#choi being a smug silent fuck is Also Important

[heart2beom]

1. how to not embarrass yourself

SYNOPSIS a romcom office series; in which you're a huge romantic at heart but the shitty men you attract leaves you with countless failed relationships. then, you meet choi soobin. in an elevator. he isn't interested in you, he finds you annoying, and he clearly has zero respect for you, so why the hell are you so bent on making him like you?

WARNINGS none + NOT a smau, tag used for more reach

AUTHOR NOTE ill go according to schedule next time, bare with me for the first few chapters T-T anyways, after reading im always always open to feedback or just comments in general, i want to start this series by saying that i want this to be as interactive as possible with readers. that said, you have a suggestion, i might make it happen :)

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The first day you met the blonde, it was, to put it lightly, your worst encounter with a human being. Ever. No, like...the worst. You lost your dignity that one day in March, the transition to spring.

“Hey! Hey hey hey!”, you had put your hand in the middle of the closing elevator doors, that the person inside wasn’t bothered to try and stop. “Why didn’t you...”, you bit your lip.

Nope. Not today. You kept it to yourself, maybe he didn’t see you. Running. And yelling. Yeah, he probably didn’t see you. 

You walked inside the elevator, awkwardly. 

Your hands were clammy, you don't know why. What do people do in an elevator? Were you supposed to do something? Take a little peek at the guy? It wouldn't hurt...you've heard your few shares of elevator love stories.

You looked away when you noticed his blonde hair, cursing in your head. Guess you weren't destined to get the elevator relationship.

You’ve been holding onto the theory that the blonde in men’s hair seeps into their brains and turns it rotten. Filthy, smoosh rotten brain. Naturally blonde men were actually born, and medically are evil. Despite people questioning the validity of it all...come on, you've heard "its just your bad limited experiences with blondes" a bajillion times now, its true.

Well, you haven't personally tested it out.. but there's several blonde dictators! And more than once, the dirtbag your friends would cry about was none other than a dirty ol' blonde man. There's no redemption.

But then you furrow your eyebrows---naturally��blonde men. Naturally blonde men are the evil ones. You take a second glance, and notice his roots. 

Oh, they were awful.

But that only meant one thing. He wasn’t born evil. And he was cute! And young, young's important.

“Hey, what floor are you going to?” you asked with a little smile tugging at your lips, a little too smug for seven in the morning, looking straight at the closed elevator in front of you. You’re a self proclaimed romantic, when you try, you could even get some random billionaire on his knees.

But oddly, it was quiet. All your ears could pick up was white noise... Had you finally gone deaf? You could've snapped your hands to test that thought, but you hadn't.

Looking back, everything went wrong because it was seven. Even further back, maybe your parents should've forced you into being an early bird when you were a teen. Maybe then, this day wouldn't have existed in your timeline or some bullshit.

You cleared your throat, looking to your side. And the fake blonde was as collected, and silent as he was for the past thirty seconds that you’ve known him.

The elevator was incredibly slow due to it being a hundred years old but thankfully that time, it was seen as a blessing for your situation.

You tried again because hey, what harm could it cause? “So... what floor are you going to?”

One thing you learned that day, of march, in the transition to spring, was that you weren’t fucking deaf. And if it ended at that little embarrassing incident, maybe you could stand the little blonde bitch a tiny bit more.

And he didn’t look like he was going to reciprocate your small talk any time soon too. But so what? It also quite frankly, didn’t look like you’ve had any romantic suitors for the past ten months either. And you’d promise anyone that those were the most boring... dryest... lowest point of your life.

No romance? You can’t go another month like this or you’ll end up in the trajectory of a lonely cat mother who actually enjoys the taste of black coffee and not drank it for the purpose of getting approval from hot coffee snobs.

So, you took it upon yourself to try and save this in the ten seconds you had left before you’d leave to work at your job and continue to sell your youth.

“Ah, so I guess we’re going to the same floor huh?” you said taking note of the bright yellow 16.

“I like your blonde... suits you.”

“You have the face of like..an adorable rabbit, but like a very big and tall rabbit. It’s a charming thing by the way”

You kept on going, one second every sentence, something should get him. 

“You know you could be a model." you exhaled. "Hey, are you wearing airpods?” Admittedly, as much as you pride yourself to having the patience of a monk you were...you were getting impatient and every word you said was punching your self esteem to the floor. It wasn't great.

You were beginning to think he was either the one who was actually deaf or was listening to music. Both would make perfect sense so you did the most perfectly sensible thing to do and ...pushed his hair to the side to see if he had something in.

“What the hell?”

Was the first sentence fake blonde had spoken to you.

And was also the first time had acknowledged you, looking at you straight at your face. Fortunately, the elevator had reached your floor and opened. 

You were frozen, frozen like glued to the floor there while the blonde furrowed his eyebrows giving you his first but not last, judging side eye as he walked out the elevator. Leaving you there. Staring at the space he was occupying. 

All you could think about were his ears. His ears were perfectly free of any wired and wireless earphones. So he wasn’t listening to music.

You snapped out of it and remembered your job, spam clicking the 16th button on the elevator. “Fuck”, you gasped. 

“What if he was actually deaf?”, you said to yourself pondering, biting your lip. 

When the elevator dinged, you hurriedly ran out. You had to get to your job, you couldn’t risk being late a fifth time in a row.

Kim & Associates was an easy find. Glass doors however showed you something. The blonde. You pushed open the door, hesitantly walking in. 

“You remind me of myself. Handsome, young, and eager. Ah, it makes me reminiscent-- Oh, your mentor's here!” the old man pointed at you, fake blonde looking your way too.

You walk fast to get closer to them, confused. You don't show it though, you're a professional.

"He's...he's the..." you tried to keep on a smile. Your boss was just nodding, completely clueless. Yes, you were an outstanding employee but you can't mentor someone who has a difficulty you've never had to deal with...

Fake blonde. You looked to your side to see him...you felt bad, how hard is it to be deaf and work in an office that prioritizes salesman...ship...

Your eyes widened. Then narrowed. How deaf was this guy really?

"Hi." you turned to the blonde, extending a hand. He shook it, looking right into your eyes. "Hi...um" he looked at your chest quickly, "Y/N. I look forward to working with you."

"Wonderful wonderful. Y/N, this is Choi Soobin." the manager gestured to the blonde, and you nod. He looked like his name.

It was quiet, again.

"So...now you've met. Fun! I'll steal you for a bit Soobin to give you your name badge, after that, you can head to Y/N and she'll start you up with all the ...business."

When your manager took Soobin away, you've by long figured out that the likelihood of him being deaf...was very low. Which flared your cheeks into a very embarrassingly bright red.

And when Soobin ended up finding you after an hour, you still took your chances.

"Are you deaf?" you blurted out, avoiding eye contact. Maybe this was the only time you would ever pray for a person to actually turn out to be deaf, maybe this wasn't your brightest moment...but it had to done, or you would go to bed every night saying 'what if i asked the god that i don't believe in'.

And there it was, the minute of silence that always has to go by with this guy.

"What?" he finally asked.

"God, forget it. You're clearly not." you painfully laughed; you turned your head to look at him in the eye again. And you wished you hadn't. It's the same exact look you give Sunghoon every time he spills water on his computer, the fucking hooligan, at the office.

"I need to..." You pointed being your back, nodding. "To go shit. Yeah, bye. Have fun."

The first day was bad, alright. So what? You were always one to to get back on your feet, no matter how tough it was. That's exactly what you did the second day. You called it, 'Trial number 2 of day 1.'

Everyone deserves second chances.

You got on the elevator, and there he was. Tall and...cute as ever if you cared to add.

"Hey, my little mentee guy." you said playfully punching his shoulder, chuckling.

"Hi."

Awkward.

"Soobin, right?"

"Mhm."

He wasn't deaf, he just isn't a communicator, check.

The elevator wasn't the best, but who kills it in a cramped up claustrophobic inducing space? Not even the best of the best can do it.

So, your most obvious plan was to get him to warm up to you through your fun mentoring!

"You aren't Soobin's mentor anymore, Sakura is assigned to him."

"What the fuck?" you yelled, and the manager slightly jumped up from his chair, "Why? I thought--I thought that wasn't allowed?" you were frantic, blonde asshole asked to switch to another mentor? And his request was bad enough that it was accepted?

"Language language." the manager shushes, sitting back down. He exhaled. "He said...well, he said that you were making him uncomfortable...and ...and I take the word 'uncomfortable' seriously. You know how HR takes these complaints if it gets out of hand... I could get fired, demoted, then--"

"That little blonde bitch." you whispered under your breath, scoffing.

When you stomped out of the manager's office, you headed to Chaeryeong at the receptionist desk to declare war...basically.

"You look pissed...did you get fired?" she said taking a bite of the almond cookie from the jar on the desk.

"What--No? How can you say that so casually, you know I'm the best here. Also, are you seriously eating those?"

She shrugged. "They're starting to taste edible."

You raised a brow, extremely worried...until you remembered your lack of lunch breaks, then it made sense.

"Well, that's besides the point. Chae, you see that blonde guy over there with Sakura?" She nodded, "The new guy?"

"Yeah. He's going to fall in love with me by the end of the month. I'll make sure of it." you said as a matter of fact.

Chaeryeong raised a brow in shock.

"Okay, okay, I get it.", you rolled your eyes and she reached in the cookie jar to get another one thinking you would stop being ridiculous.

"By the end of next month."

TAGLIST @baekberrie @bestleeknowstan @linnysposts @wccycc (send an ask)

[katrinawritesthings]

Jinki/Taemin; Moving Day (Part 3/4); PG

still tw for anxiety, abuse mentions, and v smol emetophobia mentions

Jinki heads to his bedroom really quick to plug his phone into his charger and wiggle into some fresh clothes. By the time he gets back to the living room, Jonghyun and Key have tugged Taemin in and laid him gently down on Jonghyun’s bed. Taemin curls up small, hands gripping his water bottle tight. Key pulls a sheet up to his waist and Jonghyun pushes his hair out of his face.

“Just rest,” Jonghyun says quietly.

Moving Day: 1-2-3-4

Week Two: 1-2-3

Extra Baggage: 1

Taemin hasn’t uttered a word for over an hour.

Jinki keeps glancing at him in the rearview mirror, quick little looks whenever they hit a bit of traffic or a relatively empty stretch of road. His head is in his hands, body hunched over with his elbows on his knees, dark hair covering his face. His plastic bag dangles off of his pinky and his fingers haven’t stopped twitching ever since they hit the highway. He hasn’t thrown up yet, but there have been a few close calls of frantic rustling and hands clenching his bag so tightly that his knuckles turn white. Key next to him has their feet crossed on Jinki’s glove compartment but their hand hasn’t left Taemin’s body once this whole time. Not even when they leaned forward at a stoplight to hand Jinki their ipod to plug into his stereo to run through a playlist of quiet, chill songs.

He doesn’t have to speak, obviously; he’s going through a lot and it’s not like Jinki needs help getting back to his own home or anything. It’s perfectly okay for Taemin to stay silent. It’s just… worrying.

Taemin isn’t ready for this. He knew that from the start, they all did, but it still makes guilt and insecurity swirl in Jinki’s chest. He knows that they’re doing the right thing. He knows that Taemin needed to get out of that house and as far away as possible. They’d all made plans together over two years ago and had only been strengthening and improving on them since. He knows that Taemin would never be fully prepared and okay with this, and that was part of the plan too. But still--knowing that in theory and then seeing it out in practise are two very different things.

He doesn’t know how long Taemin’s frequent panic attacks are going to last, how long he’ll carry his constant fears and what-ifs with him, how long it’ll take him to feel safe again. Driving this car, being the one that’s personally transporting Taemin away, makes Jinki feel responsible for his super anxiety. And he wants to help, but he doesn’t know how. It’s best to leave that to Key and Jonghyun, but that just makes him feel helpless. He squeezes his steering wheel and sighs quietly as he slows just enough to let someone merge in front of him. At least they’re almost home.

“Hey… Jinx?”

“Hmm?” Jinki glances in his rearview mirror at Key’s voice. Key is looking at their phone, but they glance back to him after a second.

“Jong says that there’s a really nice diner between here and your place,” they say. Jinki thinks, then nods. He knows the one that Jonghyun is talking about.

“Yeah,” he says. “Like, fifteen minutes from here, maybe. And then just a few minutes from there to home.”

“Okay,” Key says. Then, “Taem?” they ask softly. Jinki glances back again to see Taemin wince. “Did you hear?” Key asks. “Do you want to get lunch?” There’s a silence after that. Jinki doesn’t see or hear Taemin reply, but after a moment, Key tsks soothingly. “Okay, pretty,” they say. “What if the both of them got something and then brought it home with them?” Another pause, followed by another “Okay.” Jinki hears the soft rustling of Taemin’s plastic bag and the soft peck of Key’s lips. “Will you promise me you’ll have some bread or crackers after you’ve laid down for a bit, though?” Key asks. A third pause and a third “okay,” and when Jinki glances in the mirror again, Key is leaning back in their seat.

“No diner?” he asks, just to be sure.

“No diner,” Key confirms, hand rubbing over Taemin’s back. Jinki nods. Alright then. He doesn’t really want a big meal anyway.

“Twenty more minutes,” he tells them both. “Until home.”

True to his word, twenty minutes later, Jinki pulls the minivan slowly passed the neighbor’s side of the duplex, around the corner of his and Jonghyun’s, and brings it to a stop. He caught Choi’s car on the street outside so he doesn’t particularly hurry in getting out to unlock the front door. Jonghyun is probably pulling it open right now. Instead, he smothers a yawn in his hand and clumsily unbuckles himself. Twisting in his seat, he watches Taemin uncurling himself from the position he’d spent the past while in.

He leans back against the seat, butt slouching further towards the edge, hands rubbing over his face, palms pressing into his eyes, mouth open with deep breaths. When he lowers his hands and blearily blinks around the car, his eyes land on Jinki and stay there. Jinki gives him a little wave and little smile.

“We’re here,” he says.

“Mmmgh,” Taemin says. He closes his eyes and rubs them again before sitting up straight. “Yeah,” he breathes. His hand falls to the door, fumbles for the handle, and pushes it open. He stumbles when he gets out, but Key follows with a hand on his back and the backpack Taemin forgot over his shoulder. Jinki slips out of the car as well and stretches his arms over his head. When he circles around to the little walkway to the door, he finds Jonghyun handing Taemin a bottle of ice water with a straw in it.

“Little sips, okay?” he hums, pressing his lips to Taemin’s cheek. Taemin nods, bringing the straw to his lips with a weak hand. He looks up at the house, eyes rolling over the blue paint, the cobbled walkway, the small flowers in the windowsills. He’s been here one time before, snuck here for barely more than two hours during what he told his parents was a trip to the mall with his friends. Jinki had never seen anyone happier during that time. The contrast to Taemin then and how drained and anxious he looks now is almost painful.

Jinki looks passed him and sees Choi standing in the doorway with their usual little smile. He scoots around the other three and heads that way first.

“We cleaned up a little,” Choi signs at him, and Jinki smiles back a quick “thanks.” He and Jonghyun didn’t exactly have time to clean up in their rush yesterday. Stepping inside, he looks around the open living room and nods. Jonghyun’s notebooks and music stuff, usually strewn all over the cushioned floor, are neatly stacked in the corner where they’re actually supposed to be. The pillows and sheets are still kind of a mess, but they’re less of a mess than usual so it actually looks like a big bed for once. When he slips into the kitchen to grab himself a water, he sees that the dishes that were on the table and sink have been washed also. Nice.

He heads to his bedroom really quick to plug his phone into his charger and wiggle into some fresh clothes. By the time he gets back to the living room, Jonghyun and Key have tugged Taemin in and laid him gently down on Jonghyun’s bed. Taemin curls up small, hands gripping his water bottle tight. Key pulls a sheet up to his waist and Jonghyun pushes his hair out of his face.

“Just rest,” Jonghyun says quietly. He leans down to press a kiss to Taemin’s cheek.

“But sit up if you want to drink,” Key says. They fix the sheet up neater and stand up straight, tugging Jonghyun with them to the kitchen. Jinki follows and sits at the table next to Jonghyun, Key across. Choi helpfully hands them all a bag of chips from the counter.

“Thanks, babe,” Jonghyun says, unfolding a napkin and piling some on. Jinki does the same, while Key kind of scrunches his nose and gets up to get some dry cereal. They’re all silent for a few moments, but then, “I’m worried,” Jonghyun mumbles. He rests his palm in his chin and pouts at his chips. Jinki paps his shoulder gently.

“We all are,” Key sighs.

“Yeah, but,” Jonghyun says, and then shakes his head, sips his water. “What if he’s not okay?”

“He wasn’t okay before,” Jinki says.

“He’ll be better, at least,” Key adds. Jonghyun looks between them with his teeth between his lips before he sighs and nods.

“True,” he mumbles. “Did you guys figure out how many boxes you could fit in your car?” he asks.

“I think we’re just gonna be able to take his clothes today,” Key sighs. “I forgot to take my dance bag out of the trunk this morning. Plus all of Choi’s camera stuff.” They shrug again. Jinki hums thoughtfully. They could probably fit some more of Taemin’s stuff in the clothes box, if they’re organized enough. He doesn’t have a lot; maybe a few of his games so he can distract himself from his emotions if they get to be too much.

“You can take the rest next week,” he says. They can clean out their car and he and Jonghyun can just take the leftover boxes with them on the way to The Midpoint, and then they can take it all home with them. “Or, the week after,” he adds, glancing quickly behind him into the living room. He feels like maybe Taemin won’t be up for much next week.

“Mm, yeah,” Key says, nodding easily. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah,” Jonghyun says quietly. Jinki rubs his arm soothingly. “Hmm?” Jonghyun adds at that. Jinki blinks and looks up; a sympathetic pat doesn’t strike him as a questionable gesture. Jonghyun isn’t even looking at him, though, which just makes him even more confused. “No, we don’t have mint,” Jonghyun says. Jinki blinks again and finally follows his gaze to--Choi. Oh. Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Choi sighs, then signs something else that Jinki actually sees this time.

“Ginger,” he repeats slowly, looking to the fridge and trying to remember. “I think we have some, yeah,” he says, pointing. “In the middle drawer.” Choi gives him a thumbs up and moves the check the fridge themself. With them away from the stove, Jinki notices that they have two of the burners occupied. What the fuck. How did he not notice that. One of them is a small pot full of just water and the other is a pan with two pieces of bread slowly toasting inside. “What are you doing?” he asks as Choi shuts the fridge. Choi turns just enough with one hand in the utensil drawer to sign “nausea food.”

“Taemin doesn’t like the crusts,” Jonghyun says, standing up to hover over the pan with a worried little pout. Choi shrugs.

“I’ll cut them off after,” they sign. Jonghyun hums with mild disapproval.

“Also, why are you toasting bread on the stove?” he asks. This time, Choi just taps the carton of eggs that they got out with the ginger.

“Eggs aren’t good for nausea,” Key says flatly. Choi turns to point at themself with a little smirk and Jinki rolls his eyes. Of course.

“Hey, make me some too, please, Minjunggie?” Jonghyun asks, nuzzling Choi’s shoulder gently. Choi gives him a little kiss and a little smile as an answer.

Soon, Choi has a nice little lunch platter put together. A crustless peanut butter and banana toast sandwich cut into triangles with crackers and ginger tea on one side, and a heaping pile of super salted scrambled eggs on the other. They smile at it, arranging everything to be more pretty with a note of satisfaction. Then they grab the little notepad from the counter, fold over the grocery list for that week, and start scribbling a note for Taemin to read. Jonghyun pushes Choi’s plate a little to the side to try to fit his own bowl on, but when Choi sees, they shake their head and push him gently away.

“I think I should sit with him alone for a little bit,” they sign. “No offense, but you three kind of talk a lot.” Even their fingers seem as amused as their little grin when Jonghyun humphs quietly. Jonghyun still nods though, and curls his bowl of eggs close to himself as he sits back at the table.

“He doesn’t like when people watch him eat,” Key says as Choi picks up their little tray. Choi nods that they understood and steps quietly into the living room. Jinki turns to watch them step gently over Jonghyun’s bed and sit down a comfortable distance away from Taemin. He turns back after Choi waves, only to find both Jonghyun and Key still watching. He smiles, amused.

“Jonghyun, did you want to shower?” he asks. He knows that he’s not going to shower until it’s time to sleep, but Jonghyun never cares what time he gets in. Jonghyun chews his bottom lip, looks down at his eggs, shrugs.

“When I finish these,” he mumbles, stabbing a small forkful. Jinki nods. Alright then. He turns to Key, who already finished their cereal, the crispy bread crusts, and the leftover half a banana Choi offered all of them a few minutes ago.

“Wanna go see if we can fit more stuff into Taemin’s clothes box?” he asks.

“Mm, yeah, okay,” Key hums. They stand up, wash their dishes, and then follow Jinki out to the van. Jinki opens up the back and just clambers inside, pushing aside a box so he can nestle into the corner against the back of the backseat. Then he smiles and pats the space next to him. Key climbs in obediently, but comes to a hesitant stop in front of Jinki.

“Hey, um,” they say, sitting on their heels. They tug a box closer and fiddle with the tape. “Can I, like, lean on you?” they ask. “Like, against your chest. Between your legs.” Their cheeks don’t color, but their fingers tap an awkward staccato onto the box. Jinki doesn’t even hesitate before he nods, wiggling his legs out to give Key room. It's not like they've never snuggled before.

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” he says. He makes grabby hands to make Key laugh softly as they move to settle against him. They take the box with them and nuzzle just slightly into Jinki’s neck.

“It’s, just,” they mumble. “Now that Taem is safe and I’m not in mom mode my anxiety is starting to get to me and it helps to have, like. Someone else’s heartbeat and breathing to match mine too.”

“It’s okay,” Jinki says softly. He knows. “You don’t have to explain yourself.” He pats Key’s side and reaches around him to pluck at the tape on the box. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to tape them all up anyway. It’s not like a few hours on the highway are particularly bumpy.

“Yeah, well,” Key mumbles. They bat Jinki’s hands away and stab a pocket knife into the tape instead, slicing it open easily. “Usually I’m on Choi, but. They’re kinda busy at--oh, Jinx,” they say, voice turning from quiet and hesitant to judging and disappointed. “You three just folded everything?” they ask. Jinki frowns, very much noticing their distasteful little frown.

“I--yes?” he says. They folded the clothes and packed them neatly inside of the box. A perfectly sensible and organized thing to do. Key still sighs, though, and shakes their head as they pull some things out.

“You’re supposed to roll clothes when you’re packing things,” they say disapprovingly. Jinki has no idea what the fuck they mean by that, and he says that very defensively. In reply, Key pats his head and starts rolling.

Some half hour later, after a lot of rolling on Key’s part and grumbling on Jinki’s part, they have several smaller bags full of Taemin’s stuff packed into the box as well. As they clamber out of the van Jinki pats both the box and Key’s shoulder before he shuts the trunk and locks it up.

Inside, they find the kitchen empty, but all three of the others sat on Jonghyun’s bed. Taemin is sitting with his back to the couch and his knees hugged to his chest with his mug of tea held between both hands. His straw is in there now instead of in his water. Choi is sitting across from him, slowly signing the end of a sentence. Taemin’s brows furrow, teeth between his bottom lip.

“That’s… please be quiet?” he says, tone raising uncertainly at the end. Choi shakes their head; Jonghyun nuzzles Taemin’s shoulder, messing up his shower-damp hair.

“Don’t be so loud,” he corrects. “Like, quieter, but you don’t have to be completely silent.”

“Oh,” Taemin says, and oh, Jinki thinks. Okay. They’re teaching Taemin some of the general important things first. Good idea. He slips his shoes off and makes his way around them, stepping carefully over the soft bedding. He waves pleasantly when the other three look up at him and Key, then sits himself down comfortably next to Jonghyun. Key takes a seat on Taemin’s other side and pulls another pillow from the couch to hold in their arms.

“Hi,�� Taemin says quietly.

“Hi,” Jinki mumbles back. He looks at the little food tray between the four of them and Choi and sees two crackers and half of Taemin’s sandwich left. Well. At least he ate some. He reaches forward slowly and kind of just takes a cracker when no one moves to stop him.

“Feeling better?” Key asks. Taemin opens his mouth, shakes his head, shrugs, and closes it with a slow breath.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t think... I’m feeling anything... except tired.” He sips his tea with his straw and makes a little noise when a few drips fall out and onto his shirt. Jinki puts his chin on Jonghyun’s shoulder thoughtfully. Makes sense, he guesses. A pity that once he has a night’s rest it’ll be the day that his parents find out. His anxiety will tire him out again immediately. At least right now, he might be able to sleep through the trip to Key and Choi’s place and avoid another ride with a rumbly tummy.

“Um… Kibummie?” Taemin asks. “And, Choi?” His voice is muffled; when Jinki looks up, he’s biting the rim of his mug, staring inside instead of at the two he’s trying to speak to. “Um,” he says again. “Do you think… maybe… can we spend the night here?” he asks. “Please?” His eyes are big when he peeps up. Jinki’s own eyes widen too at the question.

“Really?” he asks. “I thought you wanted to get as far away as soon as possible.” That was the plan, has been the plan from the start. Get Taemin, a quick lunch here, and then send him off to live even further away from his parents. To add another two and a half hours to the hour and a half between them and here.

“I know, but,” Taemin says, voice tight. “I can't--I need.” He puts his mug down and takes Jonghyun’s hand in one hand and Key’s hand in the other. “I need both of you,” he whispers into his knees. Key lifts their free hand to run soothingly through his hair. “And… you two. Too.” Taemin adds. He looks between Jinki and Choi pleadingly. “Just… just for tonight,” he says. He sounds almost desperate but Jinki is already shrugging and nodding. Whatever makes Taemin feel the best. Jonghyun nods also.

“It’s kind of late, anyway,” he says. “It might be dark before you get home.” He gestures out of the window at the perfectly sunny afternoon; Jinki muffles a snort into his shoulder. Even with his night driving phobia that’s kind of pushing it.

“Before six thirty?” Kibum asks flatly.

Choi throws their crumpled up napkin at their head.

“Hey--what?” Key hisses, grabbing it and chucking it back at them. “I wasn’t telling him no,” they grumble. “Just, like, if you’re gonna come up with a bullshit excuse then at least put some effort into it.” Choi just smirks at them and fakes throwing the napkin again. Key winces, then glares. Their annoyed half growl is interrupted by Taemin speaking.

“So,” he says. “You’ll stay here?” His voice shakes just a touch, so little that Jinki barely caught it. Key takes their annoyed glare away from Choi, softening it into a reassuring nod.

“Yeah,” they say. “We’ll stay here. With you.”

“With me,” Taemin repeats. Jinki nods even though no one is looking. With him. The babe of ages, the MVP.

“A slumber party,” Jonghyun gasps softly. He claps his little hands together with bright eyes. “Videogames and movies and pizza.” He bounces a little bit on the pillows; Jinki smiles, amused, but also sighs because he has to be the one to remind Jonghyun of the bad news.

“The gluten-free pizza place closed down last month, remember?” he says. There is no deliverable pizza for Jonghyun’s poor tum. Jonghyun’s bouncing immediately stops.

“Oh,” he says, and deflates against Taemin’s side. “Fuck.”

“I can make quesadillas,” Key says. “With… whatever ingredients you two have.” They lean forward so they can peer at Jonghyun around Taemin. Jonghyun gasps loudly and starts bouncing again.

“Videogames and movies and quesadillas,” he chirps, clapping softly.

“God, you’re so cute,” Taemin breathes. He turns to wrap his arms around Jonghyun’s shoulders and squeeze him tight enough to make him squeak and giggle. Jinki smiles as he watches Jonghyun nuzzle the side of Taemin’s head. They’re both cute. And after a moment, Taemin’s tight squeeze turns into more of a relaxed hold, fingers pressing just into the back of Jonghyun’s shirt. Jinki hears the faintest little kissie noises from Jonghyun’s neck and more mumbled words that he can’t catch. What he does catch is the tone: low and flattering, just a touch amused. It puts some of his worries at ease.

Right now, in this moment, Taemin is feeling okay enough to smile and hold his babe and murmur love into his skin. It won’t last, but it’s the first time since yesterday, and that’s a start.

The rest of the night goes well and simple. Jonghyun clambers across the floor first to look through their games and pick out a cute multiplayer one. Taemin takes the other half of his sandwich to nibble on before Choi takes the dishes away to wash. When they get back, they drape themself over the couch behind everyone and leave a hand dangling off of the edge. When Key cocks a brow and asks if it’s for Jonghyun to hold or for someone to put a controller into, they smirk and sign “both.”

They rotate through the game for a few hours that feel like minutes, and another half hour that feels like a day after it starts getting boring. It’s then that Key just gets up and heads to the kitchen, mumbling something about quesadillas that has Jonghyun bright and bouncy again. Jinki watches both of them go, then Taemin and Choi both lazily staring at the ceiling, and decides that now is as good a time as ever to take a shower.

He gets back conveniently just in time to steal a fresh cut slice of cheesy goodness as soon as Key puts the plate on the table. Nice. He has it an inch from his mouth when a hand closes around his wrist and Jonghyun’s pouty face appears in front of him.

“Hey,” he whines. “That’s mine.” He tugs weakly at Jinki’s wrist with his usual puppy eyes and Jinki finds himself just smiling fondly.

“I wasn't thinking, sorry,” he says. It’s Jonghyun’s only OCD thing that actually affects other people; he has to have the first bite of something or else he can’t eat comfortably. Jonghyun wiggles, a whiny noise in the back of his throat, and Jinki surrenders his slice easily. He takes the second slice of dinner and pats Jonghyun’s butt to make him smile.

“Hey, go grab Choi and Taem,” Key tells them. “And get a napkin or something, holy shit.” They flap a hand distractedly between them and turn back to the stove where Jinki can see that they have a second quesadilla already almost done in a second pan. What the fuck.

“What is it with those two and multitasking in the kitchen,” he mutters to Jonghyun as they grab napkins and leave the room. First Choi, now Key both using two burners at once. It’s so extra. Jinki can’t even pour himself a drink and watch the stove at the same time without anything burning. Jonghyun shrugs back, just as clueless as he is. Jinki hums thoughtfully. Obviously neither of them have their lives as together as they thought.

In the living room, Choi and Taemin are hunched over the movie box. Jinki wiggles to a sit next to Taemin, Jonghyun getting to his knees on Choi’s other side.

“Dinner’s ready,” Jinki says, wiggling his napkin. Taemin gasps softly and Jonghyun snatches his own napkin away from Choi’s questing hand with a little whine.

“Give us another minute,” Taemin mumbles. “We’re narrowing it down.” He gestures to the little group of movies laid out next to each other on the tv cabinet. Cars, Charlie’s Angels, The Road to El Dorado, and Chicago… an interesting set of choices.

“How did we get down to all of these?” he asks blankly. He can’t find a similarity between them. Taemin shrugs and pats the space in front of Choi’s knee.

“They’re picking, mostly,” he says. Jinki glances at them; they quickly sign “no parents”  over Taemin’s head with a pointed look. Jinki understands immediately and nods his approval.

“Well,” he says. “I vote for El Dorado, if that matters.” He loves Miguel. He stands up and pokes Taemin’s cheek to remind him that it’s dinnertime before he scoots back into the kitchen. There, he struggles to both eat his first slice and help Key set up the rest of the table with one hand. He should’ve just waited five minutes before getting all grabby at the food.

“This would be easier if you had just waited, like, five minutes for everything to be ready first,” Key tells him, confirming his thought. Their little cocked brow is entirely unamusing to Jinki and he humphs as he takes a big, defiant bite of his slice.

That just makes it harder to do things.

Jonghyun comes in to help soon, followed closely by the other two. Taemin pours everyone drinks with hands that only shake a little bit and when they all finally sit around the table, he has the tiniest smile. Jinki thinks it feels a little awkward; this table isn’t meant for five people and it feels like the same generic family dinners he had for twenty-two years before he moved out. But, whatever. He likes these four much more and Taemin’s comfort is what’s most important to him right now anyway.

“So…,” Jonghyun says after a minute. He sips his milk with his pinky out and props his chin in his hand. “Do all of you lovely babes wanna go out to breakfast tomorrow?” he asks. He flutters his lashes too, for added effect that only makes Choi snort.

“I think… a breakfast date would be good,” Taemin says quietly. He’s picking slowly at a small slice of quesadilla, but looks hopeful at the thought of a diner meal. Maybe he’ll be feeling better about eating tomorrow.

“I’m down for it,” Jinki shrugs. His lukewarm leftover omelette from this morning has had him kind of craving a fresh served breakfast all day. Choi nods simply and Key agrees a moment after, and Jonghyun beams.

“Alright,” he says happily. “And then, after, you three can go home.” He links his arm with Taemin’s and shakes him gently. Jinki raises his brows, impressed. That was smooth, bringing up a heavy plan right after the pep of a light one. Taemin still hesitates, still takes a deep, shaky breath, but he nods with a small smile very quickly after.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I think… straight from the diner. Because. If we stop back here after, like. You all know I’ll procrastinate for three more hours.” His smile twitches feebly and he places his quesadilla slice down on his plate. Jonghyun squeezes him comfortingly.

“Good idea,” he hums, and presses the tiniest of kisses to Taemin’s cheek.

“Mm. Thanks,” Taemin says. Jinki catches the way he catches Jonghyun’s elbow when he tries to pull his arm back. Jonghyun stays, and scoots his chair an inch closer. Taemin reaches a small hand out for Key’s elbow as well and rubs his thumb over their skin.

“How are you supposed to eat if you’re holding both of us?” Key asks, smiling lazily at him and wiggling their arm. Taemin opens his mouth, hesitates, and then lets his head fall on Jonghyun’s shoulder.

“Feed me,” he demands, nuzzling the top of his head into Jonghyun’s neck obnoxiously. Jinki snorts; so do Choi and Jonghyun. Jonghyun pushes Taemin’s head back up and pokes his cheek away.

“You’re gross,” he mumbles.

“Here, Taem,” Key says, already holding up Taemin’s quesadilla slice to his mouth. Taemin takes a second to stick his tongue out at Jonghyun before he takes a tiny nibble and nuzzles gently into the hand Key ruffles through his hair a moment later.

“You’re all gross,” Jinki mumbles, but there’s nothing with fondness in his voice as he watches the three of them. They’re cute.

And then they start getting really cute, both of them feeding Taemin both food and little kisses, all sappy smiles and soft blushes, and Jinki’s fondness turns into exasperation and uncomfort.

“Alright, now you’re actually being gross,” he says, shaking his head as he finishes his last slice and stands up. His repulsion can’t handle this. He washes his dishes and ignores their little grumbles in favor of taking Choi’s plate as well. Then he takes Choi with him back to Jonghyun’s bed to set up the movie Taemin picked. It’s not El Dorado, which disappoints him, but whatever. He’s pretty tired anyway; it’s barely passed nine but his long day is catching up to him.

The other three join them before long, Jonghyun laying down next to Jinki, then Taemin next to him, and then Key next to him. Choi takes up their one-hand-dangling position on couch again. They start the movie and Jinki pulls a thin sheet over himself, tugging some of Jonghyun’s extra pillows close to nestle into.

It’s not long before his eyes are drooping shut. The low volume of the movie fades in and out, sounding distant and muffled one moment and then clear and crisp the next as his brain drifts between sleep and wakefulness. Curled up on his side, he clings to the pillow under his chin, glad to be finally drifting off, until there’s sudden rustling and grumbling from behind him and some words that he can barely make out in Taemin’s voice:

“Mmgh. Too stuffy.”

And then more rustling, and then there are hands wrapping around his side and a body pressing up against his back and soft lips dropping kisses onto his neck as Jonghyun switches to hold him close instead. Jinki grumbles himself, wiggling and rolling onto his back to shake him off. That earns him a quiet, apologetic noise.

“Too ro?” Jonghyun asks quietly. Jinki shakes his head, pats Jonghyun’s hand.

“Too tight,” he mumbles.

“Oh,” Jonghyun says, and then giggles. “Sorry, bun,” he says, and slips his arm over Jinki’s waist again. He’s much gentler now and Jinki sighs contentedly as he nuzzles back into his pillow.

This time when he starts drifting in and out of consciousness, he makes it all the way there uninterrupted and falls asleep with Jonghyun’s head on his chest.