingly, nodding towards the little girl sitting in the car.

“And here’s Hyoyoung. She’s our little princess.” The girl waves cheerily from her car seat, already launching into an explanation on how amazing her blue popsicle was and isn’t blue the best colour in the world or what? When she smiles she looks exactly like Gwiboon does in all of those old photographs that used to sit on the mantelpiece in the Kim manor. Distantly Gwiboon wonders if the pictures are still there, or if her existence is wiped clean from the house.

“Is she our grandma?” Seungwon asks curiously, tugging insistently on Gwiboon’s skirt as he looks up at her. “Like the grandma that comes over and makes us cookies?”

The expression on his face is so hopeful that Gwiboon’s heart breaks in her chest. She swallows, instead of laughing at the ridiculous thought of her mother baking cookies, or baking absolutely anything at all. “She is your grandma,” she begins carefully, “but she isn’t a cookie baking grandma.” She hopes dearly that it’s enough of an explanation right now, as she doesn’t really want to get further into it right in front of Mrs Kim.

“Oh.” Disappointment is clear in the little boy’s voice, but curiosity wins over soon and he tries to look at the new grandma as subtly as he can. Which isn’t very subtly at all.

To break the mood, Gwiboon heaves Seungwon up and tickles him, smiling as he shrieks with laughter. “C’mon let’s get you in your seat, okay.” She takes her time strapping the boy into the car seat, and when she turns back Soojin is already waiting for her turn obediently. Gwiboon lifts her into the car as well, making sure they’re all secured properly.

As she’s done and the children can amuse themselves with the various stuffed toys on the backseat of the car, Gwiboon straightens and her mother gives her a long, evaluating look. Gwiboon arches an eyebrow questioningly, but the following words manage to take her by surprise even though she really knows to expect a myriad of awkward questions. “You do know you’re not supposed to lift things when you’re pregnant? Even your children.”

It’s unexpectedly easy to just huff at that. “Since when are you an expert in anything that has to do with children? When you had me you couldn’t wait to hand me over to the nanny.”

Mrs Kim ignores the jab. “I never thought you’d be the type to have a large family. You’re like me, and I certainly had enough with one child already.”

At that, Gwiboon flushes, cursing her tendency to blush when she’s feeling uncomfortable. She would never in a million years admit to her mother that technically they weren’t planning on any more children after the triplets, she was indeed determined that enough was enough. But even if the second time around was an accident, surprisingly she doesn’t really mind. “Are you still trying to pretend that you know me?” She asks instead of explaining herself, crossing her arms as if to shield herself from whatever her mother still has to say.

Mrs Kim only sighs, her voice losing the steely edge as it even holds a tiny hint of pleading. “Gwiboon. You can still come back home. Even if Jinki is… not available. We can still find you a suitable marriage.”

“A suitable marriage!?” Gwiboon laughs, unable to keep the hint of bitterness out of her voice. “Mother, look at me. I’m the mother of triplets, expecting again, and you think any of your business advocates would jump at the chance of marrying me?” She shakes her head, the smile still stuck on her lips. “Besides, I am married. To the father of my children. The love of my life. And you need to learn to accept that.”

For a second, Mrs Kim looks like she’ll get angry but she obviously manages to hold it back as she only levelly goes on. “Gwiboon, I–”

She’s cut off by a shriek from inside the car and Gwiboon spins around, only to find Seungwon crying and Hyoyoung vehemently explaining how it wasn’t really her fault. Great. As quickly and with an inhuman amount of patience Gwiboon sorts the situation out, and when she finally has Hyoyoung apologizing and all three children playing together again, she’s certain her mother has already left long ago.

To her surprise, though, Mrs Kim still stands there, shock still like she has no hurry in this world. She seems like she has a lot to say, but Gwiboon can’t handle it, not right now. So instead of listening to whatever it is she launches into a rant of her own. “You’re right in that I wasn’t planning all of this. This might not be how I imagined my life turning out, when I still thought that your business is the most important thing in the world.”

She inhales sharply, looking her mother straight in the eye. “I might not have planned this, but I’m happy. Minho makes me happy. So do my kids. The garage business has really taken off, and we earn more than we ever hoped to. There’s literally nothing you could ever offer me that would even stand a chance. Nothing.”

Mrs Kim’s expression hardens. “Your father would–”

“My father is dead,” Gwiboon interrupts. “And he has been dead to me for years before that. Stop hiding behind him.”

Shock is evident on Mrs Kim’s face, even though she doesn’t say a word.

Gwiboon can’t take the silence forever. “Look. You know how to reach me. If you want to learn to know your grandchildren, I’m not going to stop you. But you’re not allowed to bring any of that toxic attitude into my house. So call me. But not before you learn to accept that I’ve made my choice.”

She turns to her groceries, determinedly ignoring her mother until she leaves.

At first Gwiboon didn’t even realize how exhausting seeing her mother was on a mental level. The talk doesn’t leave her for the entire day, though, and when she’s finally sitting on the couch after what feels like an eternity, her legs lifted up on the coffee table, she lets her mind wander back to that meeting and how it felt to see her mother for the first time in eight years.

She can hear the faint sounds of Minho chatting with the children in the next room as he’s putting them to bed, reading them a story and making sure they’re ready for the night. It makes her smile, as she’s so unbelievably happy with her life. Yet she hopes, against all odds, that her mother would really come to her senses at some point before it’s too late. Having Minho’s parents around is wonderful, Gwiboon has grown closer to them than she ever was to her own parents but… her mother is still her mother.

She doesn’t even notice how her mind is drifting randomly before Minho sits down next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Gratefully she snuggles close, pressing her nose into his armpit. “What’s going on?” He asks, sounding somewhat alarmed. “Is something wrong?”

“Why would you ask that?” Gwiboon asks Minho’s armpit. He squirms.

“Because you’ve been getting lost in thought all day,” he explains finally, swatting at her to make her stop tickling him. “You almost gave your coffee to Soojin when she asked for juice. If you’re willingly surrendering your coffee it must be bad,” he adds jokingly.

Gwiboon smiles, appreciating the effort. She contemplates for a second, but there’s really no reason she couldn’t talk it through with him. “I met mom.”

Immediately Minho tenses slightly. “What happened?”

“Same old,” Gwiboon huffs, pulling back a little to be able to look at him properly. She rests her chin on his shoulder, pursing her lips into a disapproving frown. “She told me to come back home and let her help find me a suitable marriage.”

Minho snorts. He never stops stroking Gwiboon’s back soothingly, though, knowing how much of a sore spot her parents are to her.

“Can you imagine she thinks I’m still good merchandise?” Gwiboon laughs, the words accompanied by an eyeroll.

It’s so typical for her that Minho can’t help but grin as he reaches brush his fingers over her frown, to smooth her expression again. “You are,” he says, honesty evident in his voice. “You’re more beautiful than ever.”

The words make warmth splash in Gwiboon’s chest and although she tries not to let it show she’s pretty damn certain that Minho knows that anyway. “And you are biased,” she points out, punching his chest lightly. It can barely even be called a punch but she splays her fingers over the spot anyway, stroking the soft fabric of the shirt with her thumb.

“Maybe,” Minho agrees with a smile so bright Gwiboon falls in love a little once again. “Just shut up and take the compliment.”

They fall in comfortable silence, and it lasts so long that Gwiboon is almost drifting off before Minho’s voice startles her awake again.

“Seriously, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she answers automatically. She has to pause for a second, but she finds that she really means it. She’s a lot calmer than she thought she would be. “I told her that she’s welcome into our lives if she gets her head out of her ass first.”

Minho doesn’t comment the wording, only hums in acknowledgement and scoops her legs into his lap. They shift a little until they’re both comfortable. “Do you think it’ll happen?”

“No.” Gwiboon admits. “But hey, it’s not like I know everything. Maybe she’ll prove me wrong.”

“You know what?” Minho asks, a hint of determination on his face. “I think she will.”

Gwiboon laughs at that, rewarding him with a kiss. She definitely appreciates his will to see the positive outcomes in everything. Yet she knows that even with the sheer force of his will, with all the determination and stubbornness he has, he doesn’t really have any power over what’ll happen, what Mrs Kim will decide.

Gwiboon tells herself not to wish for the best. Yet she can’t help but allow herself to be the tiniest bit hopeful anyway.

>>>EXTRAS PART 5

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the offer is still on, if anyone has some suggestions or prompts for more ficlets in this verse, I’m open for it, just poke me :3

(I’ve also been considering doing some drabble prompt writing on tumblr but I dunno??? maybe I should first stick to the longer projects…)

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – Neverlasting

rabenhorst — Sun, 27 Apr 2014 19:41:17 GMT

Title: Neverlasting
Author: fonulyn
Rating: R
Pairing: Minho/Key
Warnings: Major character death. Mentions of death, blood, violence.
Wordcount: 10 217 words.
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: There are rules out on the streets; rules of never trusting, never feeling. Kibum ends up breaking every single one of them.
Comments: Please heed the warnings, the character death indeed is major character death. All in all, this isn’t very typical as a topic for me, but it really needed a way out so I had no other choice but to write it. And grow emotionally attached to it, haha. I hope you enjoy! :)

i. the beginning

The city never sleeps. It’s such a cliché but it’s true, with the way the streets are never quite empty. Not even the pouring rain and the fog so thick one could cut it with a knife can keep people away. Some hug their coats closer to themselves, pretending they can keep out the moisture like that, some hurry further to get safely inside as soon as they can. Kibum, however, doesn’t care. He knows he’s going to be drenched no matter what he does, so he lets his coat hang halfway open as he leans back against the rough concrete of the wall behind him.

For a second he considers lighting a cigarette but it’s no use, the last time he attempted it the cigarette ended up somewhere in the numerous puddles dotting the pavement and he has no desire in wasting another one of the expensive treats. Instead he pushes his hands further into his pockets and hunches his shoulders against the shudder that shakes his whole frame. Chills shoot up his spine, but he stubbornly stands his ground.

“Hey, kiddo.”

The low voice startles Kibum and he looks up automatically, already bracing his shoulders for a potential attack and preparing to make a run for it if he has to. The tall man standing only a few paces from him doesn’t seem to be threatening though, he has his hands in open view and his stance is so relaxed he’s obviously not there to kill Kibum. At least not yet, not before he gets what he wants.

The man is young, though, looks like he’s about Kibum’s age. Maybe that’s what makes Kibum mouth off instead of acting according to his self-preservation instinct. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?” he sneers. “You can’t be older than I am.”

At that the man moves closer, tilts his head and for the first time properly looks at Kibum. He takes in everything from the hunched shoulders and the protective stance, to how Kibum has tried to shrink into himself to look like he’s no threat to anyone. It’s the easiest trick to use to go unnoticed by anyone out here, it’s the way to go to avoid troubles and unwanted attention. All of this seems to make sense to the man as he shrugs, taking one more step closer until he leans against the wall. “Alright,” he says. Somehow it seems like he’s acknowledging his error, even though he offers nothing even close to an apology. “I might have a job for you.”

“What makes you think I’d be interested?” Kibum asks. Now that the man is standing so close to him he gets a much better look at him. He looks actually quite charming, in that… regular person sort of way. There’s a scar on his cheek but other than that he looks like he doesn’t quite belong here, like he’s supposed to live in those aristocratic circles, among the only ones in the whole city who get enough to eat regularly.

The man laughs. “Everyone is. Everyone is hungry, everyone is cold, everyone needs a job.” He cocks his head and fixes Kibum with a look, the deep brown of his eyes glimmering with something like curiosity. “You just happen to fit my purposes well. You have luck tonight.”

Something in the way the man looks at Kibum makes his skin feel a size too small and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t really think, not before he already speaks out loud. “I’m not a whore.” Which is strictly speaking not the complete truth: a man’s gotta eat and when the hunger gets bad enough… well, anything is better than the slow death by starvation. Yet it has only been two days since he had a proper warm meal, he’s not desperate enough to swallow his pride for food. Not even if this man is incredibly attractive.

“Good.” The answer startles Kibum again and he doesn’t answer. He simply stares dumbly until the stranger goes on. “There is something I need at the tavern, but I can’t get it alone. And I’m willing to pay you generously if you help me get it.”

It seems like an innocent enough offer and Kibum only takes a second to think about it before nodding slowly. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

The man grins, extending a hand for a shake. “Good. For the next couple of hours we’ll be partners, then. I’m Minho.”

Kibum takes his hand.

If Kibum has learned something during his time on the streets, it’s pickpocketing. It doesn’t even surprise him when everything goes according to their simple plan and he manages to empty the pockets of not only one but three thugs while Minho distracts them. He ends up with a few small fake coins, a piece of parchment, a cheap ring, and a lot of small knives and thick needles. He has no idea what of these is so important to Minho, but he figures he’ll find out as soon as they meet up again.

He is the first one in the small motel room so he sits down on the edge of the shaky table and waits. The walls have such big gaps in them that they barely keep the rain out. The wind is rattling inside and making it as cold as the streets. Still, there’s a bed and it looks incredibly tempting to Kibum, and a part of him just wants to press his face into the dirty pillow and sleep for a week.

It would be foolish, though. Minho would stab him in the back, take what he came for, and be gone in an instant. Kibum wants his money, and the only way he’s going to get it is to be alert when Minho finally arrives.

Finally the door creaks open and Minho steps inside, before quickly closing it behind him again. He approaches Kibum slowly, like he has no care in the world, and only comes to a halt when he’s standing at the table. “Did you get it?”

“Would have been easier if I knew what I was looking for,” Kibum points out, not without annoyance. He doesn’t gain a reaction with that, so he starts dropping the items on the table one by one. He keeps a careful eye on Minho though, on his expressions and gestures, wants to know which one of the items is the one that is so important Minho is willing to trust a stranger to get it.

He’s not disappointed since as soon as he slams the piece of parchment on the table Minho’s hand twitches towards it. Kibum is quicker, though, and he grabs it back. “So what do I get for it?” he asks, for once feeling like he’s in control and has something he can use to negotiate with.

Minho looks at him, amused. He digs a hand into his pocket and places a small piece of cloth on the table, slowly dropping three golden coins down on it, one by one. It’s more money than Kibum has seen in months. He hadn’t guessed the parchment is worth so much – hell, he isn’t worth even half of that – but he does know that no one in their right mind would start with the maximum offer.

So, slowly Kibum leans back, and tightens his fingers around the parchment. “This is much more valuable than that. I bet I could get at least four times as much.” He meets Minho’s gaze straight, refuses to be the first one who blinks, and apparently he does something right as there’s that hint of amusement flickering across Minho’s expression again.

“You have no idea who would want to buy it,” Minho points out. He smirks, the left side of his mouth lifting a little higher than the right, but the lopsidedness makes the expression somehow even more charming. Kibum sort of wants to reach out and trace his fingertips across Minho’s lips.

Instead, he shrugs. “I could ask around.”

Minho mimics the shrug. “And get your throat slit.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Kibum raises his chin, ignoring the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He is nervous, he can’t deny that, but it’s not because he’s scared of Minho. For some reason, he feels actually comfortable around him, as much as he tries to tell himself it’s idiotic.

Suddenly, Minho laughs. He shakes his head slowly, but then digs out a handful of coins from his pocket, and carefully adds them to the three already on the table. All the while he keeps his eyes directed at Kibum, and he doesn’t stop until Kibum nods at the eleventh coin. Only then, he wraps the cloth around the money, ties the corners and hands the small bundle to Kibum.

“Thanks,” Kibum says automatically, pocketing the precious parcel. He is going to be living off of that for weeks, for months if he’s careful, and an unbelievable sense of relief floods him. He hops off the table, knowing that there’s nothing left here for him. Their deal is done, there’s no reason for him to stay. Yet he lingers.

Minho steps closer then, something unreadable in his eyes as he looks straight at Kibum. It feels like he’s assessing the situation, counting his options, and it’s easy to spot the moment when he comes to a conclusion.

Still, Kibum doesn’t see it coming when Minho leans down and kisses him. Kibum is shock still for a second, cursing himself for being so stupid, so distracted, since if Minho had wanted to kill him he would be dead by now. It only takes him a few heartbeats to melt into the contact though, against every rational thought that screams at him to run as fast as he can.

Instead he kisses back. He pours his everything into the contact, gives as good as he gets, and he doesn’t even remember when a kiss shot through him from head to toe like this. Minho brings a hand up, slow and unthreatening, tracing along Kibum’s upper arm and higher. The calloused fingers brushing over his jaw are surprisingly gentle, enough to startle a soft hum out of Kibum.

When they finally break apart Kibum isn’t certain if he should be happy or disappointed that it doesn’t escalate any further. He swallows drily, searching Minho’s face for some sort of a clue of what’s going on.

It’s only when something cold is pressed into his palm that he startles back to the present moment. It’s a coin, and Minho gently curls Kibum’s fingers around it before withdrawing his own hand. The gesture sends a surge of anger through Kibum and he bites his teeth together not to spit out anything nasty. Instead he opens his palm and pushes the coin against Minho’s chest.

“I told you I’m not a whore.”

With that he pulls his hand back, uncaring that the coin clatters onto the floorboards, and spins around to get the hell out of here while he can.

Kibum’s fingers are already at the doorknob when he’s stopped in his tracks.

“You know. I could have another job for you.”

Slowly, Kibum turns around. There is nothing but honesty on Minho’s features, his gaze open as he studies Kibum and waits for his reaction. Kibum knows it’s stupid, it’s downright idiotic, and he should never ever trust anyone in this city. Especially someone he’s only just met.

Then again being on the streets has also taught him that he should always trust his gut. Instinct has saved him from more than just one tight spot in his time.

So Kibum stays.

ii. the agreement

The clean shirt feels scratchy against Kibum’s skin but he resists the urge to straighten the collar again. It’s such a treat to have fully laundered clothes, yet of course it has to be one of those form-fitting shirts made of fabric stiff enough to make anyone uncomfortable. He knows he looks stunning in it, knows that he’s equal parts eye catching and blending in.

The attention he wants. From one very specific person. And he knows the exact second he gains it.

From the corner of his eye Kibum sees the small party of men in expensive suits, entertained by a selection of women that each are more stunning than the other. There’s laughter, there’s alcohol, and there’s a lot of money thrown around carelessly. Briefly, Kibum wonders how it would be to have that much to spend, how it would be to wear clean clothes regularly and not only when the mission requires it.

He straightens slightly as one man separates from his group, a drink in hand and eyes on Kibum. Carefully Kibum hides a smirk, ducks his head down for a second only to then look up at the approaching man through his lashes. He allows the smile to dance on his lips, drawing the man in successfully, if the quickening of his steps is any indication.

“Can I buy you a drink?” the man asks as he takes the vacant seat next to Kibum. Not wasting a single second he already places a hand on Kibum’s thigh, his thumb rubbing slow circles on the inside seam of his pants. “For starters.”

“Care to introduce yourself?” Kibum asks playfully, although he knows already before he speaks that the man won’t say anything to that. Why would a congressman willingly give his own name to someone he considers a prostitute? Kibum is right in his assumption as the man throws his head back and laughs, drunken and raucous, his hand slipping even higher on Kibum’s leg.

“You don’t need to know my name for what I have in mind for you,” he winks lecherously, so close that Kibum can smell the staleness of his breath. Kibum knows better than to flinch, though, holds himself together and instead of pulling back he meets the movement until their lips are almost touching.

If he’s good at something, it’s playing people like he wants to. He teases, allows the man to get close enough to almost kiss him only to then dodge the contact at the latest possible second. He always makes sure to do it with a smile, though, shows that he’s not opposed to the idea but simply wants more privacy, wants to retreat from the busy bar.

Two drinks later, Kibum has the congressman wrapped around his little finger in all ways that matter. Playfully he tugs on the lapels of the man’s open jacket, pulls him closer to himself for a brief second of contact, and for that one moment their bodies are aligned. It’s enough to serve as a promise of more, together with the way Kibum darts his tongue out to wet his lower lip, his eyes locked with the man’s.

They stumble outside to the back alley and before Kibum manages to even properly close the door behind them the man has his hands undoing the string that holds Kibum’s pants up, obviously eager to get to what he wants. He’s breathing hotly against Kibum’s face and that is the moment Kibum’s perfect façade slips for the first time. He allows the seductive smile to drop, his expression morphing into a wicked grin. “Congressman Park. I hope you enjoyed yourself. Because this… this is the end.”

“The end?” the man asks, his eyes widening before his face scrunches up in confusion. He’s obviously displeased, his fingers tightening to the cuff of Kibum’s pants to yank him closer. “But we’re only getting started here. You kept me hanging in there! You promi–”

That’s as far as he gets before a thin blade is pushed through his throat from behind. A trickle of blood follows at first, followed by a gush and a spray that hits Kibum straight in the face. He laughs, a touch hysterically, as he realizes the first thought in his mind is that there go his clean clothes, instead of the fact that he’s watching a man literally drain out of life right before his eyes. At least he doesn’t need to put up with the unwanted advances anymore.

The body is heaved to the side then, landing on the street with a thud, but it doesn’t take long before the space it vacated is taken up again. Minho is serious as he brings his hand up and wipes a smudge of blood off Kibum’s cheek. “You were quick,” he says, arching an eyebrow. The disapproving frown on his lips speaks volumes of how much he still hates it when they have to use this tactic. Even if it’s proven to be effective the numerous times they’ve done it like this, or with roles reversed.

“I thought that was the whole point?” Kibum says. He brings his hands up to Minho’s chest, not minding the way he is now getting even more stains on his already blood splotched shirt. It feels good, having Minho’s firm body under his palms like this. In a way he feels like it makes him forget the touches he had to endure against his will mere moments ago, and when Minho places his palms on his hips he practically melts into the touch.

“Next time,” Minho begins, but doesn’t finish his sentence before kissing Kibum. It’s possessive, it’s demanding, and it sends a thrill down Kibum’s spine like nothing else. He knows what his life has become, is very aware that he makes a living assassinating people in higher standing positions. Assassinating anyone, really, as long as there’s proper payment for it.

Yet at moments like this, it feels like this is his reward. Not the heavy bag of coins waiting for them to deliver proof of the death. Not the easy survival the money will grant. Not the possible smidgens of trust he gains from the Organization when he isn’t even a part of it.

But this. Minho’s mouth on his, Minho’s fingers digging into his hips almost painfully, as if reminding him that they’re both very much alive.

When Minho pulls back, he locks his eyes with Kibum’s. “I will be the bait.” He sounds a bit too breathless to be as stern as he wishes he’d be, but the sentiment is clear enough, as is his determination.

Something warm splashes in Kibum’s chest at that. He fights it down, reminding himself that this is only physical, no matter how passionate it’s still only physical. Minho might be jealous of other people getting to touch him but he shouldn’t read too much into it. Nevertheless he cannot fight the hint of a smile that stubbornly sticks to his lips. It feels like Minho cares, as much as he doesn’t dare let himself believe it. “No you won’t if you’re not the target’s type. You might be gorgeous but you’re not that good.”

They both know that no matter the mission, failure is not an option, not with the way Kibum isn’t even officially working with Minho, who is obligated to take his orders from the leaders of the Organization. Kibum’s presence is like a public secret, known but ignored as long as he proves himself useful. One single error along their path might be what’s enough to doom him, if it’s severe enough.

“Fine,” Minho says, a bit too easily. He only manages to hold off the grin for a few heartbeats more. “From now on, I’ll have to handpick the targets more thoroughly.”

Kibum laughs and twines his fingers into the messy strands of hair long enough to curl in the perpetually foggy air. This time the kiss is less like an argument and more like a promise.

iii. the fallen

“Why the fuck did you take that fucking job!” Kibum damn near screeches as he finally manages to haul Minho inside. Carefully he deposits Minho against the cold stone wall, ignoring the pained groan even though it makes a flash of guilt punch him right in the gut. The vindictive part of him thinks that Minho deserves it, though, with the way he’d ran off by himself for a job he knew would be hazardous.

Now he has to lock the door, before anything else, make sure no one is going to barge in and finish off what they started. His hands are shaking as he bolts the door in place, and a litany of curses fall from his lips as he pushes the heavy bookshelf over. He has to use his whole bodyweight to make it finally sway and fall against the door, all of the items scattering down from the shelves into random piles on the floor. He knows that it will be one hell of a workout to get it up later, but for now privacy is the most pressing issue on his mind, and the lock alone simply wouldn’t be safe enough.

As soon as the room is secured Kibum kneels down next to Minho, all but ripping the stained shirt upwards and off. Again he ignores the pained sounds Minho makes as he’s being moved not at all gently, and frantically tries to find out the extent of the damage. He grabs a bottle of water and opens it with his teeth, pouring the contents down Minho’s side in a steady stream that washes away most of the sticky red liquid oozing from the wound.

All these years Kibum has lived on the streets and he has never been afraid of blood. He’s never been afraid of cuts, of wounds, of people getting hurt. But right now he can’t keep his hands from shaking uncontrollably as they’re soaked in red. He feels like retching but he forces himself to be calm, pushes back the wave of panic that tries to take over. He needs to stop the bleeding and he needs to do it right now.

Afterwards Kibum wouldn’t be able to recount how he manages to dig out the bullet from Minho’s flesh with the inadequate tools and way too unimpressive medical knowledge. Thus far he’s always been the one who’s been hurt worse, and Minho has taken care of him with near professionalism. But finally the bullet makes a sick squelching sound as it’s pulled out, clinking on the concrete floor a second later.

Kibum has only a split second to turn before he doubles over and throws up.

There’s a lot of blood even after Kibum does his best to mop it all up. Kibum knows when a human body has lost too much though, has seen it numerous times, and he knows that Minho will pull through. He’ll probably need weeks to recover, he will be too weak to work a job for way too long, but he’s going to live and he is going to get better. That’s what Kibum keeps chanting to himself as he waits for Minho to wake up. He has only managed a fitful nap in between, but he cannot rest easy before he sees Minho’s eyes flutter open again.

Only when it happens, together with the wave of relief comes the wave of anger. Minho barely manages a weak smile before Kibum punches his shoulder, hard. He does make sure it’s not the injured side, but he doesn’t take it easy, as proven by Minho’s weak gasp. “You fucker!” he sneers. “I told you not to take that job! I knew they were too much for one single fucking person to take on! Why don’t you ever listen to me!?”

“Kibum,” Minho sighs, “I have my orders. I had to do it.”

“You didn’t have to do it alone,” Kibum hisses through clenched teeth. He wants to punch Minho again, and this time make it hurt even more, but instead he grabs Minho’s head and leans down to smash their lips together. He doesn’t hold back and lets his anger show through the contact, but he’s certain that he’s pouring other feelings into it as well, everything from the all consuming worry and the blind panic from earlier.

Kibum presses his forehead against Minho’s, his eyes closed as he finally exhales and allows most of the tension to seep off him. “You didn’t have to do it alone, you fucknut. Next time you pull a stunt like this I’ll kill you myself. Understood?”

“Understood,” Minho nods, way too serious. There’s not a hint of mocking in his eyes. Slowly he slides his hands to Kibum’s sides and urges him to move closer, only satisfied when Kibum finally shifts to straddle his thighs. “Come on,” he breathes out, although in the silence of the basement it sounds oddly loud. “Take my mind off the pain.”

As they keep kissing Kibum places a hand on Minho’s chest, right atop his heart. Maybe he imagines the strong heartbeats instead of actually feeling them but it soothes him down anyway, and his frayed nerves are marginally calmed as he finally begins to believe that they’re safe.

For now, at least. Kibum doesn’t have it in him to focus on anything else but the present moment. For a while, he can allow himself to soak in the closeness, to be thankful of the way they still have this.

They’re both out of breath by the time Minho pulls back from the kiss and breaks the silence, laughing despite the way his voice breaks. “Stop panicking, Kibum,” he says, with a little headshake. “I am not going to die from this.” He’s pale from the blood loss, his face streaked with dirt and his clothes cold with the mud that’s still sticking to them from earlier. Kibum knows he should help Minho into some dry clothes but he’s tired, he’s so tired, he doesn’t even know how he made it awake this long.

He drops his head forward against Minho’s shoulder. “What makes you so fucking sure?” It lacks all heat, though, as they both know what the odds are. Still the way Minho sounds so sure, the way he speaks so flippantly, it makes the remains of anger still flare up weakly.

Minho shrugs. “The only person in this world who can kill me is you.”

Instantly Kibum lifts his head to look for any signs that Minho is joking. He’s not. There’s something eerily serious in his peaceful expression, and Kibum is plainly too exhausted to explore the meanings of that any further. So he exhales a weak sigh. “You’d better keep me on your side, then.”

By way of answer Minho kisses him then, cradles his jaw in his palm in a touch way too gentle. It’s in crass contrast with the way Kibum is grasping on Minho’s shoulders, on his chest, in his desperate need to find more skin on skin contact. In his haste he almost pulls the bandages aside, and only realizes it when Minho bites back a pained cry.

Kibum curses, long and loud, and pulls back enough to be able to check that the bandaging is still intact enough to do the job. Again Minho groans, but Kibum only spares him a stern look. “You deserved this, asshole. Now quit the theatrics. You’ll be fine.” He knows it’s not an act, if anything Minho is being more stoic than the situation would call for, but despite the relief he is still angry and he knows it won’t change anytime soon.

Nevertheless, that only makes Minho laugh, low and throaty. “I know.” He leans his head back against the rough wall, a grin still dancing on his lips. “Now come here and take my mind off the pain.” He doesn’t stop for long enough to gain an answer but instead grabs Kibum’s hip with his good hand and pulls him closer the best he can.

It’s not difficult, not with the way Kibum goes willingly. It’s so easy to melt into it and forget, let go of everything else. He loses himself in the touches, in the kisses, in the frantic need for more that keeps building up in them both. Kibum keeps his palms on Minho’s shoulders, his forehead pressed against Minho’s, as he rides him achingly slow.

The cold air in the basement feels even icier against their sweaty skin, the tremors adding up to the waves of pure unadulterated sensation that pulses through them, from head to toe. Everything seems to take longer now, the world turning in slow motion despite the adrenaline fuelled urgency.

Finally they’re lying spent in each other’s arms, the aftershocks fading with each heartbeat. Kibum counts every single one of them, his ear pressed against Minho’s chest. That’s how he feels it when Minho starts shivering, even though Minho tries to cover it up the best he can.

With great reluctance Kibum forces himself to get up and rummage through one of the cardboard boxes they keep their emergency supplies in. He emerges with a thick blanket, and kicks a thin mattress down from where it had been leaning against the far wall. It’s not much for comfort, but it’s going to keep them warmer than if they’d crash on the bare floor. It’s going to be cold enough either way.

“C’mon, Minho,” Kibum groans as he pulls one of Minho’s arms over his shoulder, dragging him towards the mattress. Minho is of only little help, if any, but somehow they manage to arrange themselves until they’re tucked neatly under the same blanket, sharing body heat.

It doesn’t take long for Minho to fall asleep, exhaustion and blood loss finally knocking him out for the second time. Kibum stays awake for far longer. He stares at the shelf that’s still leaning against the door, even though he barely sees it in the darkness. He wonders if someone is after them, if they will be found out and slaughtered right where they lay.

He is still angry at Minho for being so goddamn blind, so goddamn stubborn, such a self-sacrificing idiot. Minho thinks that by going on these missions alone he can keep Kibum safe, yet he never once stops to ask if Kibum wants it. He doesn’t understand that Kibum would rather they take the risk together.

Despite his anger, he shifts closer to Minho anyway, presses into his arms and finally allows himself to relax into the warmth. This kind of intimacy is new to them, sharing space and being close without it being immediately sexual or target orientated. Still the way Minho’s arm tightens around him even in his sleep speaks volumes of how far they’ve come, how fast they’ve plummeted down this path. How they yearn for this now, even more than for the short moment of release.

Most of all, Kibum is scared. He is terrified. He never used to be, not like this.

Before, he had nothing to lose.

iv. the hunted

Logically, Kibum knows that this moment had to come, sooner or later. Even if they’ve never actually failed a job before, not entirely, it doesn’t mean they never would. There are way too many variables at the best of times, too many things to keep under control, and more than once they’ve been merely saved by sheer dumb luck.

No one’s luck can last forever.

Regardless of that, it feels like a solid kick on the nuts when Kibum realizes that they let their mark get away. He was distracted for a second, his thoughts not completely in it, and he missed his signal. There he was, completely in reach, all he would’ve had to do was grab his knife and finish everything with one swift stab.

And he missed it. He screwed up.

There’s really no way to run after the mark now that the moment is gone, not with the bodyguards back in control and the window of opportunity closing in a split second. If he even tries that he’ll end up dead on the floor before he can even as much as fucking get a scratch on his target. No one’s reflexes are quick enough, no one is going to overpower four bodyguards on their own.

The worst part is the horror that flashes over Minho’s expression when he realizes the same thing. He did his part, the diversion and distraction, and everything was set up for Kibum – only for him to fail.

Quickly, before anyone notices him looking terrified and out of place, Kibum slips out of the room. He ends up in the kitchen of all places, but thankfully no one seems to pay him any mind as he weaves his way through the busy workers towards the backdoor. This was not a part of the plan, either, but apparently the shock switched his brains straight into autopilot and every step he takes is robotically directed towards getting the hell out of here.

Kibum throws the door open and cold air all but hits him in the face, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even bother closing the door behind himself, but keeps on walking.

He keeps on walking.

From that second on Kibum knows he’s a marked man. If it had been Minho to make the mistake, the Organization might’ve been lenient, they might’ve let it slide and allowed Minho to prove his worth again. It’s different for Kibum, though. He isn’t officially even one of them, he isn’t under no oath and no obligation to believe in their ideologies, and now… They have absolutely no reason to tolerate him any longer.

The first attack comes only twenty six hours after the slip-up. Kibum is waiting for Minho at a downtown pub when there’s a thin blade pressed on his throat, close enough to apply pressure but not forceful enough to cut through skin. “I think,” a voice whispers in his ear, “that my boss would be pleased if I brought him your head.”

Kibum doesn’t think. He uses his full bodyweight – the exact way Minho once taught him – to fall back against the attacker and it indeed causes them to stumble while the knife ends up further from his vulnerable throat.

He spins around and in one swift movement buries the blade of his own much larger knife between the assassin’s ribs. The first thing he notices is the bright red lipstick, and the next second her eyes fly wide in surprise as she realizes she’s been stabbed. A laughter startles from her, but that’s all there is before she’s falling against the wall behind her. Kibum makes sure to catch her in time, to gently set her down on the bench lining the wall. This way, it looks like they’re almost embracing, and no one will pay any mind.

The encounter leaves his heart beating like a drum. There’s nothing good about this.

It’s so dark Kibum can’t even see his own hand where it’s resting on Minho’s chest. He slides his palm up, tangles his fingers into the dark strands of hair curling in the back of Minho’s neck. Minho’s hair is getting long again, Kibum notes distantly, before using the grip to pull Minho in. The kiss that follows is too harsh, not enough patience and way too much teeth, but it does nothing to slow him down.

When they break apart Minho pulls back a little and Kibum can imagine the way he’s squinting at him through the darkness, trying to see his face to figure out what’s going on. “What is –” Minho begins, and Kibum panics. He doesn’t want to, he can’t, he just… isn’t prepared to talk about any of this right now.

So he kisses Minho again. Shamelessly he licks into his mouth, nips a little on Minho’s lower lip, uses every single dirty trick he has learned during their time together as distraction. He can feel the exact moment when Minho’s focus shifts fully into the contact between them, and that’s when he knows he got off the hook.

Easily, Kibum falls to the side, bringing Minho down with him. He parts his thighs, traps Minho between them, and finally allows the row of kisses to break for long enough to speak. “Shut up,” he breathes into Minho’s ear, clutching his shoulders to keep him close. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Minho doesn’t resist.

Throughout it all, Kibum clings to Minho like his life depends on it, like he might just float off into nothingness if he didn’t anchor himself into Minho’s skin, with his mouth, with his fingertips. He wants nothing more than to burn this fear out from inside of him with the sheer heat of what’s between them. He wants it quick and rough, but Minho has other ideas.

Minho is infuriatingly tender, as if he has a point to prove. He takes his time prepping Kibum, waits until he has Kibum cursing and shaking, practically threatening him to get it the fuck on. When he finally pushes inside of Kibum it’s like an answer to all of his prayers and at the same time not even nearly enough.

Every sound is amplified by the darkness around them, echoing off the walls to fill the small space. Even though Minho’s voice is a mere whisper it still seems unnaturally loud when he breathes out Kibum’s name, demanding his attention by coevally snapping his hips forward harshly, making a spark of pleasure explode in Kibum’s consciousness. It ensures that Kibum doesn’t hear what he says, though, the words turning into an incomprehensible murmur that regardless makes a shiver run down his spine.

“W-what?” he gasps out, shaking his head a little as if to clear it properly. It doesn’t particularly help, but Minho slows down, allowing him some time to breathe.

Minho presses their sweaty foreheads together. “It had to be you,” he says, in a hoarse whisper, his voice cracking on the last word. It sounds urgent, like he needs to get the words out, but none of it makes an ounce of sense to Kibum. He doesn’t have the time to ask, though, not before Minho repeats himself, even more quietly, barely audibly. “It always had to be you.”

In all honesty, Kibum has a vague feeling he should know what that means, that it’s a reference to something much more than what’s happening between them at this instant. Yet he has no patience for it, he has no presence of mind to focus on anything else but the sweat-slick skin and burning touches.

So he hushes Minho, yanks him in for yet another kiss, and gets exactly what he wants.

v. the goodbye

Kibum curses the thick fog that seems to worm under his clothes and into every single pore, making him feel cold to the core. He’s always cold in this city and he hates it. He hates the buildings reaching towards the sky, like needles almost long enough to pierce through the heavy curtain of dark clouds. He hates the wide streets, the narrow pathways connecting them, the cobblestones rubbed smooth by millions of pairs of feet that have walked over them.

A strong gush of wind grasps his jacket and almost yanks it off his form and quickly he wraps his arms around himself. At least it’s not raining yet. Maybe he can get inside before the skies rip open.

For a moment Kibum still stays in the street corner, watching people walk by without even sparing him a glance. The city never sleeps, indeed. He pushes his hands further into his pockets and hunches his shoulders. So goddamn cold.

Kibum is already on the verge of turning on his heels and leaving when he finally spots a familiar figure walking towards him. He could recognize Minho anywhere, from his posture alone, but this time seeing him doesn’t bring him the usual instant rush of relief. There’s a second person with him, and that alone is enough to make Kibum’s palms turn sweaty.

The two men stop right in front of him, and Kibum acknowledges the small, skinny man’s presence with a nod. Kibum doesn’t even know his name, but he does know that this is one of the higher ups Minho gains his assignments from. He has no idea how high the man actually is in the hierarchy of the Organization, but obviously he is important enough to deal with the little criminals like Minho.

And like Kibum.

The silence doesn’t last long, the man only takes a second to size Kibum from head to toe with his tiny charcoal eyes. Then he turns to Minho, keeps looking at him even though he clearly addresses Kibum. “You have become a liability to our superiors.” He spares Kibum a quick glance. “Since you’ve helped us before, you are granted a choice.”

That makes Kibum’s temper flare up. “A choice? What would that be?” Minho places a calming hand on Kibum’s arm but it’s shaken away angrily. Kibum knows that by now he has nothing to lose, and he is damn well not going to hide his temper. “Are you going to let me choose who kills me? You or one of your guard dogs? Or the method? Can I pick between a gun and a knife? How very generous of you.”

The man looks at Kibum passively, not a single muscle even as much as twitching on his face. “Save it. You have a week. It’s more than you deserve.” Only the slight sneer betrays his distaste, with the way he otherwise looks like he’s way above dealing with any of this. Like Kibum isn’t even worthy of his words. “A week. Then someone will be sent after you.”

Finally a realization dawns on Kibum. He stands there frozen, completely petrified. “You want me to kill myself.”

Slowly, the man’s lips stretch into a thin smile. He almost looks like he wants to laugh, but not a single sound comes out. He turns and walks away.

“Kibum. Kibum. Come on look at me!” The sound of Minho’s voice, the slight hint of panic in it, is what finally draws Kibum from his trance like state. Only then he realizes they’re in a hotel room, one with not even an actual bed in it. There’s a desk with a drawer, a mouldy carpet and a foldable camp bed that looks worse than the thin mattress back in their hideout. It’s such a typical sight, and yet it feels completely foreign to Kibum.

“You are freaking me out,” Minho says finally, voice small and resigned. He’s been kneeling on the floor in front of Kibum but now gets up and gingerly sits beside him on the bumpy mattress. His palm is still on Kibum’s thigh, as if he cannot bear the thought of not having any contact with him.

Kibum laughs. He knows it comes off hysterical. “I am freaking out. What else am I supposed to do?” He closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and it doesn’t really ease the wave of nausea that rips through him. It takes long, several heartbeats, before he finally manages to force himself to turn to look at Minho again. “We need to run away. We need to get the hell away from here, for as far as we can.”

He doesn’t know what he expects, but it certainly isn’t the way Minho drops his head forward and runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated. Even after he leans his forehead against his palms, his elbows set on his knees. It looks like he’s barely holding on, and Kibum doesn’t know what to do with it.

Minho is supposed to be the strong one. He’s supposed to stay calm and help Kibum through this. He’s not supposed to be as shaken. He’s not supposed to be as scared.

Finally after what feels like an eternity Minho speaks, not looking up. “We can’t.” He sounds truly regretful, every word choked off. “We can’t. All we know is this place, if we’d run they’d send people after us. People who know the terrain, who are familiar with wherever we’d go.”

He stops and looks up, swallows hard. Kibum only stares at his Adam’s apple bob up and down. This isn’t really happening. This is a figment of his imagination.

“We need to stay here,” Minho continues finally, searching for Kibum’s gaze with his own. “We have a better chance. It’s safer.”

Kibum laughs. It’s an ugly sound, echoing off the thin walls, and it seems that with each reflection it gains more hollow bitterness. “Safer for who!?” he practically shrieks. “For you!? Certainly not for me. Those fuckers want me dead. They won’t stop before I’ve bled out in front of them and you’re going to let them?”

The worst part is the betrayal. It feels like a punch to the gut. Or, rather, like being thrown off a cliff. There’s a split second of hope at first but then everything comes crashing down, fast. Kibum honestly thought Minho would leave with him. No was never an option. He knows what Minho feels for him. At least he thought he knew.

Slightly awkwardly Minho tries to circle his arms around Kibum but Kibum fights him off, pushes him away and scrambles backwards until he cannot get any further without falling off the bed. He stares at Minho from wild eyes, willing himself not to cry. “You are going to let them.” It’s a mere whisper, barely audible. Yet the way it makes Minho’s face fall tells it’s nothing short of impactful.

Again Minho moves closer and this time Kibum doesn’t do anything to stop him as he grabs Kibum’s hands in his own. “I wouldn’t let them do that to you.” He looks straight into Kibum’s eyes, earnest and obviously meaning every word. “I’ll protect you.”

Kibum wants to believe that. He wants nothing more than to believe that. Yet it’s not that easy.

“Minho,” Kibum sighs. He wants to nod, to agree, but he knows the world doesn’t turn that way. He struggles to speak but he knows he has to force the words out now, or he never will. “I… To me, you’re worth more than anyone else in this world.” He finally meets Minho’s gaze, trying to show him how much he means it. “But no one is worth my life. Not even you.”

He is not completely sure if that is even true. The heaviness in his heart begs to differ. But he’s not ready to die, he’s not ready to give up without a fight. If Minho isn’t willing to fight with him… then he is just going to have to figure out a way to do it on his own.

The frustration is clear on Minho’s face as he bites his lower lip so harshly it nearly draws blood. “You just need to show them you’re an asset,” he says, “that you’re valuable to them. One botched job isn’t enough to negate all of the jobs you’ve done for them. You’re useful to them.”

“I’m not,” Kibum laughs hysterically. The hollowness in his chest seems to be spreading to his limbs, aching all over. “I don’t believe in their ideals and they know it. A sudden reformation would do nothing. I’m a liability. I am disposable.”

Silence. It only proves that there’s nothing to say to argue that. Minho keeps wringing his hands, focused on his fingers as if all the answers are hidden somewhere there.

Kibum knows it’s in vain, but he pleads, one more time. “Please, Minho. Run away with me. We can… join the Lee gang.” It’s a long shot, he knows. He might have a chance at that but Minho would never be welcomed into that group after officially being in the Organization. Frantically, he scrambles for a clear thought. “We can get out of the country. We can…”

“We can’t,” Minho interrupts. He looks up and his eyes are glimmering, yet there’s a stubborn set to his jaw as he has obviously made up his mind. “Don’t you see it!? They’d hunt us down no matter where we go. We’d be as good as dead. Our only chance is to stay here. You have to convince them you’re worth something to them. It’s the only way we can keep you safe.”

Convince them? If these years he has spent working by Minho’s side, one job after another, never demanding anything for himself from the Organization itself… there isn’t really any way he could do a magic trick like that in the week he’s given. “Is that really what you think?”

Minho seems almost relieved as he nods. “Yes.”

“Fine,” Kibum says, swallowing hard as he tries to appear more controlled than he is. “Fine.”

When Minho reaches out for him he allows it, sinks into the embrace and soaks in the closeness.

One last time.

In the morning Kibum is gone. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, not really, and Minho thinks nothing of it before it comes apparent that Kibum hasn’t come back in nearly a week. It’s longer than either of them has gone without seeing the other after their arrangement got regular. After their worlds started orbiting around one another.

Through his contacts Minho finds out that no one has actually been sent after Kibum, yet at least. So he knows he’s alive, he knows he can look after himself, and he keeps waiting for him to come back. He stays in the same hideouts they always used, he lingers in the same bars and on the same streets, he hopes against hope that he’d catch at least a glimpse of Kibum.

After eight months he’s beginning to doubt if that will ever happen. He forces himself to stick to routine, anyway. One day at a time. It hurts, more than he ever thought possible, but he has no other choice.

After thirteen months he hears there’s a new hitman in the Lee gang. It’s the first time he doubts himself, questions his conviction. He shakes it off. By this point he needs to stick to his decision. It’s all he’s got left.

After seventeen months he gives up on ever seeing Kibum again.

At least he knows Kibum is alive. That is the thought he clings to. That is how he thinks life will go on, possibly forever.

Thirty-two months after he last saw Kibum he gets a direct order: kill or be killed. He knows his fate is sealed.

vi. the end

“I didn’t think you’d show.” The low timbre of Minho’s voice is achingly familiar as he suddenly steps away from the shadows, into the light cast by one of the overhead lamps. He’s grinning, in that typical way that makes only one side of his mouth quirk up cockily. It instantly sends a sharp jolt of anger through Kibum, mixed with a myriad of feelings he determinedly extinguishes the second they appear.

Instinctively Kibum reaches for the gun he’s tucked in his belt, the cold weight of metal grounding him in a way nothing else can. Not anymore. “It’s not every day that the infamous Choi Minho wants to meet you.” He shrugs, cocking the gun to be ready. “Or wants to kill you?”

“Don’t be absurd, Kibum.” Minho steps closer, swirling his own gun as if to make it clear he’s not unarmed, either. “You should know wanting and needing to are polar opposites in our world.” His grin melts away. As soon as the cockiness is gone there’s a hint of vulnerability, something open in his expression. Something that reminds Kibum of the first time they met. Minho gives Kibum a sharp look as no answer is forthcoming, daring him to argue.

There’s nothing to argue about, though, Kibum knows it as well as Minho does. In the lives they’ve chosen, it’s integral to survival to do what they have to, not what they want to. It’s a lesson he learned his first week on the streets and yet he still fell into the trap life set for him a few years later. A trap named Choi Minho. A trap that still makes a shiver go down his spine, still haunts him with memories of calloused hands travelling the smooth planes of his body.

“You know,” Minho pauses, waits for Kibum to arch an eyebrow before he goes on. “We should get rid of the guns. We were always better at close combat.”

The implications in the words make Kibum swallow but none of his inner turmoil shows on his expression as he lowers the gun and allows it to drop on the concrete floor of the underground garage. Minho follows suit right after, flexing his fingers around the handle of a large carving knife instead.

Kibum had expected to be nervous, or furious, or heartbroken, or any number of things he could dream up for the confrontation, but he never thought he’d feel this eerie calmness. He bends down to snatch the knife he’s hiding in his right boot, all the while keeping his eyes trained on Minho to watch his every move. “The security?”

“Gone.”

The only answer Kibum gives is a nod. It feels like that’s all it takes to break the ice since the next second everything is a blur of movement, instinct taking over all the unnecessary thinking. Kibum is the one who first gets a hit in as he catches the side of Minho’s head with the handle of his knife, gaining enough momentum to be able to aim a knee to his crotch. What he doesn’t foresee is the grip Minho gets on the leather of his jacket then, and before he knows it he’s slammed right against the cold stone wall with a blade on his throat.

There’s a trickle of blood on Minho’s temple as he leans in, brings his face mere inches apart of Kibum’s. “Sneaky little bitch,” he laughs and somehow it sounds like a compliment. “Do you think I don’t remember every dirty trick you have up your sleeve? Half of those I taught you.” He can’t hold the bitterness off his voice, not completely. “It hasn’t been that long since you snuck out on me.”

Kibum hisses, his temper flaring up and thankfully drowning out all the other unwanted emotions. Anger he can deal with, regret and hurt not so much. Especially as he never expected to see the same longing he feels reflected back in Minho’s eyes. He forces himself to ignore it. He can’t afford to be distracted by anything, not right now.

He squirms slightly, enough to get more leverage from his position against the wall, enough to reach the pipe that’s sticking through the concrete to his left. “A lot can happen in three years, don’t you think?” he practically purrs, ignoring the rush of blood in his ears as he leans in. The blade presses into his skin, sharp enough to pierce through it, leaving a red welt below his Adam’s apple. His lips are so close to Minho’s they’re sharing the same breath, inhaling and exhaling in sync out of old habit.

It’s Kibum who breaks the standstill by capturing Minho’s mouth with his own. At first the knife presses more firmly against his throat but he suppresses the wince, focuses on the heat that bursts through him at the familiarity of the kiss. Suddenly Minho’s free hand is in his hair, pulling on the dark strands hard enough to hurt, and yet neither of them is willing to break the almost violent mesh of lips and teeth and tongue.

It would be way too easy to get lost in the moment, to forget the real world and fall back into what used to be. Neither of them can deny that the need is there, the urge to run and hide and get back what they used to share. Yet neither of them is delusional enough to think it’s in the realm of possibilities. Not anymore. It’s kill or be killed, sacrifice your feelings to keep breathing in the first place.

The knife on Kibum’s throat retreats, just the tiniest bit, and that’s when he takes his chances. He uses the grip he has of the pipe to level himself up and with all of his strength slams his knee into Minho’s stomach. It doesn’t gain him the freedom he’d been expecting as Minho manages to grasp him, making them both clamber on the floor in a heap of tangled limbs.

They both lose their knives in the ruckus, and Kibum knows that he’s the underdog when it comes to a fight with their bare hands. It doesn’t mean he can’t land in some good blows though, and as long as they’re down on the ground he can use his shorter limbs as an actual advantage. Still neither of them knows how many hits they’ve dealt. Minho’s nose looks like it must be broken and Kibum knows he’s got a bleeding cut in the back of his head from having it bashed on the floor.

Nothing slows it down. Not the broken ribs, not the bloody wounds, not the exhaustion kept at bay only by the flowing adrenaline.

Somehow Minho ends up on top of Kibum, a large palm on his throat pressing down to keep him still. He might be saying something, but Kibum’s head is throbbing, every part of him aching as he tries to struggle for a dash of air in his burning lungs. His mind barely registers it when he manages to brush against the handle of a knife – Minho’s, he realizes as his fingers twine around it in a grip as hard as he can manage.

Completely driven by instinct, without any finesse Kibum lunges the knife forward, twists it into Minho’s chest. He’s starting to see black splotches in the edges of his vision and he knows he needs to get out of the deathly grip if he wants to make it out of here. He doesn’t even realize when the pressure is gone, when he hits again, and again, until Minho is falling off of him with a thud.

The first rush of air is painful but Kibum keeps his eyes closed only for a few heartbeats. He can’t afford to stay still, not when his life might still be hanging by a thread. Gathering the last of his strength he scrambles up, his knees shaky as he presses his side against the pillar. There’s a red handprint where he searched for support first, and he can still feel the stickiness on his fingers.

Minho is lying on the floor, in a quickly forming pool of his own blood. It makes Kibum’s heart stop beating until he wills himself to calm down again. This is the sight he wanted to avoid the most, of all possible outcomes. He feels cold, so cold, as if the life is draining out of him instead of Minho.

“I always knew.” The words are a mere whisper and Minho smiles. The blood on his face makes it a macabre sight, a mockery of the feelings it represents. His breathing is harder now, every inhalation a useless struggle to fill his lungs with oxygen. Kibum is still standing a couple of steps from him, frozen in place, as all he can do is stare at the man dying in front of him. He wants to go closer, wants to press his lips against Minho’s bloodied ones, wants to… It really doesn’t matter what he wants.

The light has dimmed in Minho’s eyes and although his gaze is directed straight at Kibum he can’t focus on anything, not anymore. He tries to speak but it ends up a gurgle, forcing him to start coughing. It’s all in vain, the more he hacks the more blood spills out and again Kibum feels the need to reach out, to touch, to wipe away the smudges from Minho’s skin. His hand twitches on his side, fingers curling, and he yearns to feel that familiar warm skin beneath his fingertips again.

He doesn’t move.

When the coughing calms down, Minho laughs, an aborted sound that ends up making his body convulse. “It had to be you,” he mumbles, words so sluggish it’s hard to make any sense of them, “it always had to be you.” He laughs, even though it leads to another violent cough.

He says nothing more. Kibum stays for as long as he can hear the rattling breaths, for as long as Minho’s ribcage moves ever so slightly. It almost feels as if he’s willing Minho to keep on breathing with the force of his gaze alone. He imagines every heartbeat, as he still remembers the course they used to take, the rhythm of it as familiar as his own.

Until it’s all over.

It’s silent.

Finally, he lets the knife clatter to the ground, a shudder shaking him to the core. His hands are trembling and he shoves them into his pockets, ignoring the blotches of blood all over, the way his shirt is practically drenched with it.

Something constricts in his chest, tightens and collapses, until there’s nothing left but vast, empty darkness.

With quick steps Kibum leaves the underground garage, never looking back, holding his breath until he steps out into the shadows of the alleyway.

---

check the masterlist for more fic! | follow me on tumblr~ | add this journal for updates

I don’t usually write death and destruction, but this one needed a way out. So it’s a new genre venture for me, and I really hope it turned out alright!

Some of you might’ve read the drabble on tumblr (also available on lj) that this is based on (and from which I shamelessly nicked the title, too). Actually, the original drabble serves as the last part of this fic, with some minor alterations. I simply wanted to write their story, to explain how things came about and why it all turned out how it did.

ALSO big big thanks to koukaiaru for helping me with this!♥ :3

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee –High Maintenance Extras 3/?

rabenhorst — Fri, 28 Mar 2014 18:23:18 GMT

Title: High Maintenance Extras 3/?
Author: fonulyn
Rating: PG
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: some brief mentions
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 1104
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Being a parent is no picnic. So Minho arranges them a little break from it.
Comments: Another High Maintenance ficlet~ I hope you like it! This is the last one I actually have written for now :)

It’s already dark outside, the city lights reflecting on the puddles of water the steady rain has created on the asphalt. Gwiboon can barely keep her eyes open with how tired she is, but the cool glass of the car window feels good against her forehead so she keeps gazing at the flickering lights mindlessly. The only reason she’s awake is probably how hungry she is, and she wishes with all her might that they’d already get to the takeout place and she could order half of the things on the menu.

“C’mon, don’t fall asleep on me now,” Minho laughs, softly, placing his hand on her thigh to give it a light squeeze. “This is the first time you’re out of the house since you got home from the hospital. Try to enjoy it a bit!” He has equally dark circles under his eyes though, and although he does get out of the house almost daily it’s pretty much only to work. She knows there’s not much to be jealous of.

“Your mother is a gift from heavens,” Gwiboon sighs. She tilts her head to be able to smile at Minho, covering his hand with hers. “Are you sure she can stay a week? It sounds too good to be true.” She’s already fantasizing about a good night’s sleep, at least five hours of uninterrupted sleep, maybe even more. It’s a luxury she hasn’t been granted since the babies were born. It’d be bad enough with triplets already, but when two out of three also suffer from colic it means the young parents are functioning with severe lack of rest.

“She said a week or more, so it should be doable.” Minho nods, not even trying to cover his amusement. He withdraws his hand from Gwiboon’s thigh, though, as they’ve finally reached their destination. They’re lucky and there’s a parking space right there, in front of the restaurant.

Gwiboon takes it as one sign of her tiredness that she doesn’t even realize where they are before they’re already stepping inside, the door held open for them by a polite doorman. She takes in their surroundings and her eyes widen in surprise. “I… I thought we were going to get takeout or burgers or something?” Her hand flies to her hair, desperately trying to smooth down the stubborn strands. “I look dreadful! I didn’t even put on makeup!” She looks almost ready to panic, before Minho grabs her shoulders and spins her around until they’re facing one another.

“You are beautiful,” he says, with utmost conviction, “stop fretting about it. And it’s not like this is the fanciest place in town. It’s just a slight upgrade from burgers.”

“We’re not going to take takeout, are we?” she asks, just to make sure, and when he shakes his head she laughs. “Why couldn’t you have warned me!?” Playfully she hits his shoulder, but then just snakes her arm in his and lets him lead her further. “Next time you’ll tell me so I can dress for the occasion.” She at least thanks her luck that she chose to put on some nicer pants and a clean top, instead of the wrinkly track pants she’s used to wearing at home.

“You could’ve just counted two and two together, sweetie,” Minho points out, nudging her side with his elbow. The way he emphasises the petname makes Gwiboon laugh again, as it’s basically code for ‘you moron’. She doesn’t mind though, she really is an idiot for not realizing it’s their anniversary today. Minho has always been better at keeping track of these things.

They’re seated at a small table and receive their menus, and she takes a moment to just appreciate the fact that there’s no hurry anywhere. There’s a slight tinge of worry when she thinks of her children, but she knows they are in good care with their grandmother and can survive a couple of hours, easily, so she tries to put the feeling aside. It’s not every day she gets surprise restaurant dinners.

After they order, Gwiboon sighs happily, and when Minho reaches his hand over the table she grabs it in hers. “Thank you.” She might still think she looks horrible, she’s not even sure when she last looked into the mirror, but it’s so not going to prevent her from enjoying this. Besides, if Minho still looks at her like she’s something precious, it’s not like she could ask for anything more. She gets lost in thought as they wait for the food, toying with the ring in his finger. The metal is cold at first, but soon warms up against her thumb.

“What are you thinking?” Minho asks at length, an amused glint in his eyes as he looks at her.

She laughs and gives a small headshake. “I was just thinking of the kids. Want to make a bet? Now that your mother is here, they’ll sleep like little angels.” She tries to sound exasperated, but the fondness overrides every other emotion, and she simply can’t stop smiling. “I swear, this is karma. I talked so much about not wanting twins for how much work they are… and look at us now!”

Minho hums, pulling his hand back as the waiter appears with their orders. He even takes the first bite of his food, before he looks up at her again. “Think of the bright side,” he points out, “you don’t need to go through the swollen ankles and aching back again.” He sounds somewhat smug when he says it, and it earns him a kick at his ankle under the table.

“Are you saying you’re done now, then?” Gwiboon asks after a moment, partly teasing and partly honestly curious. “You really don’t want your own soccer team?” She knows they talked about maybe two kids, but it was years ago and she’s seen how completely smitten Minho is with the little ones.

“Gwiboon,” Minho sighs, but the grin that’s tugging on his lips doesn’t make him sound very convincing. “Let’s just try to get to the point when we actually sleep through the nights and then we can talk about it again.” He doesn’t let her interrupt, but shuts her up by nudging her leg under the table. “I think three is a good number.”

The words make warmth pool in Gwiboon’s chest, something tugging at her heart in a way that makes it almost hard to breathe for a second. She always thought life would be a roller coaster ride of emotions but when she stepped into the cart she never expected anything quite like this. She swallows, and suddenly it’s easy to breathe again, only the tingling happiness left.

“Yeah,” she agrees, practically beaming. “Three is a good number.”

EXTRAS 4

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there ya go :3 if anyone has some suggestions or prompts for more drabbles I’m open for it, but this is as much as I have for now :3

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee –High Maintenance Extras 2/?

rabenhorst — Fri, 28 Mar 2014 18:22:36 GMT

Title: High Maintenance Extras 2/?
Author: fonulyn
Rating: PG
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: some brief mentions
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 1331
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Minho gets the scare of his life.
Comments: Here’s another ficlet set in the universe of High Maintenance! :3

When Minho comes home he expects to find Gwiboon resting on the couch, probably leafing through pamphlets for takeout since these days she can be trusted to crave something every day. At least it narrows down the decision making process, so Minho doesn’t really mind allowing her to order what she wishes. He’s keeping an eye on the level of healthiness, though, and is ready to intervene if this gets out of hands.

Yet this time, what expects him at home is completely different. He walks in and there’s no sight of Gwiboon anywhere, and she doesn’t answer when he calls out for her. It’s peculiar, but she might be out, too, it’s not like she’s confined in the house just because she’s pregnant. Minho makes a mental note to call her to check up on her, if she doesn’t come back soon. Come to think of it, there might be a note on the fridge, he realizes. He heads for the kitchen –

– and stops dead in his tracks in the doorway.

There’s blood. There’s a lot of blood, and to his panicking mind it looks like someone bled to death in their kitchen. At the very least. He’s not sure how much blood there even is in one human being but this really looks like a lot and he needs every ounce of his self control to keep even remotely calm. No sign of Gwiboon anywhere, and a kitchen looking like a murder took place in there, what else could be possibly do but panic? Carefully he swipes a bit of the red substance from the countertop and notices it’s still fresh, so it can’t have been for that long ago.

There’s a loaf of bread on the counter too, and a bloody knife right next to it, and Minho’s mind already races to the conclusion that this must be the murder weapon, he must not touch it before he calls the police, and he has to call them now, and what on earth will he do if something’s happened to Gwiboon, and –

His thoughts are cut off when his phone goes off, the ringing echoing in the way too silent room. He fumbles to answer, and only manages his own name when he picks up. It only takes a couple of words from the other end of the line, and he cuts in with “I’ll be right over” and ends the call.

Hospital, he needs to get to the hospital.

At the hospital, Minho expects to find a barely alive Gwiboon lying pale on a hospital bed, fighting for her life. What he sees instead is Gwiboon sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs, her whole left hand and wrist wrapped in strikingly white bandages. She’s smiling sheepishly at Minho, sort of apologetic and sort of embarrassed. He cares for none of that though, as he simply rushes at her and scoops her in for a tight hug.

“What the hell happened!?” He asks in a rush as he lets go of her, frantically trying to check her for other injuries than the obvious one on her hand. “I thought you’d died.”

“I’m so sorry,” Gwiboon says, genuinely, and grabs Minho’s shirt with her healthy hand. “I had an accident and after I called a cab for myself I tried to call you, but my fingers were so slippery and the phone is somewhere under the freezer now. They didn’t let me call from here, either, they just said they’d contact you as soon as they can.”

“What the hell did you do!?” Minho reiterates the question from before, looking at her from wide eyes. “There was so much blood!”

“I didn’t find the bread knife so I figured I could as well use the carving knife to make myself a sandwich,” she admits, embarrassedly. “It sort of… slipped. It’s only a small cut! Like an inch, right here.” She points to a spot on the bandage, on the lower part of her thumb. “But it cut deep and apparently there are veins there…”

Minho stares. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. So here he thought she had died, that she had been murdered, and that was all because of a small cut on her hand? “I… I thought you died.” He’s fully aware that he’s repeating himself but he doesn’t really know what else to say, either. His mind is still sort of reeling, going in a loop around she’s alive, they’re both fine and it’s no big deal.

“I really am sorry,” Gwiboon apologizes again. She looks sort of miserable, and when she tugs on his shirt to pull him down into a one-armed hug he doesn’t resist but goes willingly.

They’re discharged only minutes later with the hospital bill, instructions to take care of the wound, and some fresh bandages and painkillers. The drive back home is silent as they’re both lost in their thoughts, Gwiboon teetering on the edge of sleep as it has been quite exhausting for her. Minho can still feel the adrenaline running through his veins, as he has yet to process properly that his wife and their unborn child are going to be okay. He doesn’t even remember when he’d been this scared, if ever.

Once in their apartment, Minho orders Gwiboon to the couch, and promises to bring her that sandwich she’d been trying to make when the accident happened. First thing he mops up the blood as well as he can, fully aware that any CSI team would be able to find traces of it even decades later. He cuts the bloodied end of the bread off and throws it in the trash, before finding the correct knife and making a whole plateful of sandwiches for the both of them.

As soon as he’s ready he re-enters the living room with the food and some tea, setting it down on the low table right in front of Gwiboon. “I think I’m going to only buy sliced bread from now on,” he huffs, but there’s finally some amusement in his voice as well. “Or slice it for you, either way.”

“Will you cut off the crust, too?” Gwiboon asks, batting her eyelashes at him exaggeratedly. Minho doesn’t even find it in himself to be annoyed by the mocking, as he’s just so relieved that everything is fine. He chomps down one sandwich in record time, before just leaning back and pulling Gwiboon closer to his side. Slowly he keeps stroking the curve of her waist, not even realizing it before Gwiboon almost purrs and curls up next to him.

When Gwiboon is done eating, Minho gently grabs her chin to make her turn her head for a proper kiss. “You are never going to touch a knife again,” he says, expression completely serious.

Gwiboon looks disbelieving. “Excuse me? How am I going to –”

“You’ve always been hazardous with sharp objects,” Minho points out, patiently, “and I don’t want to go through another heart attack when I think I’ve lost you. Both of you.”

At that, Gwiboon looks genuinely touched, the silly smile like stuck on her face. She’s not happy about causing Minho to worry, but every time he says things like that she gets this incredible feeling of warmth, being cared of, and she loves it. “How do you know it’s not all of us?” she answers instead, snickering.

For a second Minho looks almost horrified. “…if we’re getting twins I’m not sure I’ll survive. C’mon, you’ve seen Taeyeon and Jonghyun and how exhausted they were at first. And they already had experience with babies!”

She can’t help but laugh at his expression. “We’ll get what we’ll get.” She leans in, nudging Minho’s cheek with her own. “Don’t fret about it yet.”

“Alright,” Minho agrees willingly.

With a sigh, Gwiboon leans back and pats her stomach. “Now go find us some dessert. Provide for your family, man!”

Minho is laughing as he does exactly as he’s told.

EXTRAS PART 3

A special sequel by shineekitten ♥

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GUYS BEFORE YOU SAY THIS ISN’T REALISTIC: THIS IS TOTALLY FROM MY LIFE. lmao when mom was pregnant with me she did the exact same thing with the knife and my dad panicked at all the blood in the kitchen even tho she tried to mop most of it up. except that mom was much further along with the pregnancy, while here Boonie must have covered less than eight weeks. so yeah, inspired by the fact that now basically both mom and I are forbidden to use sharp knives in the house 8D

@DW.

[fic] Onew/Key – SHINee – Then, Again

rabenhorst — Fri, 14 Mar 2014 19:59:46 GMT

Title: Then, Again
Author: fonulyn
Rating: R
Pairing: Onew/Key
Other characters: --
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 3342 words
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Breaking his leg – twice – turns out to be the best thing that has ever happened to Jinki.
Comments: haha this is like a set up for bad porn, and in the end I don’t even give you actual porn. I’m sorry? (I hope you like it anyway!)

When Jinki wakes up he doesn’t know where he is. He feels sore all over, in a way that is definitely nothing even remotely pleasant, and so he tries to hold as still as he can. Too bad even blinking makes his eyes hurt, as well as increases the pounding in the back of his skull. He really doesn’t appreciate the bright lights shining down on him. Shouldn’t it be basic human decency to switch off the lights when someone sleeps?

Finally he manages to blink his eyes open enough to focus on his surroundings. White. More white. And in the midst of it all, someone is suddenly looking down on him worriedly. The slanted eyes are clear and attentive, and Jinki really really wants to reach out and touch those lips. Maybe with his own. Moving still doesn’t sound tempting at all though, so he doesn’t shift, only opens his mouth to speak.

“Hey.” The croak that is his voice surprises him as it definitely doesn’t sound like he usually does. Or healthy at all, come to think of it. Yet he presses on, after swallowing hard to remedy what he can. This beautiful creature is still looking down at him, obviously focused, and Jinki wants to grab the opportunity while he can.

“Are you an angel?”

Jinki is sort of proud of himself for managing a coherent sentence. Although it’s somewhat dimmed by the way the angel’s face morphs into a pinched expression, quite like he’s not sure whether to be annoyed or amused. Jinki would apologize, he really would, but his fuzzy mind won’t co-operate enough to let him get words out any more.

“What kind of a stupid question is that?” So. Not an angel, then. Jinki squints up at him, trying to figure out if the light he sees is an actual halo. It might be the angel is just lying to him, right? Maybe they don’t want to be discovered. Or maybe they don’t know they’re angels? Makes perfect sense.

“Okay,” Jinki says, nevertheless, figuring that it’s easiest to agree. He wouldn’t want to deal with an angry angel, now would he. He sinks a little deeper into the covers, his eyes slipping shut as he snuffles contently. “I am going to sleep now.”

Jinki doesn’t see the angel’s expression anymore, but he can imagine it pretty well judging by the snort his announcement gains as an answer.

He hears nothing more before he drifts back into sleep.

The next time Jinki is awake he is at least slightly more lucid. He’s also a little bit embarrassed by the way he’d been acting the previous time, but he tries not to dwell on it. It’s enough that the nurse he mistook for an angel isn’t mentioning it, pretending like it never happened. Jinki can roll with that, he really can.

The man shuffles closer to the bed and fluffs Jinki’s pillow a little, before helping him to a more seated position. “Food is on its way,” comes the explanation. That’s as much of happy chitchat as he gets.

Carefully, Jinki looks at the shiny nametag pinned on the white scrubs right atop the man’s heart. It reads Kim Kibum. There must be thousands of Kim Kibums in this city alone, he thinks, but doesn’t comment on it, wary of the off chance that the man actually is an angel. Even if it seems to be less and less likely the more his dosage of painkillers is lowered.

“Kibum?” Jinki tries as the nurse is shifting the table closer. He’s not sure if addressing him with such familiarity is a bad thing but his excuse is that he’s on heavy medication and everything seems like a good idea right now. Especially getting to know the attractive person fussing over him. “Why am I here?”

Kibum huffs, obviously not minding the familiarity in the slightest. He almost rolls his eyes at Jinki, it seems, and only manages to keep professional in the nick of time. Jinki thinks it’s utterly charming. “You broke your leg in two places and hit your head so hard it’s surprising you only have a concussion,” Kibum explains, short and to the point. “You should consider yourself lucky.”

“I guess it’s a good thing my skull is so thick.” Jinki flashes his most winning goofy grin. If he’s not mistaken there’s a slight smile tugging on Kibum’s lips as well. Jinki definitely counts it as a win. Especially when Kibum pats his leg sort of fondly.

“If there’s an emergency, just press the call button,” he instructs. “But I am not helping you eat.”

“Not even if I ask nicely?” Jinki tries.

“No,” Kibum answers, “never in a million years.”

Later, Jinki presses the call button anyway. Kibum still refuses to feed him. But he stays, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to Jinki’s bed, and keeps him company until he has to get up to collect the empty plates from all of the rooms.

Jinki thinks it could have gone a lot worse.

It takes three days of eating that horrid mess they call food before Jinki has had enough. He forces down a few spoonfuls of the porridge-like breakfast he’s served, trying to drown the taste in lots and lots of juice. It doesn’t really work, though, since as much as he’s not usually fussy about food he can’t get over the slimy texture.

He complains about it to Kibum, who tells him to get over it and act like a man. Which is decidedly not the outcome Jinki had in mind when he gave his elaborate representation on the merits of actual edible food versus the goo they offer at the hospital.

Jinki is sort of disappointed. Even though he tries not to show it. Yet he definitely spends the day moping in his room, picking on every meal of the day just enough that he’s able to fool himself he’s eaten. He’s still hungry, though, his stomach grumbling and protesting every chance it gets.

Defeated, Jinki burrows himself into his blankets and hopes that the old quote about sleep substituting food is actually true. It’s not like he can sleep, not with how hungry he is, and the more he thinks of it and focuses on it the worse it gets.

He’s so screwed.

Surprisingly though his wallowing in self-pity is cut short when the door opens and none other than Kibum waltzes in. There’s a plastic bag in his hand, and he sets it down on the edge of Jinki’s bed more gently than expected. Jinki sits up then, careful to keep the blanket still around himself. “What’s that?” he asks, curious.

Kibum rolls his eyes. Is it possible for eyerolls to be fond? Jinki decides it is.

“Food, you big whiny crybaby.”

“Oh.” Jinki beams. He feels like a kid on Christmas morning as he rummages through the bag of various snacks and fruit. He figures it’s too much to ask of Kibum to stay, but he doesn’t even need to. Before long they’re sharing the contents of the bag, the TV on in the background for them to comment on whatever mundane show is on at any given time.

It’s actually really nice. Even if the way Kibum spends ages eating the bananas is sort of very distracting.

It sort of becomes a habit. Jinki gives himself a mental pat on the back. He is awesome.

Turns out that the painkillers don’t only make Jinki’s mind a little fuzzy and his impulse control worse. They also make him horny. Every time he closes his eyes his mind drifts to the slight upturn of Kibum’s lips when he’s amused and trying to hide it, or the way he always has a little swing to his hips when he walks, or the way he seems to linger in Jinki’s room to exchange a few words with him even when he really should be already going.

It’s sort of sad, how fast Jinki has fallen, and how easily. Yet he’s enjoying their awkward flirting much more than he can even express. It’d make anyone cringe with how awful it is, truthfully, but it works for them.

Nevertheless Jinki is surprised when he opens his eyes to find Kibum kneeling on the hospital bed at his feet, grinning up at him. He’s wearing the same white nurse’s outfit he usually has, except it seems to be three sizes too small judging by the way it’s clinging on Kibum’s body like a second skin. Come to think of it, the regular outfit doesn’t include a short skirt, either, one that exposes more of Kibum’s hypnotizing thighs than it covers.

Maybe that is when Jinki realizes, on some level, that he is dreaming. He still clings on to the faint hope that this is actually happening, but when he realizes his clothes have magically disappeared, along with the covers he’d been lying under, there’s really no hope for that anymore.

Even in a dream, Kibum is amazing. Every single movement of his is full of seduction, and Jinki is completely and utterly helpless. He tries not to moan when Kibum runs his pale lips over the hard shaft of his erection, mouths at the sensitive head, and proceeds to do miracles with his tongue. There’s no way to hold back at that point, not for Jinki at least, and he thrusts up shallowly to gain even more of the sweet friction.

When Kibum deepthroats him, the dream ends.

Jinki wakes up with the worst case of morning wood ever. It’s still dark, the lights even outside the rooms dimmed, and no one seems to be moving in the corridor that is bustling with life during daytime. Somehow that makes Jinki even more hyperaware of his body, of the way even the covers create too much pressure on his dick, and how his breathing is way too loud for the small room.

He tries to will it away. He takes deep, calming breaths, and tries to think of anything and everything that could possibly be a turn-off enough to make him forget all about that dream. He’s not allowed to get out of bed so sneaking into the bathroom is out of the question, and that makes him curse his bad luck more than anything up until now.

It’s no use. Nothing works.

Eventually Jinki can’t control himself anymore, and pushes his hand down his pants. The elastic of the waistband gives way easily and for once he’s grateful for the hospital clothes and their easy access. He wriggles until he can push the pants down to mid-thigh, enough that they’re out of the way.

His movements are unfocused at first, but before long he lets his mind take him back to the dream he had. He brushes the pad of his thumb up the underside of his cock, following the trail that Kibum had created with his tongue. Slowly, he teases himself, mirroring everything he can remember happened.

When he finally curls his fingers around his dick and gives in to the short, almost rough pace, it’s like something clicks in place in his mind. He jerks off quickly, unfocusedly, and when he comes he bites back the telltale moan of Kibum’s name.

Even after that, Jinki sleeps restlessly, fitfully. On the plus side, at least he manages to gain some rest, he tells himself. It’s better than nothing.

The nurse who changes the sheets in the morning doesn’t say anything. Nevertheless, Jinki can’t help but feel vaguely embarrassed.

After that whole ordeal, Jinki assumes he’d be too embarrassed to even look Kibum in the eye. Yet, surprisingly, nothing like that happens. There’s no awkwardness, no nothing, as the second Kibum walks into the room everything seems to slot back into its regular place. It’s a huge relief, and definitely more than Jinki had even dared to hope for. The familiar way they address each other has stuck straight from the beginning, and it almost feels like spending time with a friend instead of a casual acquaintance.

The downside is that Kibum can only stay for a moment at a time. And whenever he’s gone, Jinki is bored out of his mind. He complains about it to Kibum every chance he gets, but the only reaction it gains him is an amused snort and a short headshake. “I work here. They don’t pay me to just sit by your bedside and listen to your nonsense.” Kibum reaches out and flicks Jinki’s forehead, before carefully setting the tray of food on the small table.

Jinki grins, happily. “I can always press the call button every two seconds.”

“If you do,” Kibum answers levelly. “I will sabotage the button. Then what’ll you do.”

“I’d think of a way. I swear I would.” Jinki is convinced of his own words, he knows he’s stubborn and that he can figure out how to proceed even when the most obvious route has been blocked. He pretends to focus on his food, although he’s definitely keeping an eye on Kibum’s reaction.

For a long moment, Kibum eyes him, considering. Finally he laughs. “You would, wouldn’t you.”

It’s not a question, so Jinki doesn’t answer. He has a distinct feeling he’s won something important.

The next day, Kibum walks into Jinki’s room and all but slams a bag full of books on his bedside. “Read,” is the only thing he says, before he’s already gone again.

Jinki does.

After the exchange Kibum does spend more time in Jinki’s room, and Jinki definitely counts it a success. It’s not much, but it’s obvious effort and it makes Jinki’s heart turn into a very embarrassing puddle of feelings. It’s also not very good for his self control. He hasn’t jerked off this much ever since he was a desperate teenager.

He still blames the painkillers. Even though he has a sneaking suspicion that it’s not how they really work.

Whatever it is, Jinki is man enough to admit that he is completely and utterly whipped. It’s not only the fact that Kibum is incredibly pretty and has the most inviting lips Jinki remembers seeing. It’s also the way he laughs, the way he mocks Jinki ruthlessly like they’ve known each other forever, it’s the way he moves, the way he spends that extra fifteen minutes in Jinki’s room when his shift is already technically over.

He doesn’t say anything, though. Not to Kibum, not to anyone that calls him at the hospital, worried. All of his family and friends live on almost the opposite end of the country, and none of them bothered to visit him once he said he’s fine, settling for the occasional text message or a phone call.

Jinki doesn’t mind. It feels that this is a special world for him and Kibum, anyway. He sort of wants to keep it that way.

Eventually, like things usually do, this also has to come to an end. Jinki is told that his leg is good enough for him to go on recovering at home, and that there’s no need for him to stay here any longer. Kibum is the one who brings him the discharge papers, after a tall doctor has signed them for him and explained Jinki how to take care of his healing limb.

“I swear to you,” Kibum huffs as he pushes the papers at Jinki’s chest. “If you neglect the instructions and screw up your leg for good I will personally make sure you’ll regret it for the rest of your miserable life.”

There’s a grin dancing on his lips as he says it, though. And maybe it’s partly Jinki’s wishful thinking, but there’s also a hint of melancholy in his eyes, as if he’s not ready to let go of this either. Jinki knows he surely isn’t. He’d rather stay here for a couple of months, please, hospital bill be damned.

“Is that a promise?” he asks, instead of anything better, and tries to smile winningly.

Kibum laughs. “I thought you knew the distinct difference between a promise and a threat by now.” He turns more serious, then, his smile soft as he looks straight into Jinki’s eyes. “I guess this is it, then. Take care of yourself, okay.”

It’s the golden opportunity. Jinki tries to will himself to say any of the possible lines he figured out while he spent a sleepless night in his bed.

Would you go out to dinner with me? Soon?

Hey, Kibum, I’d really want to see you again, this time outside the hospital.

Date me, please? I promise not to break any more bones.

None of it comes out, though. Instead Jinki grins, even if it lacks the usual enthusiasm, and waves aside. “Okay. I will.” It’s the lamest of all lame replies he could’ve ever chosen and inwardly he groans at himself and his incompetency. Briefly he wonders if he still has a chance to remedy the situation, but Kibum pats his shoulder, his lips doing an odd little twitch.

“I’ll go get your clothes.”

It’s less than a month later when Jinki falls down the exact same set of stairs he did the first time. It’s quite impressive. Thankfully he doesn’t manage to hit his head quite as badly now, so he’s still conscious when he’s wheeled into the hospital. Nevertheless it feels sort of like a déjà vu, with the way his leg is hurting and the painkillers make everything dull around the edges.

He’s still a little disoriented when the door to his room bangs open and a furious Kibum storms in. Jinki can’t even get in a greeting before Kibum leans close over him, flexing his fingers as if he’s holding back the urge to either shake Jinki or to strangle him. Or possibly both. “Are you doing this on purpose!?” Kibum hisses out.

It’s probably supposed to be intimidating. It’s not. It’s laced so full of worry that it makes Jinki grin even before his brain properly catches up. “No,” he says, slowly. “But I did want to see you again.”

Maybe it’s the painkillers, or maybe it’s the way he hit his head again. Maybe it’s a sudden burst of random courage, Jinki doesn’t know. What he does know is that he goes on, uninterrupted and with deliberate, measured words. “Would you go out with me?” He looks up at Kibum, at the conflicting emotions that flicker across his expression for the briefest of moments.

Finally, Kibum snorts. “No.”

No? Despite his best efforts, Jinki’s heart sinks. He’s not stupid, he had known all along that rejection was a possibility, a very real one. Maybe he’s not Kibum’s type at all, maybe that tall doctor is, or the pretty girl stationed at the reception most days. Jinki clears his throat, but that’s as far as he gets before Kibum cuts him short.

“You’re not allowed out yet, stupid.” Kibum looks at Jinki, and the smile that spreads on his lips is unhurried, barely there, and yet unmistakeably genuine. “I could wheel you into the cafeteria downstairs though. I have a break in half an hour.”

Jinki beams. “Deal.”

True to his words, Kibum arrives back half an hour later with a wheelchair. He helps Jinki out of bed and into the chair, careful and practiced, and pushes him into the elevator that takes them to the first floor. People don’t even look at them twice when they pass them, too used to the nurses always wheeling people around wherever they need to be.

They’re not alone in the elevator so not a word is said, but as soon as the doors open Kibum leans down until his lips are nearly touching Jinki’s ear. “Take my advice,” he whispers when they go through the doors. His breath is warm against Jinki’s skin and Jinki shivers involuntarily. “The coffee here is horrible. Anything else is okay.”

Maybe it’s not quite like first dates usually go, but Jinki thinks it’s pretty good regardless.

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this is actually basically a dream I had, haha, only slightly modified. I hope you enjoyed :3

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[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee –High Maintenance Extras 1/?

rabenhorst — Sat, 22 Feb 2014 09:14:39 GMT

Title: High Maintenance Extras 1/?
Author: fonulyn
Rating: PG
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: some brief mentions
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 1104
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Pre-wedding stress seems to be getting to Gwiboon worse than expected.
Comments: A ficlet set in the universe of High Maintenance! I promised there’d be some sneak peeks into their future, how things worked out after the main story, and here’s the first one :)

“I can’t believe this, what is wrong with you!? You were supposed to be a highly recommended place, and you cannot get a simple request right!?” Gwiboon practically shrieks on the phone. At the other side of the room, Minho resists the urge to cover his ears, even if he’s had more than enough of this very onesided and enraged phonecall. And he’s not even a part of it, he’s just listening on the sidelines.

Gwiboon launches yet another litany of accusations, calling the caterer every synonym of incompetent she can come up with, before hanging up on them mid-sentence. She’s so angry she’s practically shaking, and doesn’t even seem to realize Minho’s presence as she throws her expensive phone blindly towards the couch, not caring if it hits or misses, and then storms into the bedroom.

Minho waits only long enough to give Gwiboon a second to breathe, before following her. She’s still radiating angriness, throwing the comforters off the bed to strip it of sheets. A simple household task like that has never looked so aggressive. Minho leans his shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. “What’s wrong, Gwiboon?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Gwiboon grits out from between clenched teeth. “Everything’s just peachy.” She underlines the last word by throwing a pillow across the room, as she doesn’t manage to get the pillowcase off with the first try. It almost hits the bedside lamp on its way, but thankfully misses by a couple of inches.

“C’mon, you just yelled at the caterer because the frosting of the cupcakes wasn’t the exact shade of pink you wanted. Are you telling me that’s not a slight exaggeration?” He knows that it’s not about the goddamn cupcakes, not really, but he wants Gwiboon to say it, to speak to him. She’s usually the one who insists they talk everything through, yet clams up completely when something is eating her up inside.

“That frosting was horrid,” Gwiboon mutters. This time it’s a lot less angry and more petulant, and she slows down considerably with the next pillow. She’s still staring at her hands, though, not even glancing up at Minho.

With a sigh, Minho crosses the room and grabs the abused pillow, slips it out of the pillowcase and sets it down on the bed. “Talk to me.” He stares her down, until she finally caves and looks up. Minho is a bit taken aback by the tears that she’s stubbornly trying to hold back, but he just smiles at her, as calmly as he can. “C’mon, sit down.”

Gwiboon huffs but drops to sit down on the edge of the bed, her hands in her lap. Carefully Minho goes around the bed and takes a seat right next to her, reaching out to rub her lower back gently. “Now what is it that really got you so worked up?”

“I’ve…” Gwiboon begins, but then sighs and leans against him. She’s still tense, but at least she’s not rejecting closeness, and Minho has grown to take that as a good sign. “Everything has been so hectic. The wedding is in a week and everything is still such a mess! You don’t have your tux yet, and I haven’t even done one fitting for my dress. The cupcakes suck, the bakery told us they can’t meet the deadline so we need to look at other options. I’m tired.”

“I’m sure that things’ll work out in time. As long as you’re there, with me, everything else is optional,” Minho says, honestly.

The words make Gwiboon roll her eyes, but there’s a slight smile dancing on her lips anyway. “You’re so goddamn cheesy. Why do I put up with you?” She doesn’t expect an answer, but goes on willingly. “I know. And Zhou Mi sent me some sketches of the dress, it’s going to look stunning. Taeyeon has been an absolute doll, even though her fashion sense is so underdeveloped I don’t know how she survives. I’m just… stressed.”

She sighs, burrowing closer to his side, so he wraps an arm around her. “And?” He doesn’t have an explanation on why, but he has a hunch that there’s more to it than just mere wedding induced stress. It’s a busy time, for him too, but he thinks it’s the happy sort of busy most of the time.

Gwiboon is silent for a good while, but then finally speaks up in an almost whisper. “It sucks that my parents won’t be there.” It’s the first time she’s spoken about her parents at all after she told them she’s getting married and they made it very clear they don’t want anything to do with her new family. “I know they’re douches,” she says, a bit more firmly, “and that they’ve treated you like crap, and I don’t want them there to ruin it all. But they’re my parents.”

This is something Minho can’t even pretend to understand. His own parents have never been anything but supportive of him and his choices. With her, it’s completely different, and she’s pretty much had to cut all contact with her parents. She doesn’t even get invited to their birthday parties anymore. So Minho just pulls her even closer, until she’s straddling his lap, and gives her the warmest, longest hug he can. “I’m so sorry.”

She exhales slowly as she relaxes against him, and finally brings her arms around him as well to return the embrace. She can feel how the tense knots slowly ease away, allowing the tiredness to kick in. “It’s not your fault,” she mumbles, “I just wish my parents were as nice as yours. Or, nice at all, that would be a start.”

“Maybe they’ll come around, eventually,” Minho tries, as encouragingly as possible. She pulls back, gives him an odd look and grabs his hair to pull him in for a quick kiss. When it breaks she’s finally smiling again, even if she’s shaking her head in disbelief anyway.

“I can’t believe how optimistic you are,” she chuckles, “but let’s face it. That’s one of the reasons I’m marrying you.” She places her palm on his cheek, stroking the soft skin with her thumb, and goes in for seconds. This time the kiss is a bit longer, a bit deeper, and leaves her slightly out of breath.

If this is the way to calm Gwiboon down, Minho isn’t going to complain. Just as she rolls them over on the bare bed, pinning her down against the mattress, she grins up at him. “I promise I’ll call the caterer later and apologize.”

She is rewarded with yet another kiss.

EXTRAS 2

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this verse will be the end of meeeeee~

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[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – High Maintenance - Chapter 10/10

rabenhorst — Wed, 29 Jan 2014 20:31:37 GMT

Title: High Maintenance; Chapter 10/10
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: Jonghyun, Onew, Zhou Mi, Boa, girl!Taemin (some are around more than others)
Warnings: --
Wordcount: ~47k (overall); 5604 for this part
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: When Gwiboon's car breaks down she expects the repairs to be an annoying hassle. Not in her wildest dreams had she hoped for an illegally hot mechanic to be there to ease her hardships.
Comments: THIS IS IT GUYS. This is the eeeeeend.
Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

It’s a miracle Gwiboon manages to get all the way home without causing an accident. Maybe it’s partly thanks to the way anger is finally seeping off her, leaving her deflated and sort of empty, as she has no idea what she’s supposed to do now. She still feels the immense urge to run away, to go somewhere, anywhere, as long as it’s far away from her parents. She simply doesn’t know how, doesn’t know where to start, and doesn’t know if she can do it by herself.

A large part of her feels like she just needs a good cry.

That’s exactly what she does, as soon as the door slams shut behind her. There’s no way she can hold back the big tears that roll down her cheeks, even though she tries to swallow them down and furiously wipe them away. Finally she gives in, falls onto the plush living room couch and lets the sobs subside on their own.

After she’s calmed down enough she dials Jinki’s number, but it goes straight to his voicemail. With a huff, she punches the next possible number, and is greeted by a sleepy mumble. “Gwiboon?” It’s enough to make her smile, at least, as she’s known her friend long enough to be able to imagine the adorably, and amusingly, sleepy features that accompany that particular tone.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” she begins, and just like that the tears are back again. She blinks to get rid of them, but her success is limited and she knows it’s audible in her voice as well. “I just really needed to talk to someone and Jinki isn’t answering, so.”

“I just took a nap. I’m glad to be your backup plan,” Zhou Mi laughs, and doesn’t sound the least bit offended by it. The merry laughter quickly turns to an honestly concerned tone, though. “What’s wrong?”

Gwiboon doesn’t need to be asked twice, and she spills the whole story, from the beginning to the end. It feels like she’s not even breathing in between, but at the same time an enormous weight is lifted off her shoulders as soon as she’s managed to explain everything. Zhou Mi doesn’t interrupt her, not even once, before she’s obviously done and they fall into a short silence.

“You know that I’d love to have you here, right?” Zhou Mi begins carefully. When he gets an agreeing sound as an answer, he goes on. “So I’m not saying this to keep you from coming here, you’re always welcome.” He pauses, as if he’s searching for words, but then just blurts it all out. “You shouldn’t come here on an impulse. It’s a big decision. And an even bigger change in your life. You should really think about it and not do it just because you’re angry.”

“I have thought about it,” Gwiboon tries, but it sounds meek even to her own ears.

Zhou Mi laughs. “Yeah I’m sure. Think of it more, though. Make sure it’s what you want. Moving here was tough on me, too, and I was returning home. It’s going to be a lot harder for you, so you need to be certain.”

“I thought I was,” she sighs. “I was ready to pack my bags and take the next flight out.”

“Give it a bit of time,” he says, gently. It’s not an order, and doesn’t send her on the defensive, not even when he goes on. “Sleep on it, or make a list of pros and cons, or just think about it more. After that, if you still want to come here, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

It does make a lot of sense, Gwiboon has to admit, and maybe she has been acting harshly. Maybe she shouldn’t have dropped the bomb on Minho like she did, and then explode again when he refused to agree. In a way, she’s known it all along, she just needed someone to make her see it. “Hey? Thank you,” she says, and means it wholly. “I might not be moving there quite yet.”

They chat for a moment longer, slowly drifting from the initial topic to everything and nothing. When the call finally ends Gwiboon stays right there on the couch, eyes closed, lost in her thoughts. At least she’s not angry anymore. She just feels this strange emptiness, like air has stilled around her. Like the calm before the storm. She’s not sure what to make of it.

Several hours later, Jinki finally calls back and Gwiboon doesn’t even need to ask before he announces he’s coming over. He brings snacks and three bottles of wine, and Gwiboon sort of wishes she really could marry Jinki since he is all kinds of perfect. Especially when he allows her to lean against him and snuggle close, as they’re sipping on their first glasses of wine.

The companionable silence does the trick and calms Gwiboon down until she’s feeling mostly like her normal self. She can’t get rid of the hollow ache in her chest, but then again, she supposes that’d be too much to ask for, especially so soon. A part of her wants to call Minho, or go to him, and talk things through until they’d be back where they were before this mess. Yet another part, the stubborn part, feels that she was wronged and doesn’t want to give in.

She sighs, and apparently that works as a cue for Jinki to squeeze her shoulder and reach for the bottle to fill their glasses again. “So, want to explain what happened?”

Gwiboon knows that she could say no and he wouldn’t press it, but she needs him to know. She explains how her parents behaved, how her mother called her, and how she stormed off to Minho’s place only to end up fighting with him as well. She’s glad she has the glass in her hand since she can take a sip to calm her nerves every now and then.

Talking about it should’ve calmed her down and sorted out her thoughts, she thinks, but it’s pretty much the opposite of what happens. The myriad of emotions is back again, and when she talks about the argument she almost feels like the lump in her throat might end up choking her. She tries to cover it up the best she can, even though she knows Jinki will see through it anyway. “Don’t worry,” she finishes, with a weak chuckle. “I’m not moving to China. At least not yet. It was a stupid thought, anyway.” She downs the rest of the wine in her glass in one go, reaching for the bottle. This time she foregoes the glass completely and sips right from it.

“Well.” Jinki smiles, softly. “It wouldn’t be stupid if you really wanted it. But do you?”

“No.” She doesn’t even need to think about it. The answer is obvious. “I just feel… I’m really angry at my parents. I don’t want to see them even on accident, and I know I need to work out how to get rid of this apartment and how to make sure I’m not financially dependant on them anymore. I just haven’t had the time to think about it, at all. I’ve been too busy thinking of ways to run away as far as I can.” By the end of it she’s speaking so fast she’s surprised she isn’t tripping over her words.

Jinki notices how she’s trying to work herself into near hysterics again, and pats her knee. “We’ll sort it out. It’s not going to be hard, you don’t pay them rent so you can basically just move out. The rest we can plan later.” He knows, from experience, that he just needs to be patient.

For a moment Gwiboon is silent, allowing her thoughts to run free. She has the bag of peanuts on her lap, eating them in between the pretty generous sips of wine, and as soon as she’s emptied the bottle she sets it down on the floor, gesturing for the next one. With a sigh, Jinki opens it, but only gives her half a glass. “Have you called Minho?” he asks to break the silence.

Gwiboon sighs, shaking her head. “No.” She doesn’t know if her call would be even welcomed now, after she made such a spectacle and then ran away right after without even giving Minho the chance to say anything. It’s not something she wants to discuss over the phone, honestly.

Jinki hums, thoughtfully. “Did you two break up?”

The question alone makes Gwiboon’s head ache. Maybe she overdid it with the wine. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she gives another slow headshake. “I… don’t know. I really don’t know.” Admitting it out loud sucks even more than realizing that she really has no idea what the argument led to, where it left them.

Jinki’s answer is a nod. Then, he asks the question that holds the most importance. “Do you want to break up with him?”

This time, she needs no time to think. “No.”

The reply seems to satisfy Jinki as he finally attends his own glass of wine, takes a small sip and then grins brightly at Gwiboon. “Then you’ll just go there tomorrow. Apologize,” he says, giving a happy little shrug, “get your man back.”

She laughs. “You make it sound so easy!”

“It is,” he nods, “it is.”

For the second time within a week Minho wakes up feeling like crap. This time, there’s no hangover to explain that away, but he simply couldn’t sleep at all because of the thoughts that kept running to and fro in his mind. He keeps replaying the argument, every word that was said, and by the end of it he doesn’t even know how much of it is how things really went down and how much his tired mind managed to muddle things up.

In the morning he drags himself out of bed and into the shower. He gets dressed, nibbles on his breakfast and drinks four cups of coffee. Despite all that, he can’t bring himself to go to work so he calls Jonghyun and asks him to just lock up and go home too. One missed day of business isn’t going to kill them. Jonghyun notices immediately that something is up and asks if he should come over but Minho tells him he’s fine. He knows that Jonghyun doesn’t believe him, but thankfully he doesn’t pry and lets it be.

Eventually Minho ends up sitting on the couch, thumbing his phone as he tries to decide whether he should call Gwiboon or not. He’s not sure how the proper etiquette goes with these things. Is he supposed to give her space and wait until she calls him, if ever? Or is he supposed to call her as soon as possible, to show that he’s not ready to let things just fall apart like this? It’s not like he particularly wants to make the call since talking about something like this over the phone feels somehow wrong, but he doesn’t even want to imagine all the ways it could become a disaster if he suddenly appeared on her doorstep.

He never really got the chance to get angry, since the whole argument happened so fast it ended up being pretty onesided. He barely had time to understand what was going on, and only later, when Gwiboon was long gone, his temper flared and he decided he wouldn’t be the first one to make a move to reconcile. A decision he managed to give up less than an hour after he made it. He knows they both said things they shouldn’t have, spoke without thinking, and he doesn’t care who’s the one who ends it and starts fixing things. As long as it happens.

With a frustrated, deep sigh Minho throws himself back on the couch, with his long legs dangling over the armrest. How do people even deal with situations like these? It’s not like this is the first time he’s argued with someone, or with Gwiboon. Yet it’s the first time an argument leaves him feeling this uneasy, like it might actually ruin something he’s not ready to let go.

He feels sick to his stomach at the mere thought of losing Gwiboon. Maybe that’s what makes him finally get over the hesitation and press the ‘call’ button. He chews on his lower lip, probably hard enough to leave it swollen, as he waits for Gwiboon to pick up the phone. He counts each beep, until it becomes apparent that she’s not going to answer, and in a fit of frustration Minho lets his phone drop to the floor. It makes a slight cracking sound, but he doesn’t bother to check if it’s still in one piece.

Fine. If she doesn’t want to hear him out, he’s …

The ringing of the doorbell effectively cuts his thoughts. For a second Minho considers the merits of just ignoring it, as it’s probably either Jonghyun or someone trying to sell things he’s not even remotely interested in. After it sounds one more time, though, he heaves himself up from the couch and starts towards the door. He rakes his fingers through his hair, hoping to tame the mop to a slightly more presentable hairdo, since he’s fairly sure he looks like a walking zombie right now.

He doesn’t expect to see Gwiboon standing at his door as soon as he swings it open. He definitely doesn’t expect to see Gwiboon with a whole bunch of suitcases and bags piled at her feet. And he knows he’s gaping at the sight, stunned into silence, since after a moment Gwiboon reaches out to gently tap his chin. “Close your mouth, Minho. That’s really not attractive.”

With a snap, Minho does as he’s told, shaking his head a little as if it could clear his mind and make him see right, instead of this illusion that his tired brain has obviously conjured to torture him. “What… just what is going on?” he manages to ask, eventually.

Gwiboon gives a small shrug and a grin. “I’m moving in! Make room in the bathroom, I have at least one suitcase full of beauty products to fit in there, it’s not like I remain this gorgeous just because mother nature has been kind to me.” She speaks as if she’s completely sure of herself, yet there’s clear hesitance in her tone, in her posture, in the line of her shoulders.

“You’re?” Minho asks, before he realizes it’s not really a question at all. “You’re moving in? I thought you didn’t want to, at least before you’d finished your studies and –”

He doesn’t get any further before she stops him, placing a hand on his chest. “Look, Minho. I am really sorry for what I said. I shouldn’t have barged in when I was still angry, I just took it all out on you. Besides, you were right, I really don’t want to move away and leave my life here behind. Not if you’re not coming with me. And since you asked me, repeatedly, if I’d want to live together, I figured… well, here I am.” She pauses, smiles softly up at him. “I’m here to stay. That is, if you’ll still have me.”

It takes Minho a moment to process all the information in his mind. It takes long enough for Gwiboon to interpret his silence wrong and begin to retreat, but that’s when he finally jumps into action and gently grabs her wrist to hold her hand in place. “If I’ll still have you? …for God’s sake I want to marry you!” he bursts out, and that cues another stunned silence. He doesn’t let it go on for long this time, though, but instead allows a bright smile to break free. “Gwiboon. Will you marry me?”

She can’t stop smiling, either, her cheeks hurting from the way she’s grinning so wide and she jumps him, throwing her arms and legs around him. “Hell fucking yes I will!” she announces, so loud that probably the whole building hears her. But it doesn’t matter, nothing else matters but the way she’s clinging on to him, the way he is hugging her back almost too tightly, and the way their laughter echoes off the walls of the corridor.

Eventually Gwiboon pulls back enough to crush their mouths together in a kiss that holds a slight hint of desperation, and a whole lot of relief now that they know that things will work out between them. It’s like straight from one of those romantic comedies they kept laughing at and comparing themselves to, and they wouldn’t even want it any other way right now. There’s going to be some serious talking in the immediate future, but in silent agreement they decide that now is not the time for it.

They keep kissing until Minho’s arms are aching from holding Gwiboon up, until they’re both slightly out of breath from it. She wriggles a little, then, and he lets her down on the ground to stand on her own two feet. “Now,” she says, inhaling sharply as her voice almost breaks already at that single word, “let’s drag all of this inside before someone steals my stuff, okay?”

He laughs, and obligingly grabs two large suitcases to haul them into the living room.

Later, much later, they’re tangled as much in the sheets as they are in each other, and neither of them wants to get up anytime soon. They spent the majority of the evening unpacking the essentials, and trying to figure out a place for the rest of the bags and suitcases for the time being. Not much was spoken, but they kept migrating towards each other as if they couldn’t go too far for the fear of hurting the careful balance.

It’s only now, when they’re lying in bed in almost complete darkness, silent save for the soft breaths and the frantic heartbeats, that they finally talk about something other than ‘where do you want to put the makeup’ or ‘should we buy a new closet’. Minho is slowly stroking spirals into Gwiboon’s back as he speaks, voice low and rough from the lack of use. “What about your parents?”

“What about them?” Gwiboon asks. She instinctively tenses at the mere mention of them, but Minho doesn’t stop the soothing touches and it makes her gradually relax back against him, seeking the shared warmth. “Well, they’ll either disown me and have nothing to do with me, or they’ll make a huge scene and try to threaten you out of my life.” She tilts her head, presses a small kiss in the hollow of his collarbone. “But fuck if I care. They can shove their money right up their asses.”

That makes Minho laugh, although he knows it’s sort of inappropriate. It’s not really funny, if one thinks of it, but it’s not like he can burst into tears either. Now that they’re on the topic of wealth, he figures he can as well address the other thing that’s pressing on his mind. “You do realize that I’m not rich?” He winces slightly even as he says it, because it comes out more condescending than he wanted it to.

Gwiboon doesn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, she scoffs at him and reaches up to cuff his head. “Don’t you think we’ve come a bit far for you to have that crisis now?” she says, glaring at him the best she can. It’s not very effective considering that it’s so dark he only sees her features vaguely, and that her hair is sticking in every direction making her look more adorable than threatening. She’s immediately rewarded with a soft kiss, one that makes her sigh happily and strain upwards until she can deepen it slightly.

After, she happily collapses back on him, not caring in the slightest that it knocks the air out of him. Not that he cares, either, he just huffs out a laugh and twines his arms around her waist again. “Don’t even dare to go there,” Gwiboon mumbles, “I’m not marrying you for your money. Besides, we’ll make it work. We’ll make your garage the biggest fucking garage in the city!”

“Our garage,” he cuts in, grinning. It makes him stupidly giddy to say that. It makes him stupidly giddy to even think that they’re engaged, even if they’re still lacking the rings. And whatever is his is now definitely hers too, as cliché as it makes him.

Gwiboon pulls back far enough to grin at him. “Now why did that sound so romantic?” she asks, laughing. “It definitely should not be romantic! I bet no other man has yet wooed a woman by promises of co-owning a garage.” Yet she can’t deny, either, that having a concrete promise of a life built together is a better mood-lifter than pretty much anything else she could think of.

“You’re just so far gone,” Minho points out, the grin turning sort of smug. “Admit it, you’ve fallen head over heels for me, there’s no turning back. You may as well accept your fate.”

He means it as a joke, but he receives a completely serious reply. “Yes, I have.” She looks at him straight, and only when he doesn’t react immediately to the words she rolls her eyes. “Did you maybe miss it when I told you I love you? Or do you have ears only as decoration?”

“No, no I didn’t miss it,” he says, underlining the words with a quick headshake. He smiles goofily, unable to hold it back as damn, he remembers that moment and thinking of it makes him as happy as living it in the first place did. He slides his hands lower, over the curve of her butt, and grabs the backs of her thighs to hike her even closer. She nods forward until their foreheads are pressed together, and they’re just grinning stupidly at one another.

“You ass,” Gwiboon chuckles. “The least you could do is say it back. Or sing that serenade now that you’re sober.”

“I just can’t believe all this,” Minho admits. “When I woke up I wasn’t sure if you’d ever wanna see me again and now we’re facing the life sentence together. Like, a house, picket fence, kids running around with pets…” He trails off, overwhelmed by all of the thoughts and images, the hopes and dreams that run through him at once.

“Hmmmh.” She makes a happy noise and places open mouthed kisses along his ridiculously long neck. She ends the trail with a scrape of her teeth, the light bite making him arch upwards into it in surprise. “Hold your horses there, man,” she says, amused. “Remember, five year plan! No kids in the immediate future. I’m not abandoning that just because you proposed.”

“I know, I know,” he laughs, “but I did promise you the dog, didn’t I?” The words are slightly breathless, just because she’s apparently determined to render him completely incapable of speaking. She knows the exact right way to run her nails down his sides, not too hard but not too gentle, and when she slots one leg between his, she barely needs to shift forward to make him gasp.

“Yeah, you did,” she admits, obviously enjoying the power she holds over him, how she is allowed to have him like this, at her mercy. Not that she’d ever misuse that, she knows how to make it a good deal for both parties involved. She kisses him, slow and unhurried, like they have all the time in the world, and he has no choice but to succumb. Even when it breaks naturally, she keeps gently nipping at his lower lip, enjoying the fullness of it. Until she speaks up unexpectedly. “And we seriously need to buy a new bed.”

Minho blames both the kiss and the touches for not really following that train of thought. He arches both eyebrows, just staring at her for a second dumbly, before he manages a coherent question. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“It’s not big enough,” she says, as if it should be obvious and as if anyone should be able to see it. “And I want one with a proper headboard! I have ideas I want to put into action.” Minho’s sort of loves the self-satisfied, wicked smirk on Gwiboon’s face, and it makes him pretty much mirror the expression.

“Ideas?” he asks. “Should I be worried?” The only thing that worries him right now is that she’s way too controlled right now, and he vows to change that. One large palm stays in its place on the back of her thigh, but he slips the other hand between her legs to pay her back with some teasing of his own. She doesn’t object, but instead rocks her hips into the touch with a delighted little hum.

“No,” she still manages to answer, albeit breathlessly. “You should look forward to them. I promise, you’ll end up begging for more.”

Somehow, Minho doesn’t have any doubts that it’ll be exactly how things will play out. She has pretty much already managed to convince him of the necessity of a new bed, with a proper headboard, but she doesn’t need to know that just yet. Feigning innocence, he blinks up at her. “Tell me more about those plans.”

She does.

“C’mon, Minho! We were supposed to leave already an hour ago,” Gwiboon calls into the apartment, and only gets a muffled curse as a reply. She sighs, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as she shifts on her feet, impatiently waiting by the door. It’s getting too hot, as she’s already wearing a light jacket and her stylish new boots, and for some reason the temperature in their apartment is turned up abnormally high.

Maybe she’s impatient also because she knows they’re headed to a pet shelter that closes fairly early, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s incredibly annoyed by how Minho has one of those days when he takes an hour to find a matching pair of socks. Finally Minho appears from the living room, cheeks slightly flushed, and fucking finally pocketing his lost keys, Gwiboon just frowns at him. Maybe she can convey her disapproval that way.

Minho knows her too well to even bat an eye, though. He leans down and places a kiss on her lips, patting her back to make her move. “Now c’mon, you were yelling at me for the past half an hour for being so slow. Are we going or not?” He’s grinning, and a part of Gwiboon wants to smack that expression off his face. She doesn’t, though, but instead kisses it off. Same difference.

“Fine. You’ll drive. And after, we’re getting takeout,” she orders, finally marching outside.

They make it in time at the shelter, but the decision proves to be more than difficult. Minho sort of wants to take a dozen of cats and dogs home, along with a few bunnies and other soft and cuddly things. Hell, he might have a thing for cute animals, sue him. He doesn’t need to admit that soft spot to anyone.

Finally, after what feels like an endless day of heartbreak knowing they can’t bring home more than one pet, Gwiboon announces she’s made her decision. The worker that has accompanied them most of the time seems pleased by this, and before they even know it there’s a dog deposited in her arms while the worker announces he’s going to go pre-fill out the paperwork.

Minho stares at the dog for a moment, before the words burst out of him. “You can’t be serious!” He frowns, confused, tilting his head as if that could make the animal look different. “That dog looks like a rat!”

“Minho! You can’t call this little cutie pie a rat! No, we’re getting him,” she protectively cradles the little dog in her arms, and the dog seems very pleased about that. “Hello, Vuitton. You’ll be nice to your new mom, won’t you? Good boy,” she coos, and the dog seems to agree. At least judging by the way he shifts slightly in Gwiboon’s hold and reaches to lick her neck in an affectionate gesture.

“…Vuitton?” Minho asks incredulously. He’s still staring at the little rat, and can’t help but think that in his imagination getting a dog would have consisted of an animal much bigger and… furrier? He would’ve liked a nice golden retriever or so, not one of these little things he’s afraid he’s going to step on accidentally.

“Yes,” Gwiboon says with a fond smile. She’s obviously in love already. “His name. And we’re getting him.” The feeling seems to be mutual, as the dog nuzzles against Gwiboon, like he’s always belonged right there and has no intention of ever going anywhere.

Minho can’t deny, he’s still a little hesitant, but he figures he can’t judge a book by its cover. Or a dog by its… appearance, whatever. Slowly he reaches out, intending on petting the dog, to maybe get to know him. Yet he withdraws his hand in record speed when the dog has the audacity to growl at him to warn him off. “We can’t have a dog that hates my guts,” he says, with a frown.

“Of course he’s mad at you,” Gwiboon huffs. “You called him a rat! He’s going to forgive, as long as you’ll be nice to him.”

Her mind is set, so Minho figures he can’t do much else but agree. It’s going to be two against one anyway, so he might as well give in without a fight. Even though he can already imagine how the dog is going to chew on all the wires – of course only of the appliances he uses – and piss in his toolbox and scratch his car, only to list a few.

Then again, his annoyance is slightly alleviated when they go buy more supplies and Gwiboon decides to buy Vuitton a pink collar with sparkly studs. Minho swears, if dogs get appalled, they wear the exact same look that Vuitton does as he’s stuck with that piece of questionable fashion. Minho thanks his luck that he’s not going to be forced into anything that horrid.

Maybe he’ll learn to get along with the dog, eventually. Nothing stops him from trying.

As soon as they arrive home, the new addition to their little family seems to find a place for himself on the comfortable, fluffy carpet in front of the couch. He curls up happily, completely ignoring the dog basket and the food bowls, and seems to fall asleep right after a wide yawn. It sort of looks adorable, Minho has to admit. He’s already growing fond of the dog, so now he only needs to make sure it’s mutual.

This is not the time for any of that, though. Instead they break out the takeout, sitting cross-legged on the couch with the containers between them. The TV isn’t running, there’s no music or no background noise, and neither of them can be bothered to get up and change that fact.

“Next time,” Minho begins when he’s managed to already destroy pretty much half of the food. “I’ll get to pick the dog.” It’s not like it’s a big issue for him, really, but he can’t get it out of his mind how many animals they saw in need of a home, and he doesn’t think having two dogs would be much more work than one. As long as they don’t both hate him.

“Alright,” Gwiboon answers easily, with a small shrug. “Something tells me you’ll just find the biggest dog available, and pick based on that alone.” She’s grinning, as she can really imagine that happening. Somehow, it’d be pretty much perfect, too. Don’t people say that dogs are supposed to represent their owners?

Minho at least doesn’t even bother to try denying her assumptions. He only grins around a mouthful of food and nods. “Hell yes.” He has some sauce stains in the corner of his mouth, which is unusual considering how he’s usually the cleaner eater of the two, and Gwiboon just can’t resist leaning in to kiss the stain off.

In the process she manages to lose her balance and fall right over. She ends up face first into Minho’s chest, while lying on the remains of their food, and after the initial oh my god what did I just do she can’t help but burst out laughing. Helplessly she clutches at Minho’s shirt, trying to scramble upwards since the sauce is soaking through her clothes already. “Oh my god this is so gross!”

She barely manages to sit up before there’s a flurry of movement and suddenly there’s a little dog sitting on her lap, gnawing on the stained shirt as if it’s the most delicious thing in the whole wide world.

They laugh until their bellies hurt from it, until their cheeks ache from all the smiling.

When Gwiboon first walked into that garage all those months ago, she had no idea it would end up changing her life this much. She doesn’t think she even realized it when she was already well on her way to falling in love. Yet now that it’s done, now that there’s no going back, she wouldn’t change it for the world.

He’s everything she’s not. She fills in what he’s lacking. That is all they need.

That’s what makes them inseparable.

EXTRAS 1

check the masterlist for more fic! | follow me on tumblr~ | add this journal for updates

So now that it’s all over some thanks are in order.

First of all, I need to thank Nina. Without her, this fic would have never been conceived. I want to thank her for holding my hand through the whole (extremely long and difficult) labour pains as I was trying to give birth to this fic. Here it is now, Nina, our baby! You are a father now, when are you going to make an honest woman out of me and propose?

Secondly, there are two other friends I want to thank: Hannah for her incredibly valuable suggestions and help when it was direly needed, and Piu for her unfaltering support and encouragement! You both helped me a lot during this process. Do you want to be the godmothers of this child? 8)

Thirdly, I want to thank every single person who has shown interest towards this fic either by commenting, by liking and/or reblogging this on tumblr, or by otherwise letting me know this wasn’t written in vain for an empty audience. I love and cherish each and every one of you! Without you this wouldn’t have been possible!

Now imagine me dramatically burst in tears like one should after every great thank you –speech.

This is (I think?) the longest fic I’ve written, and it was supposed to be just a quick smutty oneshot with a car mechanic Minho, haha what is my lifeeeee. I even have a few drabbles written for this verse, I’m going to post them sometime in the near future :3 (also, secret hint: if you would like to see a certain moment as a little drabble, you can always prompt me and I’ll see what I can do!)

Also, I’ve now successfully written not only regular minkey but also het!minkey and lesbian!minkey so I think I’ve got all the bases covered, right? This pairing just does it for me in all of these variations ;; Otp ;;

Anyhow! I’ll finally shut up now. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did :D

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – High Maintenance - Chapter 9/10

rabenhorst — Sun, 19 Jan 2014 20:06:33 GMT

Title: High Maintenance; Chapter 9/10
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: Jonghyun, Onew, Zhou Mi, Boa, girl!Taemin (some are around more than others)
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 47 200 (overall); 5610 for this part
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: When Gwiboon's car breaks down she expects the repairs to be an annoying hassle. Not in her wildest dreams had she hoped for an illegally hot mechanic to be there to ease her hardships.
Comments: Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

When they put their ad in the paper and the job available online, Minho was pretty certain they wouldn’t get a lot of qualified applicants. So he’s positively surprised when there’s not only one he can invite for a job interview, but actually three candidates that look fairly good on paper. He knows that only face-to-face interview can give him a proper impression, though, so he arranges to see all of them one by one.

And he’s right, after the interviews, he knows for certain which candidate he is going to hire. Maybe this Lee Donghae guy doesn’t have the most impressive papers or working experience, but he seems bubbly and easy to get along with, and Minho is sure he’s a better addition to their staff than either of the more stuck up men he interviewed.

He’s about to type up all of the needed paperwork, already planning how he’s going to call their new soon-to-be employee the first thing tomorrow, when there’s a light knock at the door. He looks up, surprised to see that Jonghyun is still there. He thought he’d left already a while ago, after he finished up with the motorbike he’d been working on.

“Hey, buddy, there’s some rich guy in a suit asking for you,” Jonghyun stage-whispers. Thankfully they’re in a separate room, so it’s not like his voice will be heard in the main hall, where the rich guy in a suit is apparently waiting. “It’s either our new valued customer or a lawyer to sue our asses, I don’t know which.”

Minho hums in amusement. “I’ll go ask them.”

As soon as Minho walks into the next room he recognizes the man waiting for him, and that’s already enough to send Minho’s good mood plummeting down. Nothing good can come of this. “Mr Kim,” he begins politely, greeting the man with a bow, “how can I help you?” He has no good guess as for why Gwiboon’s father would suddenly appear at his garage, surely there are ones better suited for him.

“My wife and I are concerned,” Mr Kim begins, without any semblance of a greeting. He’s an impressive man, and it’s clear he’s spent the majority of his life in leading positions, with the way the authority just oozes out of him. “We don’t think that your relationship with our daughter is good for her. Thus I am here, asking you to end it. You’ve had your fun, now it’s time to let her get on with her life. I’m sure you can understand my point of view.”

In retrospect, Minho thinks he should’ve probably expected something like that. Yet he’s taken by surprise, and it makes him stiffen as he fights the wave of anger that surges through him. His tone is completely calm and polite though, and he’s pretty certain he manages to keep his expression in check as well. “With all due respect, sir, you should talk to Gwiboon. I don’t make her decisions for her.”

The man scoffs. “My daughter is stubborn. Had I suggested her to change her mind, she would go against my will just on principle.” He says it like it’s enough explanation, like Minho should just readily agree to what he’s suggesting.

Minho doesn’t. He has no intention to. “What makes you think I’m any less stubborn?”

Instead of answering instantly, Mr Kim takes his time to look around the small garage. His expression already tells everything necessary about how disgusted he is by the place, how he thinks it’s unworthy of his presence. “Tell me, son. How much do you make a year? The same amount I make in a week? Maybe less. How do you intend to make sure my daughter can maintain her current lifestyle if she’s cut off from the family funding and only dependant on you?”

The conversation is already turning so absurd that Minho can’t hold back the burst of laughter. He shakes his head, disbelieving. “I’m sure she doesn’t even need me to get by. She’s perfectly capable of managing her own life.”

The perfect, businesslike posture cracks only for a second, before Mr Kim is back to only looking annoyed by the situation. “She doesn’t even have a job. What makes you think she’d so readily plummet herself into poverty, just for you?” His tone is getting more and more unfriendly with every word, as if he expected this to be a lot easier.

It takes all Minho has to keep himself calm, and to answer as politely as he can. “Mr Kim, I still think you should be directing all of these questions at Gwiboon. I’m not her spokesman.”

“I am willing to pay you.”

That, now, takes Minho by surprise more than anything. His eyes fly wide and he gapes at the older man, before he manages to stutter an unsure “Excuse me?”

“Here,” Mr Kim begins, simultaneously pulling his check book from inside of his suit jacket. He writes rapidly for a moment, before handing Minho the slip of paper. It’s a generous amount, enough to keep Minho from working for years if he so wishes. It’s enough to rent another place for his garage, or to hire more people to work for him. “You can cash this right away. And as soon as you break up with her, I’ll have another one sent to this address.”

The large number on the check only makes Minho feel sick. For a second, he considers ripping it to shreds, to let go of some of the anger, but eventually only calmly hands it back to the other man. He raises his chin, defiantly, along with his best attempt to stare the man down. “I think you need to leave. Now.”

Mr Kim looks at him with an arched eyebrow for a second. Then, he grabs the check, turning on his heels. “Very well.” There’s not another word exchanged as he walks out, closing the door behind himself, and for some reason all of the silence makes Minho feel more uneasy than the whole exchange before it. It feels like a promise of more, like a threat he cannot respond to.

Jonghyun’s voice startles Minho out of his thoughts, and when he turns he sees his friend has been watching the whole time, leaning against the black Camaro still standing in their shop. “Wow, what a dick! For a second there I was sure you’d strangle him with your bare hands.” He doesn’t look too far from that himself, either, with the way his face is scrunched up in an angry frown.

Now that the moment is gone, Minho notices his hands are shaking, with the anger and frustration that accumulated throughout it. “If he ever comes back here, don’t let him in.”

“No worries, man, I’ve got your back.” Jonghyun grins, that familiar expression calming Minho’s nerves easier than the previously shared anger. “Gwiboon would be proud of you. Even I think you looked hot when you just handed that check back like it was nothing.”

Minho chuckles. “I’m just glad she didn’t need to see any of this.” He sighs, allowing all air to escape from his lungs, and runs his fingers through his hair. “Wanna go grab a beer? I don’t think I’m up for finishing the paperwork anymore tonight.”

“Sure!” Jonghyun agrees readily. “What are friends for?”

It’s not often that Minho wakes up with a gigantic hangover. He’s usually the responsible drinker, or the designated driver, mostly because he doesn’t like the way the world spins out of his control and how the next morning is Hell on Earth. But apparently an uncomfortable confrontation with your girlfriend’s father can do that to a man, since when he carefully cracks an eye open he feels as if someone is sitting in the back of his skull and trying to bash it into pieces with a hammer.

The worst part isn’t even the headache, the way light hurts his eyes even through his eyelids, or the way his temples throb with every sluggish beat of his heart. The worst part is how he aches all over, feels like hurling his intestines on the floor and just wants to burrow into the covers and never get up. His throat is dry like sandpaper, too, and he’d kill for a gallon of water right now.

Convicted to his misery, Minho groans and tries to roll over, only to notice belatedly that there’s weight set on his legs that prevents him from doing so. Carefully, very carefully, he opens one eye again, trying to let his sight to adjust to light enough. “Gwiboon?” he asks, voice gravelly, as he recognizes her back. Why the fuck would she sit on his legs, hunched over in concentration? There’s no rational explanation to this, and the most eloquent question he can come up with is “What?”

The only answer he gains is a giggle. It’s somewhat alarming and he props himself up on his elbows, immediately regretting his decision as his head feels like exploding and his shoulders protest against the movement. “What are you doing?” he asks again, and finally she turns around, carefully crawling a bit higher until their faces are almost touching. She sets something aside, but Minho doesn’t get a good look at the small item before it rolls off the bed and lands on the floor with a soft thud.

“Hold still,” she says, raising one slender finger in warning. Then she reaches for the nightstand, and when she hands Minho a glass of water and two little white pills, Minho is about ready to ask her to marry him. He drinks all of the water in one huge gulp, while swallowing the painkillers, and is still left thirsty afterwards. Yet Gwiboon doesn’t budge, and apparently has no intention to for a while.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” Gwiboon asks, grinning, with a slight hint of malice in it. When she receives a headshake, one that immediately makes Minho grimace, she laughs. “You and Jonghyun appeared here singing so loud you probably woke up the whole neighbourhood. You tried to serenade me, before I managed to drag your ass into bed, and you can be grateful I bothered to wrestle you out of the most of your clothes!”

“I …what? Serenade?” Minho’s eyes widen in shock. There’s just too much information to take in, in those couple of sentences. “Where’s Jjong?”

“I called him a cab and he’s safely at home, Taeyeon confirmed that. And hey,” Gwiboon’s expression softens as she smiles at him, bringing one hand up to cup his cheek in her palm. “Your singing isn’t half-bad. I bet you could do really well if you weren’t drunk and half out of your mind. You’re welcome to try it again but not in the corridor, and not while the neighbours are trying to sleep.”

Minho can feel how his face is practically radiating heat with the embarrassed flush. “I’m not really a singer. Usually it’s Jjong who serenades people, I guess he’s bad influence on me.”

“I don’t really want dramatic love confessions from him, though,” she grins brightly, but there’s a curious tilt to her head. “Why were you getting absolutely smashed, though?” There’s even a hint of concern in her voice as she knows it’s not really habitual for Minho. A few beers, or even being slightly drunk, why not. But coming home barely able to walk? Not so common.

The question brings a pang of guilt, and Minho can taste the bile that rises in his mouth, the urge to throw up suddenly back. “We,” he begins, but then falls silent for a good while. He can’t tell Gwiboon that her father tried to bribe him to breaking up with her. She might not hold any illusions about her parents, but knowing that would be plain cruel. So before he even knows it, the white lie slips from his lips. “I finished interviewing the applicants and there’s one suitable so we celebrated the decision to hire him.”

“Oh?” Her expression brightens. “That’s so cool! I told you that you’d find someone as soon as you advertise a little! I hope you hired someone that’s easy on the eyes… A girl’s gotta have some nice things to look at.” She winks obnoxiously. And despite the hangover, he knows that’s worth a revenge so in a quick motion he rolls them over, pinning her to the mattress to tickle her. She screeches with laughter, trying to bat his hands away. “No, no! No! Stop! Your toes!”

It’s the last one that makes Minho stop. His toes? What the hell do his toes have to do with this? With anything? With a huff he falls to the side and off her, looking down at his feet – only to be greeted with bright pink toenails. The nail polish glints in the light and oh god is that really glitter on it? “What the – ?” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not even knowing how to react.

Gwiboon has sit up and is now grinning at him brightly, unable to hold back the stray bursts of laughter. “Look. We match.” She holds up her hand and indeed, her nails are painted the exact same colour. It doesn’t really explain anything, and his expression must tell as much since she just shrugs. “I just felt like you needed an adequate punishment for not telling me you’d go get shitfaced, okay.” She doesn’t sound like she’s mad, quite the contrary, but it must make sense to her on some level.

He just shrugs. “Fine. Where do you keep the nail polish remover?”

“You will never find out!” she announces and practically bounces off the bed in her haste to run away.

Minho doesn’t follow, not instantly. He drops back into bed, allowing himself a moment of just sinking into the cushions. He feels slightly better now that he’s actually awake and got some water, and he knows this is nothing that some breakfast and more water won’t fix. He just needs a bit of time. And well, bright pink toenails aren’t really an issue big enough to ruin his day.

Eventually Minho drags himself out of bed and into the shower. Dressed in a pair of old, worn and soft sweats and a plain t-shirt he pads into the living room, his painted toenails glinting in the light as if mocking him with every step. Somehow even that just makes him grin, though, and he shakes his head at his own ridiculousness. He needs some food, ASAP, and some water, preferably at least a barrel of it.

He doesn’t even make it to the kitchen though, since as soon as he steps into the living room he stops dead in his tracks. There’s a full dinner – or lunch? – set on the floor, on top of an old picnic blanket that looks like it’s seen the best of its days. Basically it’s a bunch of takeout containers, and three pitchers of water, arranged carefully. If that now isn’t a sight for the sore eyes.

Everything gets even better when Gwiboon emerges from the kitchen, holding a gigantic cup of coffee that she hands to Minho with a smile. “Now, sit your gorgeous ass down and we can finally eat. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up, starving. You’ve never slept this long, I swear.”

Minho has half a mind to ask what time it is but then he just decides he doesn’t care. The first sip of coffee is like heaven, and he closes his eyes for a second to appreciate it. He doesn’t wait long to obey the orders he got, though, and sits down on the floor next to Gwiboon so that they can both lean against the couch while they tackle the impressive amount of food. She’s dressed in one of his old soccer jerseys, big enough on her to work as a short dress, and his heart does something stupid in his chest. When did he start leaving half of his clothes at Gwiboon’s place, anyway?

“Is it still too early in the morning for your vocal chords to function?” Gwiboon asks, teasingly, as he just keeps staring for a while, cradling the mug of coffee between his palms. She reaches out to flick him on the nose, before snatching the closest container of food to shovel some of the fried rice on her plate.

“Hey,” Minho begins, his voice slightly rough again from the lack of use. “Thanks.” He is indeed starving, his grumbling stomach reminds him, and he downs the rest of his coffee in one go to set the cup aside. He has no idea what’s in the containers but he’s not a picky eater so he reaches for one at random. The food is still hot, so it must’ve arrived while he was showering, and somehow he totally missed it. Not that he’s complaining, not when everything tastes absolutely delicious.

At first they eat in silence, before Gwiboon begins asking him random questions, ranging from his favourite food as a child to if he had any pets, from his dream car to the next place he would like to travel to. Slowly he begins to not only answer the questions but to shoot some in turn, and it’s like a game while they work through the masses of food she’s ordered.

It makes her giddy to notice how many of the answers she already knows, or manages to guess correctly, and she makes a triumphant fistpump when she gets Minho’s favourite cologne right. It’s not even the one he uses most often, because it’s apparently too expensive, so she congratulates herself doubly and swears she’ll buy him ten bottles of the stuff.

She takes a sip of water and carefully sets the glass down, before dropping the next question. “Do you want kids?” It makes her startle, slightly, since wow that escalated fast. She was going to ask if Minho’s brother has any kids, and she has no idea how the question managed to re-form on her tongue.

Minho doesn’t seem phased though. He doesn’t even pause chewing, and as soon as he’s swallowed he nods. “Yes.” He looks at her, a slight smile dancing on his lips as if he knows that she didn’t intend to ask that right now. “Eventually.”

Somehow the question doesn’t feel as big anymore, and she laughs, shaking her head a bit. “Good that you added that. I don’t think there are any children in my five-year plan.” Not that she has a five-year-plan, really. She did before Minho appeared into her life, but now she’s pretty much just resigned to wait and see what’s waiting along the ride. “But when the time is right, yeah, why not.” she adds, after a short silence. “How many?”

“What?” Minho looks confused for a second, but then realizes they’re still talking about kids and gives a small shrug. “Oh. Two?” It sounds like a question more than a statement, so Gwiboon throws in a wild guess that he hasn’t exactly thought about this before. She hasn’t, at least. There’s never been anyone she would’ve wanted to actually stick with for good, so she hasn’t needed to give these things an actual, serious thought.

“Two sounds good,” she decides with a nod, her eyes on a prawn she’s trying to fish – no pun intended – out of the thin sauce in an otherwise almost empty container. “But not at the same time! I’ve seen how Jonghyun sometimes looks like he hasn’t slept for a decade and gosh, no, twins must be horrible.”

Minho doesn’t even try to cover up his grin. “I don’t think that’s something we can decide.”

“Shush.” Gwiboon waves a dismissive hand at him. “I just did! Besides, not in the five-year-plan, remember?” She leans back, completely stuffed and unable to eat another bite. There’s still food in the containers, though, and she watches as Minho sets out to dig through them for the best bits. Even if they both know he’s probably going to end up eating it all, in the end.

Maybe it’s a little mean but Gwiboon waits until Minho manages to stuff his mouth full, before breaking the silence. “I want a dog, though.”

As wished, Minho nearly chokes on the rice, coughing to clear his airways before he manages a surprised reply. “A dog?”

“A dog,” she repeats. “What’s wrong with that?”

“No, nothing!” He laughs, raising a hand in a universal sign of defeat. “I just could’ve sworn you’re a cat person.”

“I like both,” she says, and with that the case is closed, for now. It’s not the right time yet for children, but it’s not the right time yet for a pet, either, but she’s content that they can talk about it anyway. Even if it wasn’t a part of the plan for today. With a small grin, she decides to go back to the original questioning. “So, what was your favourite movie when you were eight? Please tell me it was something girly, I’d love to imagine you sobbing at a Disney movie.”

“Disney isn’t girly,” he grumbles, but obligingly answers the question anyway. There’s really nothing that could ruin his mood right now, not even the happenings of the previous day. As vague as the whole conversation is, when one gets down to it, everything about it implies that Gwiboon has her mind set to stick with him for long time to come. There’s a dark shadow looming somewhere in the back of his mind as it’s impossible to completely forget about the conversation he had with her father, but he determinedly ignores it the best he can.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. This matters.

Working at the garage has ensured that Gwiboon has grown to know Jonghyun really well, too, and the two have struck up a friendship that no one really expected at first. They still mock each other ruthlessly, but now something in it has shifted and it’s not really aimed to insult anymore, it’s more the way they work, the way they show they do care.

They also notice that they make a pretty efficient pair when trying to do inventory at the garage, as Jonghyun rattles off everything for Gwiboon to list. If it were Minho doing it, she would probably be tempted to do something to distract him from such a boring, tedious task. That’s one reason the two stay behind when Minho goes to take care of some errands after closing time.

Jonghyun keeps babbling and interrupting their work for some reason, though, and as much as Gwiboon wants to yell at him for it she finds herself mostly amused. “You wouldn’t believe what a hangover I had yesterday!” he announces, leaning into a big cabinet so that his voice echoes from inside it. “I bet you woke Minho up all nicely, but me? I woke up to a baby screeching in my ear and Taeyeon screeching in the other until I got up to change poopy diapers. I swear, that is not a way any human being wants to wake up!”

He pauses his complaints to squint at something, and Gwiboon takes the opportunity to prod him in his side with her pen. It makes Jonghyun yelp and swat at her blindly, but she easily sidesteps the attempt. “Your own fault for celebrating too eagerly! You could’ve kept a level head like adults. Or, I don’t know, at least invited me along.”

That makes Jonghyun pull his head back from the cabinet and frown at her. “Celebrating?”

Instantly, little alarm bells go off in Gwiboon’s mind and she stares right back at him, as if willing to make him pinpoint what it is. “…why were you drinking?” she asks slowly, when no answer is forthcoming on its own.

It seems like Jonghyun realizes something, albeit a little belatedly, and quickly tries to retreat back into the cabinet. “No we were totally celebrating. Yes, celebrating.” He is sort of mumbling, though, and when he tries to rattle off the next things to list, Gwiboon all but slams her pen and notepad down to grab his waist and pull him out of the goddamn piece of furniture.

She doesn’t really give him any chance to lie. She can be convincing when she wants to, so within the next few minutes she already knows everything about her father’s visit to the garage, about Minho’s reaction to it, and about the drinking that ensued right after. She suddenly feels sick, unable to determine if she’s angry or hurt or some sort of a mixture of both, along with a million other feelings surging through her.

“We’re finished here,” she says absently, as she hurries out of the garage. Instinctively she grabs her phone and shoots Jinki a text, something along the lines of I’m going to fucking kill my family, just because it’s always been a second nature for her to inform him whenever something is horribly amiss. Her phone instantly beeps with an answer but she doesn’t even check it, beyond caring at this point.

Either Gwiboon has the shittiest luck ever, or this is some sort of divine intervention, since she barely gets to her car when her mobile beeps again and it’s her mother calling. She’s just finished thinking that she won’t answer a single message or call from her parents, but she picks up anyway. Instead of listening to what her mother has to say, she seethes into the phone. “Don’t you dare ever mess with my life again, do you hear me!?”

Mrs Kim only sounds confused. “What? Gwiboon, what are you –”

Gwiboon won’t have any of that so she cuts her mother off impatiently, her volume rising as she gets more and more agitated. “I know you sent father to bribe Minho and I know you have some more tricks up your sleeve but guess what, you can forget about them! I can’t believe you stooped so low! How much did you offer him? How fucking much am I worth, mother?”

“Darling, calm down,” Mrs Kim says, and while it might sound calm to anyone else Gwiboon knows the layers of disappointment and aggravation in her voice. “You know you shouldn’t talk like that to your mother.”

“Fuck you. You’re trying to ruin the best thing that has happened to me, and I won’t stand by and watch you do it! You have no right to interfere!” By the end of it there are passers-by looking at her oddly, some even slowing down, but she doesn’t care. She’s so angry she feels like she could just break something.

There’s a tense silence, but it only lasts a heartbeat. “I know what’s best for my own daughter.”

Gwiboon laughs. Yet there’s nothing happy about it. “No. You really don’t. And don’t bother even trying to contact me again before you finally realize that.” She doesn’t wait for a reply, but ends the call before her mother can get a single word in. She even deletes her number, just because it gives her some sort of twisted satisfaction right then.

Now, in theory, things could end there. Practically? Not so much. Gwiboon knows it’s not that easy to cut ties with her parents. Not when she lives in an apartment owned by them, not when her studies are financed by them. She has never been more grateful of the fact that she almost has her degree, at least then there’s one thing less to worry about.

She does know, however, that she doesn’t want to take a single thing from her parents anymore, neither good nor bad. Not before they come crawling on their knees to apologize to Minho, before they acknowledge that they have crossed some serious boundaries here. She doesn’t even want to see them, and the thought of living in the same city with them already turns her stomach.

Maybe it’s the recent melancholy, maybe it’s because Boa has been dropping hints of her having a job offer in their fashion house, maybe it’s the way she’s been dwelling in her memories for weeks, or maybe it’s plain anger. But the more she thinks of this, the more convinced she is that the only way to truly get rid of her parents and their control, to escape this epic disaster, is to run. To China.

By the time Gwiboon hits the brakes in front of Minho’s apartment building she’s only surviving on running that thought in her head like a mantra. She’s never been this angry in her life, never felt this betrayed, and the adrenaline keeps pumping through her veins. She hasn’t managed to calm down at all, quite the contrary, and if she’d spare it a single thought right now she’d know she probably shouldn’t have been driving in the state she’s in.

The agitation must show since the second she steps into the apartment – after ringing the doorbell and then letting herself in with her own key – Minho looks at her like he’s seen a ghost. “What’s wrong?” he asks, truly concerned, but none of that reaches Gwiboon right now.

“Why didn’t you tell me that my father tried to warn you off?” she demands, and a part of her wants to just grab Minho and shake him for keeping secrets like this from her. All she does however is take a few agitated steps forward, and point an accusing finger at him. “I deserved to know that!”

Minho looks honestly chastised. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, I just… couldn’t.” He shrugs, aware of how lame it sounds now, after it’s all done and too late to change things. Rationally, he knows he should’ve told her, but still… he would probably make the same decision all over again.

Quickly, Gwiboon steps forward until she’s standing right before Minho. Even in her high heels she’s considerably shorter than him, so she grabs his shoulders to pull him closer, face to face. She looks completely serious, completely earnest, as she looks him straight in the eye. “Run away with me.”

“What?” Minho almost takes a step back in surprise, eyes wide.

“Run away with me,” she repeats, urgency in her voice. “I need to get away from my parents! I’m almost done with my degree, and Boa promised me there’d definitely be a position for me in their company for whenever I want it. I’m sure you’d find a job, easily, with how good you are. We could start over!”

“In China!?” He feels like he’s been thrown into an absurd dream. There’s no way he’s hearing things right.

But Gwiboon only nods firmly. “Yes, in China! It’s not like it’s on the other side of the world!” She’s still holding on to him, as if he’s the only thing anchoring her to reality right now. That’s pretty much how she feels, too. She’s still shaking with anger, but now there’s also something like hope rising in the midst of it.

All of that is crushed when he opens his mouth to reply. He sighs, and closes his eyes for a second before meeting her gaze again. “I can’t,” he says, as softly as he can. “Gwiboon, I can’t. You know that.”

She lets go of him like she’s been burned. The hurt is clear on her face, the disappointment, laced with confusion, and she takes several steps back. It makes something in Minho ache, and he wants to pull her back close, but he knows he needs to make her calm down somehow, to see how unreasonable she’s being.

“It’s taken me years to build up the garage, and it’s finally starting to do better, I can’t just abandon it and leave,” he begins with the most obvious part. He hates the look in her eyes, but he has to be honest. “And Gwiboon, think about it. I know you have close friends in China but you have friends here, too. You don’t really want to leave them behind, do you? You’re just angry. You don’t want this.”

“Oh I don’t?” Just like that, the myriad of feelings is replaced by sheer anger again and she doesn’t care how the volume of her voice gets higher and higher. “Now you know what’s best for me? You know what I fucking think!? It’s not enough my parents tell me what to do, but now you have to do it too!? I am perfectly capable of thinking on my own, thank you very much!”

This is starting to go horribly wrong. “Gwiboon, I didn’t mean –”

Gwiboon has none of it, she interrupts him with an impatient hand gesture and by speaking right over him. “You did. And I am not going to stand here while you coax me into living my life like you want me to. I’m tired of people telling me what to do! I haven’t made one single important decision without considering the feelings of everyone around me, and I’m sick and tired of it!”

“But…”

“No! You made yourself very clear. You don’t want me? Fine, you won’t have me!” Quickly, she spins around and marches to the door, only pausing for a moment when she’s already halfway out of the apartment. “I was willing to leave everything behind for you. I guess it was just another dumb decision. Since apparently everyone knows those are all I ever do on my own.”

She slams the door. Minho stands there, not even knowing what hit him.

NEXT

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[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – High Maintenance - Chapter 8/10

rabenhorst — Sat, 11 Jan 2014 13:52:39 GMT

Title: High Maintenance; Chapter 8/10
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: Jonghyun, Onew, Zhou Mi, Boa, girl!Taemin (some are around more than others)
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 47 200 (overall); 4652 for this part
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: When Gwiboon's car breaks down she expects the repairs to be an annoying hassle. Not in her wildest dreams had she hoped for an illegally hot mechanic to be there to ease her hardships.
Comments: Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Turns out, Minho is even more tired than he thought he was, as he doesn’t wake up when he’s left in bed alone. He doesn’t wake up to the sound of the shower running, or to the litany of curses from the kitchen. He doesn’t wake up when the front door opens and closes for the first time, and not when it happens again half an hour later.

He does, however, wake up when he’s pounced, Gwiboon landing on top of him, pinning him down with her full weight. All air escapes his lungs and for a second he struggles, before his brain catches up with what’s going on and he tries to turn it into a tickle-revenge instead. “Are you trying to kill me!?” he asks, breathless, as he finally manages to wrestle Gwiboon off him and pin her into the mattress.

She’s laughing, her head thrown back, and squirms feebly when he aims for her ticklish sides again. “No! I just thought it’s time to wake up the sleeping beauty!” She’s wheezing when he finally relents and sits up straighter. “I got us breakfast,” she says, still giggling, “from the cafeteria down the street. And I’ve got your favourite bagels. Now tell me, do you want to go back to sleep?”

No, Minho really doesn’t. Yet the reason isn’t as much the admittedly very tempting offer of breakfast, as the way Gwiboon looks absolutely breathtaking. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes alight with giddiness, and the silly grin on her lips makes her look even more beautiful in his eyes. So instead of answering, he leans in and captures her lips in a slow, sensual kiss, which makes her forget all about the question anyway.

This time when he slips his hands underneath her blouse it’s not with the intention to tickle so he lets the touch be more firm, revels in the way it makes her shudder as if on command. The kiss breaks on its own, leaving them just looking at one another, until Gwiboon melts into another smile. “I fucking love your hands.” She’s said it before, but it still always somehow surprises Minho. He knows his hands are calloused from work, big and warm, but he never quite understood how she can be so addicted to such a detail.

“Let me make you love them even more,” he says instead of anything else, smirking in a way he knows will make her want to slap the cockiness right off his face. She does huff, but lifts her hands when urged anyway, and allows him to slip the blouse off. It leaves her hair more tousled than before, but Minho thinks it’s definitely an improvement.

Thankfully the clasp of her bra is in the front, he thinks as he kisses her and aims for getting rid of that piece of clothing as well. Either he’s too distracted by the kiss, or it’s simply easier said than done, since he keeps fumbling and doesn’t manage to undo the hook no matter what. Finally he has to withdraw from the kiss, as the laughter bursts out of him. “I swear, I’ll never learn to open a bra.”

Gwiboon laughs, too, giving his shoulders a slight playful push. “Does that mean I need to stop wearing them?”

“No,” Minho hums, and places his palms on her ribcage. He slides them up, until he can slip his fingers underneath the annoying garment to cop a feel. She shivers, her eyes slipping shut, and shifts on her place, easily trapping him between her legs. “You could just leave them on,” he goes on, and leans down to press his lips on the soft skin between her breasts. He catches the clasp of the bra between his teeth, tugging a little. “Or I could rip them off with my teeth?”

The suggestion makes way for another peal of laughter from Gwiboon, who swats at his head to make him stop goofing around. “Okay, Tarzan, just let me get out of this so we can get it on.”

A little reluctantly he retreats, but the frown can barely form on his forehead before he’s lost staring again. Gwiboon undoes the clasp in one twist of her fingers, so easily it almost feels mocking, and then arches her back to wriggle out of the garment. It’s not Minho’s fault if he stares, any man would – no, scratch that, any living human being would. At least he’s convinced of it.

“Now come back here,” Gwiboon purrs as soon as she’s topless, sliding her fingers up Minho’s chest in a feathery light touch. She’s obviously enjoying the sight as much as he is, and even makes a happy little sigh as he leans closer and she gets to touch him without having to reach too far. It’s like she knows all the right ways to tease him further, and vice versa.

They take their time removing the rest of their clothing, exploring and enjoying, rolling over in the thankfully very wide bed more than once in their playful struggle for control. Eventually she wins, even if she knows it’s only because he allows her to, and she ends up on top of him, straddling his waist. He’s so hard he wants to just grab her and have his way with her but he doesn’t, instead reaching for the headboard to cling on to it. It’s the only way he can stop himself from breaking his resolve.

Gwiboon seems to enjoy it, more than that, and she rewards Minho with dirty, languid kisses, and with shameless rolls of her hips. Even when she finally rides him she keeps it slow, gives them both the chance to focus on the moment with all of their senses. Only when she’s trembling in his arms he takes initiative again and flips them over, revelling in each soft sigh, each shudder, each sign of pleasure he can emit from her.

It’s like they’ve grown to know each other so thoroughly that they’ve learned all the dirty little tricks that drive the other out of their mind. Or maybe it’s something deeper, something more profound. Not that either of them has any presence of mind to waste a thought on that, not when they slowly come down from the high, exchanging lazy kisses as they keep grinning into each other’s mouths.

They can both be cuddly when the occasion calls for it, but he’s definitely the cuddlier one, and even now he’s the first one who moves to get them more comfortable. He noses the sweaty patch of skin under her jaw, pressing a line of kisses right there, and she can’t help but squirm and laugh. “That tickles,” she announces, still breathless. “And now the coffee is cold. I walked two blocks to get it and now it’s cold.”

“I’ll still drink it,” Minho promises, amusement dancing in his voice. He’s not going to be bothered by something as trivial as cold coffee, not right now. “Now shut up and let me enjoy this.”

Gwiboon huffs, but already the next second she snuggles closer, even though they’re both sweaty and gross and in desperate need of a shower. Maybe that’ll be their next stop. The coffee can’t get any colder.

It’s nothing new that Gwiboon doesn’t hear from her parents in ages so she doesn’t think anything of it when the next two weeks are complete radio silence. Until suddenly she gets a call from her mother, asking for her to come over for tea. She agrees, knowing her mother and the dire consequences disagreeing would result in. It’s much easier to have the tea with her willingly, she knows. Besides, sometimes they do end up having fun. Even if those times are getting scarce.

This time isn’t one of those fun times. Gwiboon can barely take a seat and thank the maid for the tea and the tray of pastries set carefully in the centre of the table, before her mother already opens the line of conversation. “So, Gwiboon. You haven’t been spending much time with Jinki lately?”

Gwiboon stops midway reaching for a delicious looking muffin, but then shrugs and takes it anyway. It’s not like questioning of this sort hasn’t happened before. “He’s been busy. You do know he works full time. While I study, if you’ve forgotten, so it’s no wonder we don’t spend so much time together now.”

“Yet you’ve been seeing this…” Mrs Kim scrunches up her nose. “Whoever you brought with you for your father’s birthday.” She’s clearly disapproving of that, as if she hadn’t made it clear already before. Her posture is stiff, her hands in her lap, and she’s not even making a move to take any of the table’s offerings.

If Gwiboon didn’t have her mouth full of the muffin she would’ve exploded instantly. Now she actually has to chew first, and it gives her time to think, and time to calm down. Even if it is only seconds. “Yes. I told you that it’s serious. I wouldn’t have brought him here otherwise.”

“Why do you insist on doing this?” Mrs Kim asks, as if it truly baffles her why her daughter is being so difficult. “Jinki is a perfectly handsome and polite young man. You obviously care deeply for him, and he cares deeply for you. I don’t see where the problem lies. If you reject him only to disappoint your parents…”

“Mother!” Gwiboon cuts in, scandalized. “I’m not rejecting him! There’s nothing there to reject! I love him like a brother, and one doesn’t marry their brother. You’ll just have to accept that! Jinki and I will never, ever, end up married with half a dozen beautiful grandbabies for you.”

“You’re so harsh in your judgement, dear.” That’s when Gwiboon knows her mother is furious. She never uses terms of endearment unless she’s angry. “Maybe you will change your mind, in a couple of years. You’re still young, you still have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t make this mistake.”

“It’s not a mistake,” Gwiboon counters. She knows she sounds like a petulant child, but she has no idea how to get through to her mother properly. The muffin starts tasting ashen in her mouth and she drops the rest of it in the plate, trying to wash the bitter taste of the conversation down with a large sip of tea.

“At least choose more wisely,” her mother goes on, “there is a number of handsome young men working in your father’s corporation, you could…” All it takes is a headshake from Gwiboon to make Mrs Kim’s features harden even more. “Why are you so stubborn, dear? And why this… commoner? He’s so below you.”

Gwiboon doesn’t even think. She just replies. “No, actually, he’s usually the one on top.”

“Gwiboon!” The scandalized look on her mother’s face is actually so worth it, as she stares at Gwiboon like she can’t believe what just came out of her little daughter’s mouth, and like she is going to be haunted by the mental images from that statement forever.

It makes Gwiboon grin. The smile drops off soon though, and she’s completely serious as she looks straight at her mother. “He’s not below anyone. And you would know that if you’d given a second to actually get to know him instead of being a vindictive witch. He loves me, mother. Shouldn’t that be what relationships are about? There’s nothing you can say that’d make me change my mind.”

She stands to leave, but Mrs Kim hurries to grab her wrist to stop her from marching off. “Your father isn’t happy, either. He might see it fit to… re-evaluate the funding he’s investing in you.”

Angrily Gwiboon yanks her arm out of her mother’s grip. “Then let him re-evaluate all he wants.”

She doesn’t stay for anything more. She’s heard enough.

Angry beyond belief Gwiboon storms out of her parents’ apartment, but when she gets into her car she has no idea where to go. She can’t go home, she’d only get more and more frustrated, thinking of the discussion and the situation. Yet she doesn’t have class to distract herself from all this either. Minho is working, and Gwiboon would rather bite off her tongue than tell him what kind of shit her mother was saying about him again.

It doesn’t leave her with many options so she dials Jinki’s number. He answers after the fourth beep. “Hey, what’s up? I’m late for a meeting, is it something serious or can I call you back?”

“I really, really need someone to talk to,” Gwiboon bursts out, already feeling a little better at admitting that out loud. “Can you call me as soon as you’re free? We could go for late lunch or something?” She knows they could easily get a reservation somewhere, even in a private cabinet, or they could just grab some takeout and head back to either one’s apartment to eat it.

Jinki proves yet again why he’s the best friend anyone could wish for. “Of course. I’ll clear my schedule so we have enough time. This should only take less than an hour. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Gwiboon smiles. “Just call me. I’m going to make a reservation somewhere.” With that it’s agreed, and she hangs up at his goodbyes. For a good moment she sits still in the car, with her head propped back against the headrest, but then finally decides to get a grip. She makes the reservations, manages to get them a private room, drives back to her apartment and busies herself with random bursts of cleaning before her phone finally rings and she can get going.

They get to their table, order their food, and only when they’ve been left securely alone to enjoy their meal in peace Gwiboon strikes up the conversation that’s been burning in the pit of her stomach for the past couple of hours. “I don’t know what to do with my parents anymore. Mother, mostly, but I know she has father’s support in everything she does.”

“What is she doing now?” Jinki asks, frowning.

Gwiboon looks up at him, and well, there’s no other way to say it so she blurts it all out. “She keeps insisting I marry you. You’re perfect, you’re all she wants in a son-in-law, and she isn’t going to rest until it happens.” She sighs. She knows they’ve been through this before but she’s never felt this stressed by her parents. Not even when she was eight and realized that the only way to gain their approval was to be the perfect doll that represents their family like a little adult and charms everyone with it.

“You know,” Jinki looks hesitant, but reaches out anyway and grabs her hand to still her, to make her stop fidgeting. “Maybe I should tell them? That as flattered as I am they consider me worthy of their daughter, I have no intention of marrying her, or any woman for that matter.”

“No,” Gwiboon answers quickly, squeezing his hand. “No, you shouldn’t. It’s your decision who you tell, and you shouldn’t do it just because she’s being a stubborn idiot. It’s not the first time I’ve fought with her!”

“But –”

“No, Jinki. I don’t want to be the reason you were pressured to out yourself.” Gwiboon says it like it’s the end of discussion, and for her it is. If Jinki wants to shout it at the world, she’ll be the first one to support him, but the decision should never be forced upon him. Definitely not by her petty little problems. “Nothing should make you to that if it’s not right for you. I’ll deal. Just, if they ask, keep telling them we are so not getting married, okay?”

He smiles at her, genuinely, a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. “You know I will. It’d feel too much like incest anyway,” he finishes, and it’s just enough to make her crack a smile too. She knew calling Jinki was the best possible decision she could’ve made. Already being allowed to rant to him, to complain about the situation, makes her feel considerably better.

Eventually Gwiboon manages to push the whole parents-issue out of her mind. Partly it’s thanks to her amazing friends who listen to her complaining willingly, partly it’s thanks to her increasingly hectic schedule. The exams and deadlines for papers start to pop up one after another and Gwiboon finds herself stuck with her nose in a book or with her laptop on her knees more often than not. She also keeps losing sleep over it – too much to do and too few hours in the day.

So basically there’s no time to angst over her parents being gigantic douchebags. She even has to abandon the garage and all the needed paperwork for the worst week when she has an exam basically every day, and needs all of her awake-time for revising. For all her life, she’s wanted to achieve the best results to please her parents, but surprisingly, now they couldn’t be further from her mind. She studies because she wants to know these things. Because she has a garage to keep running, goddamnit, and she’s going to be the best underpaid secretary with a way too impressive degree.

She says as much to Minho once, in a burst of frustration when she just can’t seem to remember anything important for the next day. Minho has taken to come over to her apartment every day after work, fixing her something to eat while she struggles through the books and handouts. It’s so domestic and nice that it makes her feel all fuzzy and warm inside. It’s something she hadn’t realized she wanted, but now can’t imagine going without.

Even Jonghyun pops up on a Friday, much to Gwiboon’s dismay since she was looking forward to a slight study break in form of locking Minho in the bedroom and losing the key. Yet it turns out to be surprisingly much fun. They order takeout, then have a few beers, until the whole world is buzzing around them in a pleasant haze. At first they’re sitting on Gwiboon’s plush couch but eventually Jonghyun manages to stain the white fabric with salsa. Gwiboon looks like she’s going to kill him, or kick him out, but eventually just orders him to sit on the floor. Which he has no objection to.

“Don’t you have a wife and children at home waiting for you?” Gwiboon asks at one point. It’s not even to chase him out, not anymore. She’s perfectly comfortable right where she is, sprawled on the floor with her head pillowed on Minho’s thighs and Minho’s long fingers tangled in her hair. “You should’ve brought Taeyeon over,” she goes on, and Minho exchanges a surprised look with Jonghyun, “I would like to actually meet her without screaming right in her face.”

“Next time,” Jonghyun promises easily, his grin absolutely sunny as he takes a sip of his beer. “She’s at her parents’ place with the kiddos. But I think we can convince them to babysit sometime so that she gets to join our excellent company.”

“Damn straight we’re excellent company!” Gwiboon announces, her eyes closed. The world is spinning a little too much to her liking, but the gentle stroking of her hair soothes her down and makes her want to purr. “You can tell her I promise not to scream. Unless she deserves it somehow, gotta leave a loophole in there somewhere.”

Minho laughs. “Are you sure you didn’t have one beer too many, Gwiboon? You should probably head to bed.”

“No. Don’t want to. If I go to bed, it means I’m going to have to get up, and then it means I need to tackle all of those accountings you’ve probably done all wrong these past weeks.” She’s a little proud of how she manages to string together such a long sentence without any difficulty. Or, without much difficulty.

“I haven’t touched them,” Minho says, amused. Jonghyun hurries to add he hasn’t either, before Minho has the chance to go on. “You told us to keep away so we did. It’s not like being a couple of weeks behind will kill us.”

“Good.” She nods. “Have you found someone to hire yet?” There’d been a lot of talk about hiring someone to work at least part-time with the cars, especially since they don’t need to pay Gwiboon anything as things are now. They had an argument about it, since Minho would want to pay her just on principle, but she put her foot down and said she has enough income as it is.

“No,” Jonghyun shakes his head, even though she’s not looking. “I put ads up in almost all the local grocery stores but no one has called us about it yet. At least no one who was serious about it.” He shudders as he remembers the idiotic prank calls he had to deal with earlier this week.

“It seems like there’s not much interest,” Minho agrees, frowning.

Gwiboon just huffs. “You should put an ad to the paper. And online! We live in the 21st century! C’mon, if you just want someone who lives within three blocks of the garage you’re going to be gravely disappointed. Have you no sense at all?” The words hold certain warmth to them, though, enough for them to lose the edge of an insult.

“We’ll put up an ad,” Minho promises, mostly to make her shut up about it. Then again there is sense in it too, and he feels a little bit dumb for not realizing that himself. She says that much out loud, even if not in as coherent sentences as before. That’s when Minho decides that it’s time to put her to bed, and far too easily hoists her up from the floor.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Jonghyun says, and if Gwiboon wasn’t so tired she’d point out that he technically invited himself and she had nothing to do with it. Jonghyun is spared now, though, and he waves his goodbyes, along with promising to bring Taeyeon along next time.

Minho carries Gwiboon to bed, tucks her in, and stays the night. Even though none of the evening went as Gwiboon planned, she is still ready to call it a success.

As soon as things calm down enough, Gwiboon easily slips back to the old routine. She doesn’t really have class anymore, but it doesn’t mean all the work is done yet. So she tries to get as much of that done as soon as she gets up, and heads to the garage after two or three in the afternoon to go through all the necessary paperwork there. Usually she stops at a café down the street on her way, to get some coffee to go, now that the coffeemaker at the garage is helplessly broken and no one has yet replaced it.

She’s flipping through her phone as she slips into the cafeteria following someone who is polite enough to hold the door open for her long enough. There’s a line, so she has to wait, and she busies herself by harassing both of her friends living in China with rapid text messages. She tried to text Jinki too, at first, but he didn’t answer so she gave up. Zhou Mi answers scarcely, but apparently Boa is as bored as Gwiboon is as she keeps answering as quickly as Gwiboon manages to type the messages out.

Gwiboon is just in the middle of typing about the horrible sweater the man in front of her in line is wearing, when she happens to glance up. It’s completely by chance that she even looks towards one of the tables close to the window, but when she does she nearly drops her phone. It’s Jinki, sitting right there although he should have nothing to do in this part of town. He lives and works in about the furthest corner possible from here.

And he’s not alone. He’s laughing at something, like he laughs when he’s completely at ease with his companion, and that makes Gwiboon more and more curious. Silently, she steps out of the line and approaches the table, trying to keep her heels from clicking on the floor too much. She does get a good look at the man Jinki’s with, and she can’t say she disapproves. Obviously nothing can compare to her own good taste in men, but there can only be so many Minhos in the world. At least this one is attractive, has big sparkling eyes and a contagious smile.

What’s best is that they both seem to be completely smitten. It satisfies Gwiboon’s curiosity enough, and she now knows no one is trying to take advantage of her best friend, so she makes her presence known. It doesn’t take more than the sound of her steps to make the both men look up, Jinki’s expression a comically surprised one. “Gwiboon! What are you doing here!?” He scrambles to get up, but Gwiboon just waves a dismissive hand at him.

“Sweetie, I work right around the block,” she reminds him, an amused grin dancing on her lips. She’s enjoying this perhaps a little too much, but that can’t be helped. It’s not every day you get to meet your friend’s mystery boyfriend. “I dropped in to get some coffee on the way. What are you doing here?” She gives a pointed glance at the man across the table, who seems slightly embarrassed if the light dusting of a blush on his cheeks is anything to go by.

It pulls Jinki from his daze though, and the surprised expression melts back to the goofy grin from before. “Oh. Kyuhyun lives around here too, so we sometimes meet up for coffee or …other things.” He’s blushing too, now, and that makes Gwiboon want to hug him tight.

She doesn’t, though, but instead turns to Kyuhyun and offers her hand in greeting. “Nice to meet you. I’m Gwiboon.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Kyuhyun offers a smile in return, even if it’s slightly wary. “Nice to meet you too.” He seems like a genuinely nice person, says Gwiboon’s first instinct, and she decides to go with that.

“I, on the other hand, haven’t heard anything about you.” She purses her lips, giving Jinki a judging look. It turns back into a grin soon enough, and she reaches to pat Jinki’s shoulder to keep him from having an aneurysm. “We need to get together once and have dinner, the whole bunch of us. I believe some proper introductions are in order.”

“Yeah,” Jinki agrees, and as he looks at Kyuhyun for confirmation he gains a nod as an answer. “But please, Gwiboon, go. Let me survive this mortification first.”

She laughs. “Sure thing! We’ll set up a date some other time.” She says her goodbyes, and as soon as she turns around she whips her phone out again and starts texting the big news to both of her friends in China. She immediately receives six answering messages in rapid succession, ranging from is he cute to more detailed questions she doesn’t know how she should have answers for.

This reminds her of high school, of how they would text back and forth and then quickly meet up somewhere for more gossip, and somehow the thought of that makes a pang of melancholy shoot through her. Now, they meet barely twice a year, and she misses the way they were a tight-knit group back then. Yet there’s nothing she can do about it now, unless she’ll move all the way to China like her friends suggested, so she tries to drown the unwanted feelings by texting even more rapidly.

In her haste, she completely forgets the coffee.

NEXT

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asdfgnkj I probably missed some corrections but be gentle with me ok! ~~I’m posting this instead of grading exams so tomorrow shall be full of work and annoying anjsdkfgnh~~

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – High Maintenance - Chapter 7/10

rabenhorst — Wed, 01 Jan 2014 11:43:11 GMT

Title: High Maintenance; Chapter 7/10
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: Jonghyun, Onew, Zhou Mi, Boa, girl!Taemin (some are around more than others)
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 47 200 (overall); 4940 for this part
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: When Gwiboon's car breaks down she expects the repairs to be an annoying hassle. Not in her wildest dreams had she hoped for an illegally hot mechanic to be there to ease her hardships.
Comments: Happy new year! \o/
Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

If Minho had been asked, he would’ve said that Gwiboon’s parents probably live in one of the expensive skyscrapers in the middle of the city, or in some huge mansion still within the central area. Yet when he picks Gwiboon up and she gives him directions, turns out they’re heading way out of the city and onto the emptier side roads. “Your parents live here?” he asks, surprised, as they take yet another turn that leads them further away from the centre.

“No,” Gwiboon answers with a soft chuckle. “Or yes. They own three different houses and an apartment, but this one is where they host all the important parties. Most pompous one, you see. Even if it’s annoying to get to, everyone usually wants to go through the trouble for the chance of being included in the high society.” She explains it like one would explain a scientific fact, with no real emotion. The truth is, she doesn’t even know how she feels about it. This is the world she’s grown up in, yet she does see how ridiculous it is for people to fight tooth and nail to be part of something so …fake.

“Oh.” That is literally the only response Minho can give right now. Gwiboon’s parents must be richer than he thought and he did think rich, very rich.

Suddenly there’s a hand on his thigh, and when he glances at her she’s smiling at him. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry too much.”

That’s exactly what Jonghyun had tried to tell Minho for the better part of the evening, and yet now is the first moment when Minho feels himself properly relax. He’s still nervous, the anxious tingling left in the pit of his stomach, but at least he’s not so tense anymore. “You’re beautiful,” he replies, with utmost honesty. Her pale blue dress is shimmery and looks so good on her he just wants to stare shamelessly for the rest of eternity. Then again, she could wear anything and he’d still find her attractive.

The compliment makes Gwiboon huff. She pulls her hand back and straightens in her seat, but there’s a pleased smile tugging on her lips regardless. “Just focus on driving, Romeo. We don’t want to be late.”

They arrive early, but they aren’t the first ones there. As soon as they step out of the car Minho’s nervousness seems to double, but he tries to cover it up, casually placing his hand in the small of Gwiboon’s back to guide her towards the front door. There’s a man in a black suit at the door who gives them drinks, and whom Gwiboon greets warmly but doesn’t introduce, so Minho figures it must be one of the servants. He’s offered a glass of champagne and he’s grateful to have something in his hands, to feel less awkward.

Slowly they make their way further into the house, into a big reception hall, and Minho can barely stop himself from staring in sheer awe. The place is pompous. It’s luxurious, to the point of being almost glaringly obvious and skirting the line of good taste. Nothing like Gwiboon’s apartment, which does have quality furniture and designer items yes, but in a much more toned down way than this. It’s like being in a movie, some sort of a beggar who’s let into the big castle.

Finally, The Big Moment arrives. Gwiboon stops in front of a woman who clearly has her eyes, but otherwise looks nothing like her. “Mother,” Gwiboon greets, leaning in to fake a kiss on the older woman’s cheek. As soon as she pulls back she gestures towards Minho. “Meet Choi Minho. Minho, this is my mother.”

Automatically Minho’s instincts kick in and he offers a deep bow, followed by the most charming smile he can manage. “I’m honoured to meet you, Mrs Kim. You have a lovely home.”

He is completely ignored. Mrs Kim arches a perfectly trimmed eyebrow and looks at her daughter with clear distaste. “When you said you’d bring someone, I didn’t realize it was going to be one of your flings.” The way she says it makes it sound worse than any insult Minho has ever had to face, and he recoils slightly in surprise.

Gwiboon presses her lips to a thin line. “Mother.” That’s all she says, and her mother only shrugs a little, obviously agreeing that the discussion is over. She looks right past Minho, at another guest arriving, and a smile is instantly plastered on her face as she smoothly steps around him and goes to greet the newcomer.

“Wow,” Minho mutters under his breath. That didn’t go as expected. Of all the scenarios he played out in his head, this one wasn’t even on the list. Gwiboon still looks absolutely furious, but defiantly hooks her arm with Minho’s and pulls him forward. Meeting her father goes marginally better, as he actually acknowledges Minho and asks him a couple of generic questions, answers to which he obviously doesn’t even listen to. Yet he doesn’t say anything insulting, which feels like a huge relief at that point.

They migrate towards a big dining hall next, and Gwiboon is silent all the way, except for exchanging greetings with some people she recognizes. Minho focuses on staying close to her, and being as invisible and silent as he can possibly be. Just before they go sit at the table Gwiboon pulls him aside, looking up at him as she lowers her voice to a whisper. “It’ll get better, okay? I’m –”

She’s cut off by a cheerful sound of her name, and the next thing Minho knows Gwiboon is squealing and almost throwing herself at someone. At closer inspection it turns out to be an attractive man, around their age, with sparkling eyes and a smile that could melt the poles. They hug for what feels like an eternity, and serves to make Minho even more awkward than he was, but finally they detach from one another and the man turns to Minho.

At least he’s still smiling, it must be a good sign. “I’m Jinki! It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you!” Jinki greets Minho warmly, and it’s the first moment the whole evening when Minho feels like he’s looked at like he’s an actual person.

“I hope only good things,” he tries, grimacing a little at the awkward, old joke. It makes Jinki laugh, though, and that is all that’s needed to make the tension lessen. At that moment, Minho decides he likes this Jinki guy.

They don’t get the chance to talk more before they’re already guided to the table, and Minho thanks high heavens that he’s sitting next to Gwiboon and across the table from Jinki. At least like this he’ll have someone to talk to, instead of the whole dinner passing in painful silence. The bad side is that they’re sitting at the main table, and Gwiboon’s parents are only two seats away, and he suspects they’re not going to make this whole thing easy for him.

Not that it’s easy to begin with. Minho was right about his inability to use proper cutlery set out for them, and he would much rather be at his favourite local restaurant with normal homemade food and normal utensils and none of this fancy stuff. He tries to subtly keep his eyes on either Gwiboon or Jinki and imitate them, and it’s literally the only way he survives. Even though he googled this beforehand…

For the first half of the dinner he’s being completely ignored. For the second part of the dinner he’s being continuously insulted, in smaller or bigger ways, and always by Mrs Kim. Her husband stays silent, even if sometimes cracks a dry smile at one of her jabs. She never says anything downright hostile, but there’s something in the way she speaks that makes every word sound venomous.

The worst part, though, is when she begins insinuating that Jinki would be so much better match for Gwiboon. She keeps emphasizing how they’ve been friends for so long, how they’ve practically grown into being perfect spouses, and tells little stories meant to show how right she is. Almost everyone around them is humming in agreement, and if that doesn’t suck then Minho doesn’t know what would. The only thing that makes it better is how Gwiboon is obviously radiating tension and anger, and how Jinki seems to get as uneasy as Minho does, so Minho knows he’s not alone in this.

This is officially the worst birthday party he’s ever attended, he thinks bitterly as he takes his glass of water. And he can’t even drink to make it more bearable.

The end of the dinner brings at least some good to the situation, since Minho isn’t stuck right next to Gwiboon’s parents anymore. He follows Gwiboon and Jinki to the sparkly ballroom, where they settle right by one of the windows. The windowsill is wide enough to sit on and Minho is sort of tempted, but he resists since no one else seems to take advantage of the fact either. Absently he takes in the glorious garden outside, as the other two are laughing at some old joke over their drinks.

He only lands back to reality when Gwiboon nudges him slightly. “Hey,” she smiles softly. “I really need to go make a round and say hello to everyone I know. It’s not optional. Do you want to join me?” She asks it like there’d be an alternative and Minho tries his best to come up with a good excuse to pass that. He’s not really in the mood to be either gawked at or stared at disapprovingly by people he doesn’t even know.

Thankfully, Jinki turns out to be his saviour. “Hey Boonie, if you don’t mind, I’ll steal him away for a while. You’ve told me so much, but I still haven’t gotten to actually know him!” He smiles disarmingly, and it obviously works as Gwiboon just mirrors it, turning to look at Minho as if to ask if he’s okay with that. Eagerly, Minho tells her to go, to have fun, and that he’ll be fine with Jinki here.

He watches her go, and only when she disappears into the crowd he turns slightly towards Jinki again. “Thank you. I really don’t think I could’ve handled more rich people.”

“Hey,” Jinki chuckles merrily, and takes a slow sip from his glass. “I am a rich person. I could find that offensive.” Before Minho manages to try apologize or otherwise blather something unnecessary, Jinki waves his hand slightly. “I know what you mean. This is a world you’d need to grow into. It’s a role. I’ve spent all my life perfecting it, otherwise I’d be a total bumbling idiot here. So trust me, you’re doing fine.”

It does make Minho feel better, and he ducks his head down to hide the stubborn smile. “Thanks.” He inhales as deeply as he can, twisting his shoulders slightly in hopes of letting the tension off his muscles. “But I don’t think some people would agree with you. Gwiboon’s parents probably wouldn’t have wanted me here at all.”

Jinki huffs. “It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s only Mrs Kim and her stubborn ideas of getting me to marry her daughter one day.” He rolls his eyes, as if the thought is completely ridiculous – which Minho supposes it actually is. Jinki grins again, and even though it’s the same happy one from before, it has a touch of mirth in it. “Wanna know why?”

“You sound like it’s some really juicy gossip,” Minho laughs.

“It sort of is,” Jinki drawls, mysteriously, but then breaks into a short burst of laughter. “The thing is, my father almost married Gwiboon’s mother. I don’t know the details, I only know that she’s still somehow fixated on that, and my father doesn’t mind at all. Apparently, they had already spoken about engagement, but then my mother had gotten pregnant. And you know, you can’t lose your reputation in these circles so my father really had no other choice.”

Minho hums slowly, taking it all in. He doesn’t say anything though, having a feeling that Jinki isn’t done yet.

“My parents get along fine, so it worked out in the end. And for some reason, Mrs Kim doesn’t resent me but has this grand plan to make their children complete the union they lost.” Jinki smirks, obviously amused. “Doesn’t that sound like it’s straight from a drama? An old one, even. Destiny didn’t work out for them so the next generation must patch things up.”

“That…” Minho chuckles. “That doesn’t really make sense.”

Jinki laughs again, shaking his head. “No, it really doesn’t. But that’s how she sees it, unfortunately. Which has subjected me and Gwiboon to years of unsubtle hints about how amazing we would be together. I think I was five when I was first told that Gwiboon will make a beautiful wife to someone one day.”

That thought actually makes Minho shudder. It’s not like it’s an ideal situation to be stuck in. So maybe he should stop feeling sorry for himself, at least for a while. Although he still thinks that this night sucks. Majorly.

His frown must betray his thoughts since Jinki just claps his hand on Minho’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it too much. Her parents might hate you but she is head over heels for you. And she’s stubborn.” He smiles, honestly, and it’s obvious he means every word he says.

Turns out, Jinki is really good at distracting and he babbles on, tells funny random stories from work, shares little tidbits of knowledge about Gwiboon, elaborates on how they grew up together and are practically siblings by now. It’s nice, and ends way too soon as Jinki is dragged away by an older woman who says she has someone she wants to introduce to him. Jinki promises to be right back, giving a cheerful little wave.

From then on, it’s just Minho. He feels increasingly awkward as people give him curious looks, and he tries to just smile at them and hopes no one comes to talk to him. No such luck, though. He ends up exchanging a few words with Gwiboon’s aunt, who seems genuinely curious when she asks if he’s a hired escort. Then there’s some business advocate of the family, who asks him what company he works for and how much he makes a year. Each and every person who even says ‘hi’ manages to eventually make Minho feel like he’s completely out of his element.

Finally, Gwiboon re-appears, sneaking her arm back into Minho’s. “I’m sorry it took so long,” she smiles, obviously blissfully unaware of how much bottled tension is boiling right underneath his skin. “I met Jinki’s mother and I couldn’t ditch her. She hates these parties more than anyone I know.”

Except for me, Minho adds inwardly, but doesn’t say it out loud. He even holds back a sigh, and tries to return the smile. He’s quite sure he doesn’t succeed very well. “How long do we need to stay?” he asks, aiming for a casual tone. He’s not certain if that works out, either.

“I think we can find father right after the official part is over and try to sneak out,” Gwiboon answers with a small shrug. “He has the tendency to be always surrounded by people, though, so let’s see how it works out.”

Minho really, really hopes it works out. He would love to get out of here as soon as possible.

It’s dark by the time they finally manage to say their goodbyes. Mrs Kim sees them to the door, while her husband is still busy with the rest of the guests. She’s smiling, even if there’s nothing friendly in the thin mask of politeness when she offers a nod to Minho. That’s all he gets, before Mrs Kim pulls her daughter closer, patting her back in what’s probably supposed to pass for a hug. “Gwiboon,” she coos, holding on to Gwiboon’s elbows as she pulls back. “You should visit us more. Your father would appreciate seeing his only daughter.”

“Mother,” Gwiboon sighs. “We’ve been through this.” She looks so deeply uncomfortable that for a second Minho considers saying something to break the moment, but he doesn’t get the chance before Gwiboon sighs again. “Fine. I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Mrs Kim says, finally releasing her grip. Her smile seems wider now, her whole demeanour more relaxed. “You should bring Jinki, too. After all, he is practically family.” That’s an innocent enough remark on its own. What follows is what makes both Gwiboon and Minho tense. “Although, Gwiboon, you do remember he could be family officially, too.”

Gwiboon freezes. She looks stormy as she raises her chin, glaring at her mother with the anger that seems ready to burst out. “I will pretend you didn’t say that.”

She turns to leave, catching Minho’s wrist to tug him along. As if he wasn’t ready to flee the place the first possible chance. It’s still raining, and if he was alone he’d make a mad dash for the car but he doesn’t really trust Gwiboon to run in the killer heels. So instead he shrugs off his suit jacket and wraps it around Gwiboon’s shoulders to shield her and her expensive dress.

Even if it’s only a few droplets that manage to catch them on their way, Gwiboon is quick to dig through her purse for a mirror to see what damage it’s done to her impeccable hairdo and makeup. She rubs her middle finger under her eye to get rid of a smudge of mascara, while Minho silently starts the car. They’ll have a long drive ahead of them, across the winding countryside roads that are basically empty at this hour.

The radio host’s voice fills the small space, but Minho isn’t paying it any attention. His thoughts are still on the exchange they went through at the door, and he can’t help but be bothered by it. It’s like the cherry on top of the disaster this whole evening turned out to be. There hadn’t been any illusions on it ever having a chance to go brilliantly, but he would’ve still hoped for at least a slightly better outcome.

The thing is, the more time he spends with Gwiboon the more convinced he is that’s what he wants to keep doing. He’s had his fair share of crushes before, he’s been infatuated by beautiful girls and he’s even been in love, he thinks. But Gwiboon is the first girl that makes him feel he can be completely himself with her. He doesn’t need to play pretend, he doesn’t need to constantly work to be something he’s not. Ever since they first met, he’d been charmed by the easy way she didn’t take any of his bullshit but didn’t assume he’d take any from her, either.

He knows he’s falling. He’s already fallen quite a bit of the way.

Yet Gwiboon’s parents obviously don’t want him in her life. They’d want him to be the perfect son-in-law, to fit comfortably into the mould they’ve prepared for a person they’d accept into the family. He can’t be that person, and he doesn’t want to be that person. But he doesn’t know how highly Gwiboon appreciates the opinion of her parents. If they want him out, will she send him packing, eventually?

“Minho,” Gwiboon breaks the silence, places her hand softly on Minho’s thigh. “Stop fretting. It went fine.”

“No it didn’t,” Minho bites back before he can stop himself. He’s never in his life felt so out of place anywhere but during that dinner, and if it hadn’t been for Gwiboon and for Jinki’s friendly attempts at chatting, he would’ve probably died of sheer embarrassment comparing himself to everyone around him. He felt like a bull in a china shop. “Your mother doesn’t think it went fine.”

“She didn’t mean anything by it.” Gwiboon shakes her head at how meek it sounds, knowing it’s a lame counterargument. She doesn’t expect it to make Minho’s temper snap completely, though.

“She meant everything by it,” he spits, “and you know that. Besides she’s right! I can’t do this!”

For a second, Minho isn’t paying attention and almost loses control over the car. It’s raining so heavily the tires start aquaplaning and for one terrifying moment it seems that they’re going to swerve right out of the road. Only by sheer luck he manages to get back on the asphalt properly, his heart pumping a million miles an hour. He hits the brakes, a little too harshly, and parks the car by the roadside.

Gwiboon looks pale as chalk. She is squeezing the seat tight, her whole posture rigid as she stares at Minho. “What was that?” she asks, timidly, forcing the words out past the lump in her throat.

That is when it hits Minho. They could’ve ended up smashed against the nearest tree as easily as they managed to get parked safely. They could’ve died. And it would’ve been because of his temper, and how he lost it over something so stupid. “I can’t do this. I can’t,” he repeats, fumbling to unbuckle the seatbelt.

Then he’s already out of the car.

The rain is harsh, like it’s giving him the beating of his life, and he’s soaked right to the bone within seconds. After the few angry steps he takes along the road, back towards the direction they came from, he slows down until he’s only walking briskly instead of running. Nevertheless, his thoughts keep on racing, there’s no stopping them.

He doesn’t hear the sound of heels clacking on asphalt at first, neither does he hear the voice shouting his name out loud. It’s only when a hand lands on his shoulder that he stops, spins around to be face to face with equally as drenched Gwiboon.

The first thing she does is slap him. Hard. Not at all like it looks like in the movies, but in a way that probably hurts as much as if she’d straight out punched him in the face. “That,” she yells to get her voice carry over the rushing of the water, “was for running away like a fucking idiot!”

Then, she grabs the front of his dress shirt – now probably ruined beyond repair – and yanks him close until she can crash their mouths together. The kiss is hot, in contrast to the freezing rain pouring over them, and Gwiboon’s fingers are insistent in Minho’s hair until he wraps his arms around her to pull her against his chest.

When they finally break apart, Gwiboon takes a deep breath, her voice considerably calmer than before. “That,” she admits, looking at Minho through long lashes heavy with raindrops, “was an apology.”

“I’m serious, Gwiboon,” Minho says. He reaches out to brush a hopelessly wet strand of hair from her face, even if it stubbornly falls right back on its original place. “The dinner was an epic disaster. And your mother is right. I don’t fit in your world. I’m not good at fancy dinners. There were at least seven goddamn forks in there what am I supposed to do with them? I’m not good at etiquette and meeting parents and polite chitchat with the guests.” He pauses. “I’m not Jinki.”

“You don’t need to be!” Gwiboon underlines the words by smacking her closed fist into Minho’s chest, even if only lightly. “My parents live in a fantasy world where they see me and Jinki marry and have a dozen beautiful babies but that’s not going to happen. He doesn’t want it, and I don’t want it. You have to ignore what they say!”

Maybe she’s right. Minho feels awkward regardless of that, though, as if he’s interfering where it’s not his place to mix. “I’m still not cut out for your world. You’ve said it yourself.”

“Then we’ll make our own world, for fuck’s sake! They can’t rule our lives for us!” Gwiboon throws her hands up in frustration, but then grabs Minho’s shirt again, allows her palms to slide down his shoulder blades. “Don’t push me away, Minho. You might not be what my parents want. But you’re what I want.”

She seems completely sincere and Minho can’t help but melt. He smiles, albeit a little tiredly, and scoops her up until she can wrap her legs around his waist. “Let’s get back into the car, okay.” It isn’t that far, the bright red backlights of the car glaring at them from few paces away, so he carries her back, and sets her down right next to the passenger side door.

By the time they’re back inside the vehicle, Gwiboon’s dress is nearly see-through and the neckline is stretched so low it’s almost obscene. She doesn’t do anything to fix it, though, only carefully discards Minho’s suit jacket to the backseat and out of the harm’s way. She sits up straight and arches an eyebrow at Minho, who is looking equally miserable in his drenched state. “I am so glad we took your car.”

It makes Minho laugh, allowing the last of the tension to drain off him.

They go back to Minho’s apartment, and Minho lets Gwiboon have the shower first. He makes tea, enough for a small army, and hopes that together with a steaming hot shower it’ll make them both warm again. She rewards him with a quick kiss as they switch turns, and by the time he’s spent a small eternity underneath the water spray he’s actually starting to feel human again. He wraps himself in a fluffy bathrobe, distantly amused by the fact that Gwiboon had insisted they get a matching set just days prior. Sometimes it’s like they’re already living like a boring married couple.

When Minho makes his way to the living room Gwiboon is curled up on the couch, in her own bathrobe and even with a blanket pulled on her lap, a cup of tea cradled carefully in her palms. He pads closer, thanking every higher power he can think of that the blanket is big enough for him to sneak under as well. His legs are almost too long, but Gwiboon shifts a bit until they’re both sitting snugly under the warm layer of fleece.

Silently Gwiboon takes a sip of tea, before offering the cup to Minho, who gratefully accepts. Neither of them says a single word before the tea is long gone, the cup set on the coffee table in front of them. Besides the sound of rain thrumming on the windows, as if trying to break in, there’s only silence. Minho feels incredibly tired all of a sudden, and leans in to rest his head on Gwiboon’s shoulder.

“We should probably talk,” Gwiboon begins softly, running her fingers down the side of his face. “About today.” There’s no answer, at least not soon enough to her liking, so she goes on. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have forced you to go if I’d known they’d react that badly. They… It’s never been that bad.”

Minho hums, blinks his eyes and tries to shake the tiredness. He doesn’t want to move from his place, though, not while he’s so incredibly comfortable even when curled up so awkwardly. “It’s okay,” he mumbles, absently.

“No, Minho,” she sighs, prodding his forehead to demand his attention. “It’s not okay. None of it is okay. And I need you to know that nothing they say can change this, okay?” When he opens his eyes, she leans in and connects their lips in a soft, chaste kiss. “I love you, okay. I’m not in this only for your gorgeous body.”

That makes Minho laugh and he straightens a bit, to be able to better look her in the eye. “You’re not?”

“No, stupid,” Gwiboon huffs. There’s a grin tugging on her lips, and she pats his cheek. “No. Although I have to admit, it does help.” Playfully, she squirms until he leans back enough to let her slip away from underneath the blanket. She pads into the kitchen, returning only a moment later with a fresh cup of hot tea.

They share the second cup like they did the first, in comfortable silence. It feels like something heavy has been lifted off them, like some invisible barrier in the air has been broken. Yet they’re both so tired after the long, stressful day that they retreat to bed soon after. Gwiboon complains she’s still cold and snuggles closer to Minho’s side, tucking her admittedly icy nose against his shoulder and her feet between his calves.

She falls asleep almost immediately, but Minho lingers for a bit longer. He listens to the soft huffs of her breathing, focuses on the slow rise and fall of her chest, until he’s already on the verge of the dreamland.

That’s when something hits him.

I love you, okay.

He realizes it’s the first time she’s said it out loud. And that he didn’t return the sentiment. He knows he’ll get his chance later, plenty of times, and thus it only makes him grin like an idiot. Even the party, all the insults and the condescending looks he got, it’s all worth it if this is what’s waiting for him at the end of the day.

Gently, he pulls Gwiboon closer, and shifts to a more comfortable position that still leaves them tangled together. He falls asleep with a smile still stuck on his lips.

Next Chapter

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fun fact; the scene in the rain is the first one I wrote for the whole story~

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – High Maintenance - Chapter 6/10

rabenhorst — Sun, 22 Dec 2013 15:40:12 GMT

Title: High Maintenance; Chapter 6/10
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: Jonghyun, Onew, Zhou Mi, Boa, girl!Taemin (some are around more than others)
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 47 200 (overall); 4525 for this part
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: When Gwiboon's car breaks down she expects the repairs to be an annoying hassle. Not in her wildest dreams had she hoped for an illegally hot mechanic to be there to ease her hardships.
Comments: Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

There is something that clearly results from meeting Minho’s parents though, and it sends Gwiboon into a slight crisis. She barricades herself on Jinki’s couch the following Saturday evening, with a huge tub of ice cream, just because she knows he enjoys stealing a spoonful or two from her every now and then during their so called serious talks. Which more often than not is random complaining about everyday life, but hey, it feels much more gratifying to call it something different.

What she enjoys the most is when she gets to drop bombs in the middle of Jinki stuffing a gigantic spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. Every time she has something shocking to tell him, she waits until the perfect moment and then watches him try to cough up little bits of the cold mass from his lungs. That’s exactly what she does this time, too, even though there’s this certain excited tingling in the pit of her stomach that she doesn’t remember feeling in …forever.

“I’m in love.” It feels weird saying the words and she almost forgets to look for Jinki’s reaction, only focused on how she gets oddly giddy when acknowledging it out loud.

Which is good since the reaction never comes. Jinki only swallows, scoops up another spoonful, and gives a calm shrug. “Of course you are.”

“Lee Jinki!” Gwiboon actually drops the tub of mint and chocolate chip ice cream, and if it wasn’t for Jinki’s surprisingly good catching skills it would end up on the floor. It doesn’t, though, and Jinki goes on happily devouring the sweet treat, while Gwiboon gapes at him. “What do you mean of course you are? This is an epiphany! It’s a realization! It’s something I’ve thought about long and hard!”

“I could make a joke about that last bit,” Jinki winks, “but I’m going to spare you.” He doesn’t turn even the slightest bit more serious, his eyes sparkling as he looks at her amusedly. “C’mon Gwiboon, you can’t be this daft. You’ve been head over heels for the guy for weeks now. It’s not news to anyone who’s seen you two as much as look at each other. You’re disgusting, really, come to think of it.”

“Stop that.” Gwiboon frowns and pulls the fluffy blanket off the backrest of the couch, wrapping it around herself as she pulls her legs close to her chest. “I thought it was a new revelation, honestly. Like,” she sighs, “I don’t do this whole falling in love thing. It’s hard enough to even date with parents like mine, and this makes it just… a million times harder.”

“I can still cover for you, you know that,” Jinki offers, even though he barely spares her a glance.

“I know.” Gwiboon nods. She really does know. But yet at the same time, she doesn’t want that anymore. This thing with Minho feels much more serious than she’d ever expected for it to be, and she decides it’s about time she acts like an adult about it. “But you don’t need to. I’m… I’m going to take him to dad’s birthday party next month.”

At that, she gains the reaction she initially expected for her big revelation. Jinki almost chokes, only recovering when she pats his back hard with her palm for a while. Sputtering, he straightens, looking honestly confused. “You’re going to bring him to the formal dinner? Gwiboon, that’s about as serious as announcing you’re engaged.”

“I know,” she shrugs a bit and this time, the pleasantly nervous tingles turn into a little more severe anxiousness. “But c’mon. I’ve met his parents. They’re asking him about grandbabies, for god’s sake! And I might not be ready to blow up and look like I swallowed a beach ball, or even get married, but I …I really am in love,” she pauses, offering a van smile. “I really want to make actual effort, you know? I want my parents to know he’s a part of my life now, and might be for a long time.”

“You do realize this is the first boyfriend you’ve brought home since you were still underage,” Jinki asks. He’s grinning though, in a way that is incredibly infectious and she can’t help but return it. “Your parents didn’t really give that poor boy a great welcome, from what I can remember.”

“Yeah they didn’t,” Gwiboon laughs. “But Minho is an adult. He can handle a few icy stares and degrading comments. I don’t think it’ll scare him off. I mean, I heard the word babies and am not running yet so he’d better be as chill as I am about this.”

“You are being uncharacteristically calm about that, I got to admit.” Jinki joins the laughter. “Just wait. Soon he’ll knock you up and you won’t even mind.”

At that, he receives the cruellest punishment of them all: what’s left of the tub of half-melted ice cream dumped right on top of his head. His shriek is anything but manly.

“What are you brooding about?” Gwiboon whispers, sliding an arm around Minho’s shoulders as she sits down precariously on the armrest of his chair. Automatically his arm finds its way around her waist to keep her balanced. It earns him a quick kiss in the corner of his mouth, and it does ease his frown a little bit.

He sighs, puts his pen on the table and runs his fingers through his hair. It stands up in every possible direction, and Gwiboon can’t help but pat it down a little bit, as adorable as it is. “I don’t have enough time,” Minho says at length, “I can’t keep running the garage like this. I need to do all of the bookkeeping, Jjong had to cut his hours again and the cars won’t fix themselves.” He closes his eyes, sighing a little.

“Can’t you hire someone else to work with the cars? Or hire a secretary?” Gwiboon asks, idly toying with a strand of Minho’s dark hair. “You wouldn’t need to work twelve hour days then.”

“I can’t afford it,” Minho confesses. “If I could get the business perk up a bit I might be able to hire another mechanic, or a secretary, but not both. And I think we’d need both.” He leans back in his seat, sighing contently when she begins to slowly massage his scalp.

There’s brief silence, before Gwiboon taps Minho’s head to gain his attention. “I could do it. The bookkeeping, I mean. Not the cars, please don’t make me fix the cars if you want anything to work afterwards.”

Minho’s eyes fly wide in surprise. “What? You?”

“Yes,” Gwiboon says and rolls her eyes, “me. I’m in business school, idiot. I am going to have a degree in seven months from now. And most of us end up as secretaries anyway. I’d rather do it for a business I actually am sort of invested in already.”

At first, Minho seems to brighten up, but then sighs and closes off again, resigned. “I… I really appreciate the thought, Gwiboon, but I can’t. I can’t afford to pay you right now.”

“Who says you need to pay me?” she asks. “C’mon. I’m not offering because I’m short on cash. I want to help you. And don’t–” He tries to interrupt her, but she raises her voice and shuts him up with a finger to his lips. “Don’t even try to argue. I’ll start working first thing tomorrow, and you’ll start paying me once we’ve managed to get the business running. Okay?”

It’s a question, but it doesn’t really leave many options for answers. Minho knows he’ll have to agree, unless he wants to listen to her go on about it until he does. Then again, it’s not like he even wants to say no. He’d feel a lot better if he could pay her, straight from the beginning, but he is determined to pay his debts eventually. The thought is getting more and more appealing the longer he thinks of it, and he doesn’t even try to fight the smile that spreads on his face.

“I take it that the moronic grin means ‘yes please Gwiboon, the light of my life, save me from this rut’. Am I wrong?” Gwiboon loses the sarcastic tone of voice somewhere halfway through imitating Minho’s voice, and bursts into laughter as he genuinely looks a little too happy about the thought. “Seriously, I know I’m saving your gorgeous ass, but why are you that excited about it?”

“Because,” Minho drops his voice low, the exact tone he knows will make her shudder. He uses both of his arms to pull her properly on his lap, facing him, and scrapes his teeth down the side of her neck. She follows the movement willingly, getting herself comfortable, and only after a slow kiss Minho goes on with his explanation. “What kind of a man wouldn’t dream of having a smoking hot secretary?”

Gwiboon laughs. “I hope you’re not under the illusion that we’ll have dirty sex on the desk every time you just happen to feel like it. I need to get some work done too, remember?” She says that, but inwardly already plans on what to wear to get the strongest reaction out of Minho. A pencil skirt and high heels can work miracles, and she knows she can pull off the sexy secretary look better than any porn star could.

“You can work while I bend you over the desk,” Minho replies, cockily. It should earn him a slap, but instead he gains another slow, sloppy kiss. Neither of them can stop grinning, or kissing, and it seems that a not a lot of work will be done that evening.

The idea actually turns out to be as brilliant as it seemed. Gwiboon still has to attend her classes but she finds enough free time to work at the garage and keep everything in order. Having actual knowledge of how to do things helps, so she’s a lot faster than Minho who only had what little experience had taught him. Gwiboon can’t help but think what a good team they make, in every possible way, and she’s not sure if she should be slightly worried about how giddy it makes her.

She hasn’t met Minho’s parents after the dinner, but somehow Minho’s mother has ended up with her phone number since she contacts her every now and then. She’s only called Gwiboon twice, to ask how she’s doing, but she keeps texting her randomly at times, and somehow always manages to make Gwiboon smile. It’s not intrusive, Mrs Choi made sure to ask if it’s alright the first time she called, and Gwiboon didn’t really find it in herself to say no.

Gwiboon is beginning to feel she has more of a connection with Minho’s mother than her own, a thought that sort of terrifies her. She hasn’t met her own parents in months, the only contact being the constant pressuring phone calls from them.

She really needs time off to recover from that so she spends an evening holed up in her apartment. She’d go to Jinki’s but he’s been increasingly busy with his new mysterious boyfriend, so he’s not around. So she camps on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and her laptop balanced on her knees, as she keeps pestering all of her friends with random messages. It’s amusing, and whenever she gets a reaction out of one of them it manages to make her relax a little more. She knows it’s no use getting so worked up over her parents and their expectations, but she needs to unwind and forget them at times.

Suddenly, Skype gives an alert for someone signing in, and before Gwiboon has time to even properly process that there’s already an incoming call. She accepts, and a window with Boa’s face pops up. She’s grinning and waves at Gwiboon, looking impeccable and ready to go out, instead of sitting at home at a computer. “Hey! I’ve only got an hour, but we haven’t talked in ages! And I know you, you only harass everyone with random photos when you’re upset. So,” she shrugs, “what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Gwiboon sighs defiantly. She crosses her arms, but only for a second as she knows it’ll just make her look like a petulant child. “It’s the usual parent-drama. They want me to marry Jinki and stop being a pain in their asses and get a degree and work in the family business. None of which will ever happen.” She gives the short summary, knowing they’ve been over this enough times.

Immediately Boa’s chirpy expression melts into a concerned one, and she leans a bit closer to her computer screen. “Oh honey, is it getting worse?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Gwiboon admits with a frown. She briefly considers ranting about the latest lectures she’d gotten from her father, but then decides against it. Instead, she blurts out what’s been on her mind ever since she told Jinki about it. “It’s dad’s birthday next week. And I’m going to bring Minho.”

Everyone knows that Mr Kim’s birthday is the event of the year. It’s where only his most important business associates and his family are invited, so it’s in no way a small scale thing. Which is one of the reasons Boa is actually stunned into silence for a moment. “Whoa. Wow, Boonie, are you sure you want to put him through that?”

“It’s only fair!” Gwiboon insists. She’s made up her mind about this, long ago. “I’ve met his parents and he’s included me in his life in every way possible. He hasn’t even met any of my friends, nor my parents, and I… I just want him to know I’m serious okay. And what could be more serious than bringing him to meet my parents?”

Boa snorts. “Well, considering they’re your parents it’s pretty much the best sign of devotion you can give. I mean, no offense, but they’re not exactly welcoming. It won’t be a walk in the park.”

“I just hope they won’t disown me on the spot, too.” Gwiboon laughs. She didn’t even know she could sound that bitter.

“C’mon! It’ll be fine!” Boa switches back to her cheery self like it’s nothing, but that’s something so her that it serves to calm Gwiboon down considerably. “Besides, if they do, you have a secure job offer right here,” she goes on. “Bring Minho, too, I’m sure he’d make a fabulous model! At least the photos you showed had both me and Zhou Mi drooling.”

It sounds like a joke, and for the most part it is, but there’s a hint of seriousness in it too and Gwiboon knows she’d be welcome there. She also knows she might even take up on the offer, if it wasn’t for her studies, for Jinki and for Minho keeping her here. She feels like she’s gained at least some semblance of control over her life now, and she doesn’t think she’s ready to abandon everything and fly off to China. With or without Minho.

Yet, she chuckles and nods. “Yeah, I guess so. Look, don’t let me keep you from …wherever you’re going. I’ll call you soon, okay?” They exchange their goodbyes, along with a few quick pieces of juicy gossip on Boa’s end, before cutting the call.

Gwiboon spends the rest of the evening dozing off on the couch. She’s not able to completely shake off the nervousness, but she’s determined. Minho deserves to be included in her life in all the ways she can offer, and this is a big step for her. She just hopes it’ll go better than she suspects it will.

It still takes two days for Gwiboon to collect enough courage to actually suggest Minho that he’d attend the birthday party. She knows everyone is supposed to bring a date, so she only tells her mother she’s bringing someone and refuses to elaborate on that. Usually she used to just go with Jinki, as neither of them has really wanted to bring their current significant other to the formal dinner before.

This time, it’s going to be different. And Gwiboon wishes with all her heart that her parents will have the decency to act at least polite around Minho, regardless of what they think of him. Even if she already knows they will disapprove, she hopes she can somehow manage to turn their minds, make them see how charming Minho can actually be.

When Gwiboon lets herself inside Minho’s apartment, she immediately drops her bag and kicks off her shoes by the door, with enough clatter that she’s certain her presence has been noted. That’s nothing out of the ordinary for them. There’s a delicious scent wafting from the kitchen that lures her in, making her stomach grumble and protest the lack of nutrition it’s been put through.

She heads straight towards the promise of food, and when she spots Minho by the stove her heart does a little happy flip in her chest. She sneaks behind Minho, wraps her arms around him and rises on her tiptoes to press her nose against the nape of his neck. “Good evening,” she murmurs, “what are you cooking?”

“It’s just soup,” Minho says. The smile is audible in his voice, though, and he even leans back a little bit to get closer. “I didn’t know when you’d be in and I figured it’s easiest to heat up. But your timing is perfect.”

“I’m in heaven!” Gwiboon announces and squeezes Minho tighter, before releasing him to go find the bowls in the cupboards. “You wouldn’t believe how badly we’d starve if I was the one to do the cooking. God I hate it and I fail at it more often than not.” She’s exaggerating, as she does know how to feed herself if needed, but she only knows how to cook simple edible stuff and Minho happens to be marginally better. Yet she makes a show out of it, to ensure that she doesn’t need to spend any more time in the kitchen than she absolutely has to.

“Stop that,” Minho orders, but there’s a sort of an embarrassed flush rising on his cheeks and in the back of his neck. “You know that what I make is just decent, I’m not a gourmet chef.”

“No, you’re not,” she readily agrees, and already takes a seat at the table as he brings the soup over, beginning to fill their bowls. “But you could be. Honestly, you actually like it, and you already are better than me so you could be brilliant if you wanted to.”

Minho only hums, before sitting down and attending his food. It’s silent as they both are way too hungry to focus on anything else than filling their stomachs right now, and only after they’re halfway through the meal Gwiboon speaks up again. “There’s this dinner next week,” she starts, slowly, as she doesn’t really know how to bring the topic up properly, “and I was hoping you’d accompany me.”

“What kind of a dinner is it?” he asks, already suspicious.

Gwiboon decides to just get it all out in one go. “It’s my father’s birthday party. I don’t know if you’ve heard but it’s pretty much where all the fancy people gather every year for an extremely exquisite but boring dinner, and to be invited is an honour some people would be ready to murder for.” Okay maybe she’s exaggerating a little, again, but the general idea still stands true. “I’m not going to lie to you, it will be the longest evening of your life, and the food will be good but the company not so much. But…”

She looks up, and he’s paused eating as well, only looking back at her expectantly. “I would like for you to meet my parents,” she finishes quickly, offering him a van smile.

“Gwiboon,” Minho sighs, biting his lower lip as he considers the reply. “If you want me to, I’ll meet your parents, of course I will. But are you sure you want to do that at a fancy dinner? You know I can’t do those things. I’ve never even been to a fancy restaurant, and definitely never attended a party where I’m supposed to know a salad fork from a regular one.”

“Look, I don’t meet them very much.” Gwiboon shrugs. “We’re not as close as your family is. They only like me when they can show me off to their so-called-friends and brag about how our family is better than theirs. And in the birthday party, they’d be forced to socialize, if we invite them for a dinner somewhere their focus will be solely on you. And trust me, it’s better.”

Minho looks down at his hands, twisting his fingers for a moment. He takes his time to reply, and when he does his voice is silent. “You’re already sure they’ll hate me?”

“Oh, Minho,” she hurries to reply. “It’s not you, really.” She reaches out to place her hands on his, giving them a small squeeze. “They’d be disappointed no matter who I brought home, unless it was Jinki or the heir of some successful and filthy rich family. Their standards are ridiculous.”

“Why do you want to bring me there?” He asks, but finally looks up at her. “If you already know it’ll only cause troubles.”

“Because I have a good feeling about this,” she smiles, “about us. And if I want to stick with you, they should know. And hey,” she fakes a chirpy tone, although she’s not quite as positive as she wants to appear, “maybe they’ll surprise me, or you’ll charm them off their feet. Who knows, right?”

“Yeah,” he laughs, dryly, “who knows.”

“Minho,” Gwiboon tries to plead once more. “Your mom sends me pictures of cute dogs she sees on the streets. Even your dad texted me once. Your family accepted me the moment you introduced me to them. I can’t promise you the same, but I want to do this. I want to show my parents you’re important to me.”

That, finally, makes him smile genuinely. He turns his hands around to be able to grab Gwiboon’s and twine their fingers together. “Alright. I’ll go with you.”

Gwiboon returns the smile. “Thank you.”

Days go by alarmingly fast and before Minho even knows it’s already the day of Gwiboon’s father’s birthday party. He closes the garage early that day, and asks Jonghyun over with the excuse of helping him to look as presentable as possible. The truth is, though, he is nervous. He is really nervous and he just wants to have some distraction, so the task naturally falls on his best friend.

After their visit to the opera, Gwiboon had kept her word and had indeed bought three fitted suits for Minho. One of them charcoal black, one a dark blue and one lighter grey. They’d been called something like shimmering sapphire and pearly in the store but honestly, Minho had just rolled his eyes on those descriptions. He tries on each one of them, in order, and makes Jonghyun tell him which one he should wear.

“Honestly,” Jonghyun yawns from the couch, looking like he’s about to fall asleep, even with the bottle of beer dangling from his fingers. “It’s not a funeral. You should wear the blue one. You’re overthinking this anyway! I don’t get why you’re so nervous about a dinner.”

“It’s not just a dinner,” Minho insists, but carefully slips out of the grey suit jacket anyway and hangs it up. “I’m meeting her parents. I need to impress them and I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy.” He chews on his lower lip, a nervous habit he can’t shake, and sets on getting dressed again.

“Parents are like that,” Jonghyun shrugs. “Taeyeon’s parents hated me too. They said I was bad influence on her.” He’s grinning as he thinks back on it and they both know he was bad influence. Not that Taeyeon wasn’t potentially worse. Besides, Jonghyun gets along with Taeyeon’s parents perfectly fine nowadays.

Minho can’t hold back a light chuckle. He shakes his head. “You were sixteen, Jjong. This is not the same. And they disapproved of you because you skipped class like a pro and they thought you’d bring their daughter’s academic career down. This is different. They will disapprove the moment they hear what I do for a living, just because I’m not some big company hotshot.”

“Does it matter so much?” Jonghyun scrunches up his face at the tie Minho grabs and shakes his head. Without commenting on that he sets his beer down and gets up with a sigh, snatching the tie away from his friend to pick him another one. “Honestly. She won’t dump you if her parents dislike you. Why would she?”

That makes Minho fall silent, and it takes him a good while to respond. Even then, he’s got this almost constipated look on his face, and he refuses to look straight at Jonghyun. “She might.”

“What do you mean ‘she might’?” Jonghyun frowns. “You’re making no sense. I thought you two were doing well!”

“We are! But.” Minho pauses. “But her parents pay for… everything she has. She’s still studying and doesn’t have a job. And she’s so used to financial stability, which I can’t guarantee for her. Or I can,” he snorts humourlessly, “but it’ll be a steady low income that wouldn’t pay for her designer stuff.” He knows that Gwiboon cares about him, and it already stopped being casual a long time ago. Yet he also knows how attached Gwiboon is to her lifestyle, and even if she has enjoyed some of the poor-people-things Minho has showed her, she probably wouldn’t want to give up on her wealth.

Or maybe Minho is overthinking things. Again. Yet he can’t shut his brains up.

“Hey,” Jonghyun tries to be as encouraging as he can. He tightens Minho’s tie, before patting him on the shoulder. “Stop being so negative about everything. Maybe you’ll just charm them all off their feet. Or maybe she doesn’t care either way. C’mon, it’s not like you to give up! You’re usually the bullhead that doesn’t stop even when defeat seems inevitable. Where did that side go!?”

It might not be the most conventional prep speech but it works, and Minho can’t help but grin at his friend. “It’s still right here, I promise. I’m going to go there and show them what I’m made of.”

“That’s my man!” Jonghyun praises, even giving a round of applause. “Go and fight for your girl.”

“I just,” Minho begins, his expression turning softer, “I really think she might be the one, you know?” Sappy as it sounds, there hasn’t been anyone before who would’ve made him feel like he now does. Never before has he been able to imagine a future with someone as easily as he now can. And if that doesn’t make her special, he has no idea what would.

Jonghyun beams. “See? Everything will work out perfectly!”

Chapter 7

check the masterlist for more fic! | follow me on tumblr~ | add this journal for updates

I’m so sorry it took me so long to update :( I’ve been sick, busy and tired, so it hasn’t really been a good combination. I’ll try to be faster with the next part!

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – Instant Replay

rabenhorst — Sat, 14 Dec 2013 19:51:07 GMT

Title: Instant Replay
Author: fonulyn
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Minho/Key, slight!Jonghyun/Taemin
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 2758
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: It’s the best night of Kibum’s life. Deal with it.
Comments: My take at a drabble. You can see I’m not very good at keeping them drabbles either. Written for the prompt “uniform”.

“I still think this is the stupidest fucking idea you’ve had,” Kibum announces as he plops down on the plush couch next to his best friend. He’s been dancing for so long that his muscles are beginning to ache, and he urgently needs something to drink, so he reaches out for Jonghyun’s drink to shamelessly steal it. Jonghyun doesn’t complain, not even when Key plucks out the pink umbrella from the drink and throws it aside, before downing half of the contents of the glass in one go.

Curious about the lack of response, Kibum follows Jonghyun’s gaze to the dance floor, right where he was just seconds ago grinding against Taemin as they had their own private show-off. Turns out Taemin hasn’t run out of energy still, and of course Jonghyun can’t tear his eyes off him. Kibum scoffs, eagerly gulping down the rest of Jonghyun’s drink. It’s so fruity it doesn’t even taste like alcohol, although Kibum has a sneaking suspicion he will be proven wrong later.

Finally, he pokes Jonghyun’s side to gain his attention. “Did you hear me?”

Jonghyun turns to look at him, arching an eyebrow questioningly. “Yeah I heard you. Stupid idea blah blah?” He only now notices the lack of anything to drink, but doesn’t comment on it. He must know what happened, he’s been friends with Kibum for long enough. “I don’t get why you think it’s a bad idea, though. It’s not like everyone isn’t having tons of fun.”

“It’s your bachelor party, Jjong!” Kibum announces, pained by how slow his friend is. “And it’s also Taemin’s. You’re not supposed to have it together, for god’s sake, you’re going to get married in a few days and the bride and the groom just don’t have a bachelor party together.”

“Why not?” Jonghyun asks, his eyes again turning to sneak a glance at Taemin, while his lips stretch to a moronic grin. “We have the same friends anyway, what’s wrong with killing two birds with one stone?”

“It’s just not done. It’s… against laws of nature,” Kibum huffs. He has to admit though, he’s had fun for the whole evening. They have so many friends and acquaintances that showed up for the party that the whole club is basically reserved for only them. There’s also supposed to be some special shows later on, although Kibum isn’t sure if there’ll be anything that’d interest him.

Jonghyun has the balls to just laugh. He claps Kibum’s shoulder, before heaving himself up from the couch. “You’re just jealous because you haven’t gotten any in a decade. While I am getting married, to the love of my life.” He sings the last part of the sentence, along to the melody of some popular trot song Kibum is sure he should recognize but can’t be arsed to focus on right now.

He watches as Jonghyun goes to join Taemin on the dance floor, briefly considers finding Jinki and forcing him to dance, and then eventually just sinks further into the plush cushions to have a short break. The evening is still young, he can’t wear himself out before time.

Besides, he has a feeling the fruity drink was indeed stronger than he expected it to be.

Eventually Kibum decides to venture towards the bar to have himself something more to drink, and maybe some water so he won’t lose all recollection of the evening afterwards. Maybe he has been in a slightly sour mood since all of his friends seem to be so happy in their relationships and he’s constantly only falling for jerks that end up doing more bad than good in the end. He swears he’ll be more positive from now on, not to ruin the party for his soon-to-be-married friends. Although, he’s quite sure absolutely nothing could ruin the evening for them.

Finally Kibum gets his drink and a bottle or water, and starts making his way through the crowd towards his previous seat. On his way he practically runs into Taemin, though, who instantly grabs his arm in a tight grip. “Oh, hyung, I’m so glad I found you! I’ve been trying to track you down. C’mon, the show is about to start!”

“I can watch it from there, too,” Kibum tries, but Taemin is insistent and drags him all the way to the stage that is currently decorated by loads of confetti and sparkly lights.

“No, you really want to watch it from here, trust me.”

As soon as they park themselves right next to the stage, Jonghyun appears right out of nowhere, handing out one of those colourful drinks to Taemin and keeping one for himself. He’s wearing that shit-eating grin that always shows that something is up, and it instantly makes Kibum suspicious. “I’m not sure I like where this is going… Your special show isn’t anything to embarrass me, is it? I am not getting up on that stage!”

“Don’t worry,” Taemin smiles, but there’s something in his smile that is even more alarming than Jonghyun’s expression. Naturally, Taemin leans closer to Jonghyun, and Kibum huffs at the way they’re such a picture perfect couple. Great. Just what he needs in his own desperately single state. Taemin never eases his grip on Kibum’s arm, though, so he has no choice but to stay right there even when people start to flock around them, all gathering in for the promised big show.

The lights dim, and Kibum can barely see some movement on stage. He sips his drink, his features perpetually stuck in a frown as he still has his suspicions about this. But then the spotlight switches on and silence falls into the club. There’s a cop standing on stage, in full uniform, and goddamnit if it isn’t the hottest cop Kibum has ever seen in his life. He hasn’t even gotten a glance of the man’s face yet, but the way the uniform hugs those wide shoulders, the way the pants are snug around the hips, everything emphasizes what a toned body is hidden underneath the layers of fabric and Kibum can’t help but swallow dryly.

Quickly, he takes a long sip from his drink, just to have something to do, but that’s when the beat of the music starts. The man looks up, long fingers sliding along the visor of his hat, and Kibum can already feel something short-circuiting in his brain. He should’ve expected a striptease show, of course Jonghyun and Taemin would both want to see one. But he expected something corny, something straight out of a bad movie, and not a godly being like this. Seriously. It’s not legal to be so hot.

When the man begins the show, it’s clear that he’s not the best dancer out there. He pulls the moves off, but there’s something hesitant and tense in the lines of his body, as if he’s new to this, or not quite used to the routine yet. None of it matters though as the crowd keeps cheering him on, clapping and screaming for more. Kibum does none of that, though, too mesmerized by the long legs, too occupied by his sudden intense urge to run his nails down that wide back.

Before he even notices it his glass is empty again, and he’s not sure if the alcohol is making this better or worse for his self-control. When the stripper loses his shirt, Kibum loses his mind, he could swear he does. At least something explodes in his brain and he really, really needs to get laid. Or get his hands on that gorgeous body on stage, that would also be an option. Or both of those combined, preferably.

Suddenly Taemin is screeching something right next to him, waving madly until the man on stage notices him and gives a small grin. He approaches the side of the stage, giving a high five to a few of the girls and guys reaching out for him, but stops right in front of Taemin. Taemin leans in and says something that Kibum cannot really hear, but the next thing those big brown eyes are on him and holy shit up close the stripper dude is even hotter than from afar.

It takes a moment for Kibum to realize what’s going on when the man reaches his hands out for him, urging him to follow. It takes Jonghyun’s hands in the small of Kibum’s back, practically pushing him forward, before Kibum realizes he’s standing on the stage together with the half-dressed exotic dancer he’s been drooling after for the duration of the whole performance.

Shamelessly, the man grips Kibum’s wrists and walks backwards until they’re in the centre of the stage, before urging him to join in the dance. It might be the alcohol, it might be the familiar beat, it might be the fact that Kibum loves dancing, or it could be the smoking hot man in front of him, Kibum doesn’t know. But despite the reason, he realizes that he’s starting to move along and soon they’re shamelessly putting on a show for the audience.

It’s just like dancing in a smoky club with a stranger you just met. Except that Kibum has never met such an attractive stranger, nor has he ever had an audience this eager to scream for them. He finds he enjoys it though, especially when he gets over the bafflement and starts to actually put his everything to it.

What makes it even better? What is the best part of it? The man seems to be as focused on Kibum as Kibum is on him. That comes clear latest when the man grasps Kibum’s hands again and brings them to his sides, practically inviting him to help with the removal of the last garments. The belt is already unbuckled, and this close Kibum can see that the uniform pants are only held together from a few points that make it easy to rip them off.

Shamelessly, Kibum slides his fingers underneath the waistband of the pants, revelling in the way the man shudders at that, as if he’s getting off on this as much as Kibum is. He gives a cocky smirk, turns around and then nods slightly. Kibum takes that as a sign and grabs the fabric of the pants tight. He sends a short prayer to the heavens as he can feel the firm thighs against his knuckles, but then only holds his breath and yanks as hard as he can. The pants give in easily, way more easily than Kibum would’ve even thought, and the audience erupts in even louder cheers.

The rest of it goes by in a quick blur. The man is only in his underwear now and that seems to signal the end of the performance as he straightens, flashes a bright grin at the audience and grips Kibum’s hand in his own. He takes a bow and only at the last second Kibum understands to follow suit. Then there’s only a few waves around, the loud applause drowning out everything else.

When the man turns to smile at Kibum for the last time, it’s like time literally stops for a moment. It sounds corny and stupid but Kibum blames it on alcohol, he’s certainly had enough tonight. If he’s not mistaken the man says an inaudible ‘thank you’ at him, leaning closer as if he wants to whisper it straight into Kibum’s mouth. But then he’s gone, grabs his clothes as he runs backstage, leaving Kibum standing there completely dumbfounded.

“I told you that you’d want to see this up close, man!” Jonghyun laughs as he claps his hands on Kibum’s shoulders. “Was that the best time of your life or what?” He looks far too satisfied in himself and his plotting skills, and Kibum could swear that this was something that Jonghyun and Taemin planned already before they decided to have a bachelor party at all.

“You didn’t,” Kibum huffs, pretending to be annoyed, “Taemin did.” He can’t hold out the façade any longer though, the giddy grin breaking free the next second. “God he was hot! You could’ve gotten me a second dance with him too, if you went for one already. That would’ve made you a true friend.”

“Well,” Taemin cuts in, sliding next to the two, and hands something at Kibum with a smirk. “I think you could still get that. He looked pretty into you.”

Kibum glances down and only now realizes that it’s the hat he’s holding, the policeman hat that completes the whole outfit. It must’ve fallen off the stage at some point, or been forgotten, and of course Taemin went to find it as soon as he got the chance to. Or maybe Taemin stole it to begin with. Kibum wouldn’t put that past him, not as he knows Taemin is full of devious plans when he wants to.

He doesn’t say anything, just flashes his friends a thankful smile, before abandoning them in favour of his new mission. He knows where the backstage area is, as it’s basically just one larger bathroom at the other end of the club that is open for audience whenever there’s not a planned performance. It’s more than easy to get there, and he slips into the room before closing the door behind himself.

The click of the lock is enough to draw attention, and the man in the room turns around to face him. He’s now wearing a regular black t-shirt and jeans that are a little too baggy for Kibum’s tastes, but he still manages to look absolutely dashing and for a second Kibum forgets why he’s even there. He gets over himself soon, though, and clears his throat as he holds out the hat. “You forgot this. I figured you might need it.”

“Thank you,” the man says, and his voice is yet another thing that makes Kibum’s knees go weak. Goddamnit this man should really arrest himself for being illegally hot. “I… was just going to head out to find it.” He gives a sheepish smile. “But now I don’t need to, so, yeah. Thanks.” He reaches for the hat and takes it, before meeting Kibum’s eyes again. “I’m Minho. Nice to meet you.”

It’s funny how he seems almost shy in comparison to the stage persona from earlier, the cockiness and the attitude that’d make anyone worship him. Yet Kibum finds himself liking both sides, and is it really healthy to be this infatuated already? He doesn’t really care, to be honest, and boldly steps closer, runs his index finger down the centre of Minho’s chest. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” he begins, “but I got the feeling you might not be against another dance with me? Out there. Without stripping, this time.”

Minho looks surprised only for a beat, before the smug grin is back on his lips and he shifts closer, his hands easily migrating to Kibum’s hips. “I could be persuaded,” he says, his voice having the same effect as the first time. Kibum is sort of glad he can lean against Minho’s chest just the tiniest bit, and with his hands trapped between their bodies he gets to feel up the muscles underneath the thin shirt.

“First, though,” Kibum says, his eyes already fixed on Minho’s mouth. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do ever since you first appeared up on stage.” He leans in, making his intentions clear but also giving Minho enough time to pull back if he wishes to. Who knows, he might not be into kissing strangers the first thing without getting to know them? And Kibum really doesn’t want to screw this up before he even gets his chance.

Minho doesn’t pull back though, but instead closes the last of the distance himself. He practically pushes Kibum against the closest wall, kissing him with such intent that it leaves nothing up for interpretation. It makes Kibum’s head spin – or maybe that’s the amount of alcohol Kibum has consumed throughout the evening? – and he doesn’t really want to go back out there. He’d much rather stay here and get acquainted with what else Minho does amazingly well, except for kissing.

He forces himself to pull back after a while and instead reaches for Minho’s hand to lace their fingers together. “Now, let’s go dance.” He flashes a grin. This is going to turn out to be the best night of his life. He’s certain of that.

Four days later, Kibum asks Minho to be his date for the wedding. Minho says yes.

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lmao I can't drabble ok

@DW.

[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – High Maintenance - Chapter 5/10

rabenhorst — Sun, 08 Dec 2013 16:50:33 GMT

Title: High Maintenance; Chapter 5/10
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17 (overall)
Pairing: Minho/girl!Key (Minho/Gwiboon)
Other characters: Jonghyun, Onew, Zhou Mi, Boa, girl!Taemin (some are around more than others)
Warnings: --
Wordcount: 47 200 (overall); 4585 for this part
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: When Gwiboon's car breaks down she expects the repairs to be an annoying hassle. Not in her wildest dreams had she hoped for an illegally hot mechanic to be there to ease her hardships.
Comments: Previous parts: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

“Please don’t tell me you never had milkshakes either or I might cry for your sad childhood,” Minho says as he hands the large beverage over to Gwiboon. He receives a slap on his arm, but it’s not like it hurts and it doesn’t even make him stop laughing. It’s a beautiful day so they’re in the park again, after having walked along a street window shopping. Minho is still sort of traumatized by those price tags, but thankfully they hadn’t bought anything. He’s not sure he would’ve lived through something like that.

It’s definitely a punishment to him, Minho thinks, as Gwiboon sulks and closes her lips around the thick straw, pretending to enjoy his milkshake so much that her cheeks hollow a little. It sends a whole other set of images through Minho’s mind and he can’t hold back the groan, quickly forcing his mind on a more innocent path. They’re in a park, for god’s sake, a park full of children and their parents and no one needs to be scandalized.

“I’ve had some before, thank you very much,” Gwiboon says when she finally releases the straw, but not without chasing after it with her tongue for one more sip. “Besides my childhood wasn’t sad. I got a swimming pool for my birthday when I turned six.” She arches an eyebrow, as if to dare him to argue, and he just holds his hands up in surrender, still grinning.

A moment passes in silence and then Gwiboon huffs. “Okay it fucking sucked. It’s not like having gigantic presents made me feel more at home while mom and dad were out there being busy. But I turned out alright.” She shrugs, this time focusing on her milkshake for real, instead of only as a way to tease Minho. It hadn’t been all bad, she knows her parents care for her in their own way, and she’s always known it. Yet she can’t deny it had been lonely growing up, until she’d turned old enough to attend the official parties and dinners.

Minho steps a little closer and sneaks an arm around Gwiboon’s shoulders, pulling her along just when she absent-mindedly almost walks straight into a jogger. They continue down the path, and although neither of them says anything it’s not a bad kind of silence. It’s comfortable, companionable, and if they’re being honest it’s something neither of them has really experienced before. Not like this.

As soon as both their cups are empty, Gwiboon shoves them into the nearest trash bin. What she doesn’t expect is that before she even manages to turn there are strong arms around her waist, lifting her up and twirling her in the air. Her first instinct is to screech but it turns into full-blown laughter seconds later, and she tries to aim a weak punch at Minho somehow. “Let me down, caveman! This isn’t how you treat a lady!”

“It isn’t?” Minho asks, laughter in his voice as he speaks right into her ear, spinning her around a couple of times more. “This lady doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Oh, I’ll show you –!” She never gets to finish that thought before she feels her left shoe slip from her foot, and she dearly hopes it won’t end up smacking some poor innocent bystander straight in the forehead. “Minho stop! Stop, my shoe!”

This time Minho listens, carefully slowing them down and allowing her down on the ground again. She has slight troubles balancing on only one foot, but she’s not going to walk barefoot on a path like this, where there could be anything, thank you very much. Thankfully Minho is right there so she leans against him shamelessly, using him for support. “Did you see where it flew?” she asks, trying to look around. They’re in a less crowded part of the park, only a few people around to give them amused or appalled looks.

“You’re not going to like this…” Minho begins slowly, his cheeks a little pale as his eyes are fixed somewhere. Gwiboon tries to follow his line of sight, but it takes her a moment to finally locate her missing shoe. In the middle of the fountain. It’s right there, almost blocking the spray of water, already soaked thoroughly and absolutely ruined, Gwiboon knows that. As much as she loves her designer heels, she knows they’re not much for extreme conditions, and she’s going to have to forget about that one.

She sighs. “Great.”

“I can get it for you,” Minho offers immediately, looking at her apologetically. “It’s not like the water is deep, I can just walk to the centre.”

“It’s no use.” She shakes her head. “It’s ruined already, there’s no way I’m going to walk in it anymore. Actually, there’s no way I’m walking at all anymore unless you fetch me another pair of shoes since it’s not like I can hop forward on one leg…” She tries to grin but it falls a little bit flat. Those were one of her favourite shoes, after all.

“C’mon.” Minho’s smile is genuine, and he crouches down, gesturing for Gwiboon to climb on his back. “I’ll carry you.”

“You…” Gwiboon can’t help but burst out laughing. “Honestly? You’re not going to carry me.”

“It’s either this or bridal style, your choice.” Minho shrugs, still looking up at her expectantly.

She only takes a second to consider her options before she sighs and straddles Minho’s back in a quick movement. She can’t deny, it feels really nice being pressed up against it, with his strong arms holding her up with little to no effort. Grinning, she shamelessly runs her hands over Minho’s chest, before settling her arms loosely around his neck.

“Who said you could feel me up?” Minho asks. There’s no way to deny he’s enjoying it too, though, he’s not even trying to cover it up.

Gwiboon only hums, happily, swinging her legs a little bit. “You do realize we’re turning into a romantic comedy? Like, those super-cheesy ones for people who still need to believe in something like true love.”

“Yes,” Minho answers easily. “But somehow I don’t have a problem with that.”

Briefly, Gwiboon considers if she does. When she can’t find a single thing that’d annoy her in the current situation – except losing her shoe, obviously – she plants a wet, loud kiss on Minho’s cheek. “No. Me neither. Not a problem at all.”

He turns to grin at him and so she aims the next kiss on his mouth. She misses, hitting his nose instead, but it makes them both laugh even more so it’s not like it’s anyone’s loss.

Apparently, having a super-hot and charming boyfriend has its negatives too. The universe has to keep some sort of a balance, and there can’t be too many nice things for one person at once, Gwiboon decides. There’s no other explanation for why she’s had such a craptastic week. If it had been only one day, okay, she would’ve cried against Jinki’s shoulder or taken her frustrations out on Minho in the form of a rough roll in the sack.

Yet it’s been a sucky seven day marathon and the worst part is that all of her friends – including her boyfriend – have been as busy as she has been so she’s lived with practically no desirable social interaction. She hasn’t seen Minho all week, has only received one text from him, and it’s not like she’s gotten much more attention from any of her friends either.

She’s had three different projects due in the past two days, and she knows it’s her own fault for procrastinating on them earlier but working for a few nights in a row with less than three hours of sleep isn’t really good for her mood. She’s also managed to lose her wallet, which lead to cancelling all of her credit cards and starting everything from scratch, including getting a new ID. Then there’s been four phone calls from her mother and one from her father that all left her feeling inadequate and a failure as a daughter.

So she picks up takeout and heads to the garage the first chance she gets, hoping to get some remedy for her sour mood.

But as if she hasn’t had enough shit this week, she has to walk in on her boyfriend twirling another girl in the air, both of them laughing freely. It hits a bit too close to home and Gwiboon clears her throat, before discreetly kicking at the nearest shelf to make a whole pile of tools clatter on the floor loudly. It makes Minho and the girl both jump, turning towards Gwiboon with their eyes wide open in shock. “Gwiboon!” Minho breathes out, a smile spreading on his lips as he finally snaps back to reality. “When did you come in?”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Maybe not the worst, but awfully wrong anyway, and Gwiboon can already feel tears of frustration prickle in the corners of her eyes. She blinks them away, raising her chin stubbornly as she glares him down. “Just a second ago. Why? Am I interrupting something special here?”

The girl smiles then, sort of disarmingly, and if Gwiboon wasn’t so angry to begin with she might’ve had a more favourable first impression of her. She’s shorter than Gwiboon, slender and almost fragile looking, has really kissable lips and perfect skin framed by dark strands of hair. The girl is beautiful, and although Gwiboon doesn’t have any illusions about her own appearance it does sting.

Stepping forward, the girl raises her arm as if to offer her hand to Gwiboon in a greeting. “Yes, actually! I’m Tae–”

“I don’t care who you are!” Gwiboon practically spits out. She flings the takeout cartons towards the two, her aim horrendous as always, and seconds later there’s noodles and sauce and stripes of chicken all over the garage floor at Minho’s feet. Nothing phases her now though, hurt and anger boiling into a huge fiery ball that simply explodes. “So this is it? This is it!?”

Minho only opens his mouth, unable to get a word out, his eyes comically wide as he stares at her.

“Screw you, Minho,” Gwiboon begins, lowly and threateningly. “I thought I could trust you!”

She spins around so fast she almost stumbles, before storming out of the garage. She doesn’t need to stand there and listen to Minho’s explanations, she’s seen enough. If she’s this easily replaced she doesn’t want to hear another word, she knows it’d only cause for her to get even more mad and she would start throwing wrenches goddamnit, until one of them would hit their mark and someone would bleed.

As good as Gwiboon is at running in high heels, she obviously can’t match Minho and his ridiculously long legs. That becomes evident as strong arms stop her from marching forward, spinning her around to face a slightly flushed Minho. That’s when she lets her palm connect with Minho’s cheek in a slap so hard it leaves both her hand and Minho’s face reddened and throbbing with the impact.

“Let go of me,” Gwiboon shrieks, trying to aim a kick at him. He manages to dodge, a bit too easily, but does loosen his grip on her immediately.

“Look, Gwiboon, please just listen!” Minho pleads, searching for eye contact. “Please don’t run away, okay?” Already as he’s speaking he lets go of her completely, allowing her to go free if she wants to. She doesn’t know why she stays there, rooted to the spot, when a moment earlier she’d been ready to kick and scream for as long as it would take to get out of there.

There’s a short, breathless pause, but Gwiboon grows tired of it really fast. “Speak.”

“It’s not what you think it is –”

That’s when her patience snaps another time and she raises her voice to interrupt him. “It’s not what I think it is? So it’s not a sequel to your last romantic comedy, one in which you’ll actually stay with the girl in the end? I’m so sick of liars, Minho, I’ve had to handle enough of them for several lifetimes. You were different, you didn’t lie to me and go behind my back, like everyone else before. Or so I thought. If you don’t want me, then say it to my fucking face, don’t go have another storybook romance on the side!”

“But she’s not my –”

“This was stupid anyway!” Gwiboon interrupts, again, throwing her arms in the air. “How did I think I’d pull it off? My parents would never approve of someone like you! My whole life is light years away from yours!”

She’s ready to say more but there’s something in Minho’s expression that stops her automatically. He seems hurt, as if she’s the one who took his feelings and trampled all over them in the last ten minutes. Yet she snaps her mouth shut, so tight it hurts, and glares him down.

Finally, Minho sighs. “Look, Gwiboon,” he says, runs his fingers through his hair and manages to look both adorable and attractive at the same time. Gwiboon sort of wants to kick him right now. In the face. But she lets him go on. “That girl over there, she was Taeyeon. She is Jonghyun’s wife. They just had twins and I haven’t seen her since I visited them at the hospital, and she came to invite me, to invite us, over for dinner.”

The anger doesn’t go away just like that. Yet Gwiboon can feel herself deflating slightly, the worst edge of the agitation melting away as she sees nothing but sincerity in Minho’s eyes when he looks at her. “I’m not cheating on you, Gwiboon. I’m not having an affair with her. She’s the love of my best friend’s life. You just didn’t let me say anything before you stormed off.”

“Right,” Gwiboon begins, but instead of an angry snarl it turns into a choked sob, “so now it’s my fault, of course. Like everything else is.”

“No.” Minho shakes his head. He moves slowly, gives her every chance to pull away or stop him, but finally circles his arms around her and pulls her into a warm embrace. “C’mon. Wanna talk about it? Were you already upset before you walked in on that?”

It’s probably an educated guess, but it still makes the stubborn tears re-appear in Gwiboon’s eyes. “I just… I’ve had the shittiest week in the shitty history of shitty weeks. And then I come here and think I’ve lost you too.” She buries her face into his shirt. Who cares if he’ll have makeup smudges on it later, or if she needs to touch up her face before going anywhere public.

She doesn’t want to go back to the garage to face Taeyeon right now, so they go in through the back and lock themselves into the kitchenette. It feels good to pour out all of the crap that has been happening all week, and she just talks and talks until her voice is hoarse. After they’ve cleared up the air, everything seems already brighter again.

Maybe, Gwiboon thinks, she can have her storybook romance, after all.

The argument is at least good for something, as it seems to clear the air and Gwiboon feels a lot less stressed after it, when things seem to slip back to how they were before. They both agree that going a week with barely any contact isn’t good for either of them, much less for their relationship, and thus agree on hanging out as much as they can. It’s not easy, with how much work Minho has to do, but now that Gwiboon’s workload has dropped drastically she often sits at the garage with him, usually both focused on their own work.

For the longest time, it used to be Gwiboon’s favourite pastime to sit there and watch Minho work. The obvious reason is of course how good he looks, especially when it gets hotter and he begins sweating a little, his tanktop clinging to his skin. Yet she also finds it somehow calming, almost domestic, how they can share space even without constantly filling it with chatter.

One day, Gwiboon brings a sketchbook along, and from then on it begins to get filled with numerous drawings, almost all of them of Minho. Drawing is something she used to be good at, back in high school, but she hasn’t had any interest in it for years and it sort of feels like she has to learn everything all over again. It’s not like she complains, though. She could spend hours upon hours drawing the lines of Minho’s back, or shadowing the light stubble, or trying to get those Adam’s apples just right.

She might have several sketches of Minho’s butt in there, too. But it’s not her fault. It’s a glorious bottom, anyone would want to practice drawing it. Anyone.

Minho’s sitting at the desk, pulling hair to get the paperwork down, while she’s working on yet another drawing, a full-body one this time, aiming to get most of the shading right this time so that she might actually find this worthy of being shown to someone. Jonghyun has left home already a couple of hours ago, so it’s just them in the silence of the garage, until the sound of the buzzer cuts through the air.

“What?” Gwiboon frowns, raising her gaze from her work to meet Minho’s. “The place is closed, can’t they read the sign?”

“Maybe it’s an emergency.” Minho shrugs. He obviously isn’t so keen on the paperwork so he gets up, gesturing for her to wait while he goes to the door to check who it is. Gwiboon isn’t certain how often things like this happen, yet after a while she’s pretty sure it shouldn’t take so long for Minho to at least pop back to tell her what’s going on. She closes her sketchbook and follows, feet padding softly on the concrete floor in the slippers she’s stolen from Minho.

“Minho?” she calls as she steps into the main hall. She spots him a bit further away, talking animatedly with a middle-aged couple, and she figures that she can as well go see what it’s all about. Naturally, she stops to stand next to Minho, tugging a little on his belt as he notices how askew it is. Might as well make her man seem presentable.

That earns her an amused look from the woman, who is the first to acknowledge her. “Minho,” she addresses him, even though her eyes are still on Gwiboon, “care to do the introductions? I’d like to know who this young lady is.”

Minho clears his throat and sneaks an arm around Gwiboon’s waist, gently pulling her a little closer. “Uhm, well. This isn’t how I planned the whole meet-the-parents thing but, mom and dad, this is Gwiboon. Gwiboon, these are my parents.”

Only now does Gwiboon realize how much the man actually looks like Minho, and how there are similar mannerisms even in the way he stands. The woman has some similar features, too, and her smile is completely heart-melting, just like her son’s. They seem nothing but friendly, immediately greeting her, but she freezes completely for a couple of seconds. She doesn’t even remember when she was last introduced to a boyfriend’s parents.

Somehow she manages to utter polite greetings, but that’s as far it gets before there’s a brief but awkward silence. Thankfully Minho’s mother seems to be an expert at filling those. “So we didn’t really mean to stop by, as I was telling Minho, but we were driving home from visiting his brother so we decided we’d come say hi.”

Minho nods, turning to look at Gwiboon, as if to make sure she’s alright with the situation. She wants to scoff and say that of course she is, she’s not a child anymore, but the truth is that she’s sort of enjoying Minho’s silent support and his arm around her, so she doesn’t say anything. “They asked if I’d eaten,” Minho says, “and if I’d have dinner with them.”

“Which means,” Mrs Choi cuts in immediately, “that you are invited as well, dear. There’s this little place just down the street that means a lot to us.” She glances at her husband, smiling. “At least to a sentimental fool like me. We’re headed that way now, so if you’d just join us?”

“That’s very kind of you,” Gwiboon finally manages to answer, digging out the polite front she’s so used to bringing up in every formal party her parents have brought her to. “But I wouldn’t want to intrude. I’ll let you catch up with your son properly instead of being in the way.”

“Nonsense!” Mrs Choi announces. “We insist.”

There’s not much Gwiboon can say to that, so she gets roped into having dinner with Minho’s family. She excuses herself long enough to find her purse and to switch back to her heels from the slippers, and before she even knows what happened they’re sitting in a corner booth in a charming traditional restaurant, waiting for their orders to arrive.

It’s more than a little overwhelming, to say the least. Yet Minho keeps giving her apologetic smiles and squeezes her hand underneath the table, and Mrs Choi keeps up the friendly chatter until everyone is more or less relaxed. It’s somewhere around the delicious dessert that Gwiboon realizes she’s really enjoying herself, liking the quick chats she can strike up with Minho’s mother and the silent and gentlemanly way his father presents himself.

It’s like they’ve already taken her into the family, even if it seems to be way too soon, and she can’t help but feel genuinely appreciated by that. The dinner turns out to be nicer and friendlier than any of the ones she’s shared with her own parents, as messed up as that is. When Minho’s father wants to have a word with his son in private, Gwiboon doesn’t even think twice before leaving together with Mrs Choi to wait for the men outside.

“I’m so happy you agreed to join us,” Minho’s mother announces as soon as the door falls shut behind them and they take the first steps in the gentle, warm breeze. “I don’t know why Minho has been hiding you, you’re absolutely everything a mother could wish for her son.” The words leave Gwiboon taken aback, even though she already knows how Mrs Choi is prone to exaggeration. She doesn’t have even the slightest chance to reply before the following words. “Aren’t you miles out of his league though?”

“Oh please,” Gwiboon huffs, momentarily forgetting her manners and acting like she would around her friends instead of someone she needs to impress. “Have you seen him?” Only a little belatedly she realizes how that could be interpreted wrong, and hurries to go on. “No, really, I’m not. He’s …probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” It comes out as a question, because she surprises herself as much as anyone by even saying things like that out loud. She doesn’t even try to take it back, though. Not when she knows it’s the truth.

Mrs Choi smiles warmly, taking both of Gwiboon’s hands in her own. “Trust me, a mother knows her son, and he is completely gone. I’ve never seen Minho this smitten over someone. And I’m more than glad to welcome you into our family.”

It seems like a huge thing, and it is, which is why Gwiboon does nothing but nods dumbly. She’s not going to run off to get married with Minho anytime soon, and they’ve made it clear to his parents that their relationship is still fresh. And yet here she is, being welcomed with open arms, in a way she could never imagine anyone in her own family behaving. It’s equal parts wonderful and terrifying, and she’s glad to be saved by the men finally following them outside.

Minho’s skin is warm under Gwiboon’s touch as she traces a random pattern down his chest, burrowed close to his side. They’ve been silent for a good while, coming down from their high and soaking in each other’s presence, so Minho’s voice is gruff when he finally speaks up. “I’m sorry about today.” He brings a hand to the back of Gwiboon’s head, threading his fingers through the soft curls. “I know my mom can be really intense and I… I didn’t plan on forcing them upon you just yet.”

“No,” Gwiboon shakes her head, the tiniest bit not to lose the touch, before pressing her nose against his shoulder. “It’s okay. They were both really nice. Your mom might be planning the wedding already, though,” she chuckles, a little nervously. She likes Minho, more than she has liked anyone in a long time. Like might not even be a strong enough word for what she’s feeling. But marriage? She’s not ready for things like that.

Easily, Minho uses his free arm to haul Gwiboon upwards, to press a firm kiss on her already reddened lips. “Don’t take her too seriously,” he whispers, his fingers trailing down Gwiboon’s spine in a way that makes her shudder. “We’ll take our time and see where this goes, just as we agreed.”

“I know,” she smiles, shifting until she’s straddling his hips, aiming for as much of skin on skin contact as she can possibly get. “I’m not stressed, I promise. You can’t scare me away just with a dinner with parents. If you want to get rid of me, you’ve got to try something way worse.”

He laughs, the low and infectious laughter that makes them both shake. He doesn’t reply, not with words, but instead captures her lips in another slow kiss. His answer is in every touch, in every sigh, and she knows that there’s no hurry. They’ll make their own pace. Then he has to go and shatter the calmness that has already settled by speaking up again. “Dad asked me when they’re going to get grandkids.”

“He what!?” Gwiboon isn’t proud of the way she shrieks, quickly pulling back to look at Minho from huge eyes. “No no no. I’m sorry, but no.” She babbles so fast she doesn’t even realize the way Minho is grinning, not before he actually has the audacity to laugh again and that finally makes her snap back to reality. “You ass,” she huffs, and punches him out of spite. If the following kiss takes a little away from her alleged annoyance, she doesn’t really mind.

“He didn’t really ask that, did he?” she asks a moment later.

“He actually did,” Minho answers calmly, soothingly stroking slow circles on her sides. “But I told him that they’ll just have to be patient about it. I… I mean, we haven’t even been dating for that long yet, right?” There’s the slightest bit of uncertainty in his voice, and it immediately manages to melt her heart.

“We’ll just have to make it that long,” she smirks. “I am so not ready for a family yet. But I’m not saying I won’t ever be.”

Neither of them knows whether or not they’ll get that far together. Right now, it doesn’t matter, though. What matters is that they’re in this together, that they’re slowly growing closer and closer, enjoying every minute of it. Time will tell the rest.

Chapter 6

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it’s all thanks to koukaiaru (as usual ♥) that this is betaed at all, but I think I probably made more new mistakes while fixing it than I actually managed to get rid of so please excuse them ok ;; I’m so tired I literally can barely see straight so this is as good as it’ll get now, sorry.

@DW.