F I C J A R

Elllllo, so this is in sugar au, the 3rd part, after this part and this part. It’s about them meeting in person for the first time since the break up at the Christmas Party Jongho have thrown for years. It’s the first one they won’t be going to together.

w/c:2.5 k, I hope you like it~

There were various tiny boxes of Christmas cards, each one different than the next. Jonghyun was frowning as he looked over them as if he wasn’t quite sure which one to pick. Minho was looking at him fondly, and Jinki was just shaking his head at them both. Sometimes their love made his teeth hurt it was so sweet. He picked up the list of names sitting on the cushion by Jonghyun and followed down the list with his finger for the next name. “You know, I feel like a child of yours, being added onto your Christmas cards like this.”

“Child? No.” Minho hummed, “Adoptive bf yes.”

“Like y’all have any room for anyone else in your hearts.” Jinki scrunched up his nose before bending down to sign the card. The envelope was licked and pressed closed, and one of the clock stamps Jonghyun just had to have was put in the top corner. After putting the address correctly on the front he called out, “Min, Catch.”

The envelope was caught between his palms and slid into the stack of them in the box by his feet. “We should have adopted you long ago. You’re so much quicker than him.”

“Hey!” Jonghyun protested, finally looking up from his searching, “Picking the right card is serious business.”

“Uh huh.” Minho and Jinki echoed as they both reached for the list. Minho lets go with a small smile and Jinki beamed over at him.

“I’m supposed to be getting you to sleep, remember?” Jonghyun sounds amused, and Taemin lets his body hit the sheets before huffing out a sigh.

5. one night stand and falling pregnant au

“But you’re a guy..” Lee Jinki tries to rub sleep from his small eyes, hair a frizzy mess and vision awful without glasses on at this time of the day. It’s early weekend, after a night of heavy drinking and he did not expect a guy he knows from uni on his doorstep with a bad joke. It’s just too early.

“I’m not kidding around.”

“Are you sure, cause your jokes are bad and this is, well, bad.”

“Why did I even sleep with you?”

Jinki leans even heavier into the wall, bathrobe played with as his crinkly-eyed, cheek grin beams. Minho hides his face in a palm, looking away. Jinki recalls charming his way into Choi Minho’s life. It was easy.

“This isn’t a joke. You think a doctor would be in on it too?” Minho holds up the tiny, grainy ultrasound picture again.

“You said yourself you are a guy,” which Jinki doesn’t hold any ill feelings towards. He himself was a late bloomer and still can’t pin down his own sexuality.

“With a vagina and all the parts, remember?”

Jinki holds up hands defensively. How could he forget. It was a bit of a big surprise. Not a sprung on during sex sort of surprise, but a night of drinking lead to the confession, and everything made a lot more sense. Like decent looking pecs are actual small bound breasts. It made the sex unforgettable, in Jinki’s opinion, but Minho’s lack of contact with him after and avoiding on campus had him sure it wasn’t likewise.

“You said I could cum inside.”

It’s still cute when Minho gets huffin and puffin. Jinki feels too hungover to deal with the resurfacing that he likes Minho more than he thinks it the other way around.

“I thought my T would make it okay!”

Jinki isn’t trans or on hormones but his own, so he has nothing to add.

“Jinki hyung, I’m telling you I’m pregnant with your baby–do you understand?”

Jinki squints small eyes and rubs his head.

“You are going to be a father.”

“…and you too~.”

Jinki is pleased he has Minho speechless. It’s Lee Jinki’s talent. As Minho starts to cry though, Jinki pushes off the wall, eyes wide, trying become more alert. He cups Minho’s chubby cheeks, feeling the slight stubble and now close enough to see the distress in big, pretty eyes. Jinki squishing cheeks, voice a hum as he asks the younger not to cry.

“I don’t want to do this alone..” Minho’s voice cracks in a quiver, carrying a weight Jinki hasn’t thought about as deeply as he should have. It must have been scary coming out and beginning a transition. How much support has Minho had? “..please…”

“I’m really hungover and I’m not sure if this is real life yet, but I won’t make you do anything alone. Minho ya.”

Mission S5001: Operation Hive

Pairing: OT5, Platonic Genre: Action, Comedy, Angst Rating: PG-15 for language and violence Summary: SHINee as a Special Force Unit called Sigma 5. They specialize in black ops missions. So basically the boys being badasses. 

Believe it or not this was not inspired by DOTS. This was inspired by my awe at SHINee’s live performances. I had a thought that SHINee were like live performance specialists. The word “specialist” automatically associated itself with “operative”, which brought to my mind black ops missions and voila the SIGMA 5 au was born. 

The following people suffered through my first draft: @jinkieskinkijinki, @jinkir, @happyshawol, @itsonewday, @onthighsbelongtotaemin and @jinkirella. Thank you so much for lending me your time and input!

       The humid jungle air hummed with insect life. The constant flutters and clicks played a background noise that lulled the inhabitants of the armed compound to sleep. Shadows ghosting around the arms warehouse, hid their treads behind the local wildlife’s nightly serenade.

       The five member special ops unit  was deployed to raze an arms warehouse to the ground. Alejandro Montes aka El Rey owned one of the biggest arms dealing ring in South and Central America. Not only was he supplying arms to the Latin American guerrillas; he was now expanding to ISIS and the Pakistani extremists, after taking out the region’s arms main man; Adir Dekel.

       The jungle compound was comprised of 5 structures: a main building for Alejandro when he visited, and for his segundo, lodgings for the underlings, a sort of mess hall that housed the kitchen and doubled as the women’s quarters. The two largest buildings were the warehouses. Intel said, one of the structures housed armaments from handguns to rocket launchers. The second warehouse housed vehicles and what NATO is fearing the start of a nuclear assembly line.

       The last item in Alejandro’s warehouse effectively put him on the radar. The stolen Plutonium from India two weeks ago, sealed the arms dealer’s place on the ‘peacekeeping’ hitlist. Intel has it that the Plutonium is in Alejandro’s hands, but they couldn’t prove it without exposing covert operations in central america their Latin allies would not be happy to hear about. And to further complicate the issue, Alejandro has enough clout with his government, that an outright assassination was out of the question.

       So the powers that be decided that the best course of action was to burn El Rey’s warehouse down and make sure the materials for nuclear warheads didn’t make their way into the hands of ISIS or the Pakistani rebel groups.

       Jinki had been rigging explosives around the second warehouse when he stumbled on one of the guards on top of a crying woman, helplessly thrashing against him. Jinki incapacitated the guard with a pistol to the base of the skull.

       The woman, too scared to recognize help, kept on screaming. Thrashing away from Jinki’s helping hands; crashing against a metal display table, upending the toolbox sitting on top of it. The metal clanging reverberated through the cavernous space. Jinki had no choice but to clip the woman under the chin and slung her inert form over his shoulder.

Jonghyun’s letters stop coming in May.

Kibum fears the worst.

Each time the doorbell chimes, each time the phone rings, Kibum’s heart sinks into the pot of his stomach. He should have faith in Jonghyun, but when your boyfriend is deployed in a foreign country and his weekly letters stop, it’s hard to see the positives.

Kibum hates the war. Everyone hates the war, but Kibum especially does. He hates that it tore Jonghyun away from him. He hates that it was Jonghyun whose name was chosen in the draft and not his. He hates that the war is a thousand miles away and doesn’t affect his every day life aside from the news reports. He can still shop, eat, live while his boyfriend is risking his life on the front lines in some stupid war that he has no part in. He absolutely hates it.

Kibum stares at the blank television screen, crinkling Jonghyun’s last letter in his hands. It’s the middle of June now, and the letter is the last correspondence he has with Jonghyun.

Dear Kibum (read as beautiful),

I know you miss me. I wish you’d stop prefacing your letters with that. Believe me, I miss you too. More than anything in this world. I think it’s worse when I get lonely. It’s funny, how lonely war feels.

We got new boots yesterday. I never thought new shoes would make me so happy. Word on the street is we’re getting some little care pakages. That’d be nice. I want something to remind me of home. I want your cooking. Do you think you could sneak that in your next letter? keke

On the topic of sending things to me, I want a picture in your next letter. Give me one of those cute Polaroids you take. I want a big, cheesy smile. I had one that I keep in my pocket, but it’s starting to get ruined now. Maybe I kiss it too much when I really miss you… You know I’ll make you a checklist.

I love you, Kibum. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Jonghyun

Kibum wishes his response was more meaningful now.

Kibum’s lip wobbles as he wills himself not to cry. Jonghyun doesn’t like to see him cry.

Before the tears can fall, he turns on the television as a distraction. It’s almost six o'clock and time for the news report. Kibum is numb to the awful stories. He hopes he can spot Jonghyun when they cut to a camera shot of the front lines. He never does.

Kibum is too absorbed with the report to hear the front door creak open. Heavy footsteps through the foyer go unheard.

Suddenly, there’s an envelope sitting in Kibum’s lap. He blinks a few times, contemplating snatching the letter and turning to see who is there with him. He decides to turn.

Jonghyun is there, clad in fatigues.

Kibum can’t get the words out. He has so much to say.

“J-Jo–”

Jonghyun hugs him first, tight. “I’m sorry.”

Kibum breaks down, sobbing against Jonghyun’s shoulder. “I thought you were dead!” he croaks. “Every– every day, I waited for them to call me and tell me you were dead. I was terrified to get the mail because I kept thinking the next envelope I’d get would be with your dog tags! Do you understand what living like that is like?”

“I had a breakdown,” Jonghyun whispers as if he hadn’t heard anything. “I couldn’t handle it anymore. I couldn’t write you. You’d know how scared I was.”

I haven’t written in forever wOW

.

.

In which Jongyu are included in a sea of teen angst.

.

“Jjong?”

The boy’s caramel eyes shot up to find another pair staring back at him.

Lee Jinki.

Jonghyun always had thought he was handsome, especially now. He wore a freshly ironed suit and a crisp, navy blue bowtie. His hair was smoothly swept to the side. His plump cheeks were as cute as ever.

Yes; for an upperclassmen, Lee Jinki was extremely attractive.

He always saw him in the hallway, practically skipping to what seemed like every class. He always had a smile plastered across his face, and chattered with anyone and everyone. 

It was surprising to Jonghyun that Jinki even knew his name; they never really spoke, besides casual greetings during passing periods.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” Jinki asked kindly.

Jonghyun could feel his cheeks flare up. 

Why would he ever want to sit with me? I’m a lonely wallflower, I’m not talkative or popular or handsome…

“S-sure.” he finally stuttered. 

The intruder smiled warmly and took a seat on the floor next to him while gazing at the ocean of teen angst in front of them.

“I’m not a very good dancer,” he chuckled, bemused, “I’m really stiff.”

“Y-yeah, me too.”

He felt like his mouth was glued shut; none of the things he wanted to say could escape into Jinki’s ears. His heart ached while catching glimpses of his acquaintance. How could someone be so effortlessly good looking? It bewildered him.

“You know who’s really good at dancing though?” Jinki now noted, turning towards Jonghyun, “Lee Taemin.” He pointed towards a large crowd in the very middle of the shining gym floor, where a scrawny boy was dancing the night away. 

“He’s really good. Everyone goes crazy for him.” he smirked. 

“How ‘bout you? Do you go crazy for him?” Jonghyun finally rebutted, while adding another shade of blush over his already rosy face. 

Jinki’s eyes quickly darted to his shoes.

“N-no, actually,” a deep, awkward laugh erupted from his lips, “I have my eyes on someone else.”

Jonghyun’s mind went blank.

He has his eyes on someone else.

His eyes are on someone else.

The two soon developed a pregnant silence around them, and only payed attention to the pounding music filling the room. 

Jonghyun’s heart began to pound in sadness and disappointment. Of course Jinki hadn’t told him who was his object of his affection, yet he had a gut feeling it wasn’t him.

They barely even spoke to one another before tonight.

“Did you come with anyone tonight, Jjong?” the other asked blankly.

The caramel-eyed boy only shook his head slowly. 

“I’m a loner.” he mumbled.

“Me too.”

He thought he had imagined it, but when Jonghyun looked down, he saw Jinki’s small pinky finger beginning to intertwine with his own.

No words were exchanged between the two, yet it seemed that they had shared their entire life stories in one moment as the rest of their palms smoothly connected together. Jinki’s thumb even began to stroke the back of Jonghyun’s hand with his thumb.

Both hearts were exploding at once; not one word was uttered, and not one glance was shared.

I also love jongyu <3 Sorry this is so cheesy and that it took forever!!!

Nobody liked Jonghyun. Kibum can’t understand why.

Sure, Jonghyun dyed his hair and had too many piercings for the school’s dress code. So did Kibum, but that didn’t label him as “bad news”.

Jonghyun didn’t do drugs or drink. Sometimes he smoked a cigarette beneath the bleachers instead of going to math class, but Kibum knew why. Jonghyun didn’t have the perfect home life – his father is never home and drunk when he was, and his mother is an untreated schizophrenic – but no one took the time to learn this about Jonghyun and simply deemed him “bad news”. Even the school counsellors wouldn’t listen to Jonghyun. If they had, years ago when Jonghyun needed it, perhaps he wouldn’t be the outcast at school.

Sometimes when Jonghyun smokes outside, Kibum joins him. Jonghyun offers him a cigarette every time, and Kibum politely declines every time. He refused to judge Jonghyun for puffing away, but he wouldn’t do it himself.

“I’m going to live with my sister,” Jonghyun says when the silence drags on for too long. “I’m moving my stuff to her place this weekend.”

Kibum licks his lips. “Does she live close?”

“Sort of,” he says. “It’s about twenty minutes away. I’m going to take the bus here. I don’t want to change schools so close to graduation.”

“…Are you going to be happy with her?”

Jonghyun nods after a few beats. “I hope so.”

Kibum sucks in a breath and wraps his arms tightly around Jonghyun. Everyone warns Kibum that Jonghyun is just bad news, but none of those people see Jonghyun when he’s weak. They choose not to pay attention to the boy with the broken home simply because he didn’t fit the norm.

“I don’t want to lose the one friend I have,” Jonghyun adds after another second.

Kibum’s heart clenches. “I’m more than your friend,” Kibum reminds him gently, running his fingers down his back. “I just… really, really hope that you’re going to be happier with your sister, Jonghyun. You deserve to not be afraid to go home after class.”

“Am I still allowed to stay over your place sometimes?”

So I was driving home from my grandma’s and this came to me on my drive. 

And it’s het!onho, Minjung loves roller derby, and Jinki is her worried yet supportive love? 

The third part of [x] and [x] and I guess you could read this without those… but just read those? lol 

“Minjung you know you need to talk with them,” Jinki’s soft voice called from the kitchen. 

She whined, “But there’s that big match coming up and they need me.” 

She could hear the man sigh from the other room, and a pout formed on her face. She knew he was right, but her stomach bubbled up just thinking about telling her team she couldn’t participate for a while. She heard his footsteps just before she felt the warm hands of his moving over her shoulders as his lips pressed to her neck. His hands stopped when his palm was flat against her stomach, “You have to be careful now Baby, and while I have every cell in me supporting what you enjoy, I can’t think about you and our little one getting hurt.” 

“I know Jinki, I just.. I don’t know how to tell them.” 

Jinki smiled against her neck, “I’ll go with you today and you can tell them at practice, maybe we can see if you can be a coach or something. Would you like that?” 

Minjung twisted a little to look at him shocked, “You’d let me coach?” 

He chuckled as he kissed her nose. “The game makes you happy Baby. I was going to take you to watch all the matches anyway.” 

His theory was proven when he heard a grunt and felt the polaroid he was holding onto for dear life being plucked out of his hands.

“What’s his name?”

Minho opened his eyes slowly, the sun reflecting off of the water a little too bright. He glanced over to Jonghyun’s hands.

“I don’t know.”

Jonghyun tilted his head back onto the chain link fence behind them. “You don’t know? Or you didn’t ask.”

He’d asked.

The beachtown they were at was a speciality resort–total anonymity as a rule–sharing was only allowed through trust and consent. Otherwise people went by their first initials. Minho was M, Taemin had been T, and Jonghyun, J until a mishap at the ferris wheel had them all revealing their first names over gut busting laughter. There had been a woman at a seashell shack who went by the name A and a pair of lovers who went by Y and Y.

Minho’s gazed shifted to the polaroid. “O,” he thought.

People visited to get away, to be someone else for a weekend, to leave all of their troubles behind. Minho had come to escape the harsh demands of sports journalism. Taemin, because he would soon set off on a grueling tour and Jonghyun had come to get over his cold feet.

O…

O had come to be relieve himself, temporarily, of the pressures of taking over his father’s company, he’d said. His dream was to sing; his father wanted him in mergers and acquisitions. They’d met one night on the fishing pier. It was O’s voice that had him drifting down the wooden planked walkway, the voice, deep and rich–it seeped into his bones, under his skin, made him feel warm, warmer than he’d felt in years. They’d spent the entire night talking, even taking their conversation from the pier to the beach. O held his shoes in one hand and Minho’s hand in the other. Minho had draped his jacket over him when it got chilly. O blew in his eye when a piece of sand got caught there.

O had given him a picture from a magazine article, just the picture, to prove that he really was the son of a chaebol. Minho didn’t have a picture for him so instead of that he tried something different. Minho thought a night under the stars, baring your soul to a stranger was enough to exchange names, so he gave O his…but…

“I asked,” Minho said quietly, looking back over the water.

“Ouch,” Jonghyun muttered. “But that’s the glory of this place. On Monday you’ll be back in your original "skin”. Shapeshifting is only temporary…we always have to return to what means the most.

Minho grunted. He didn’t have anything back home that meant the most. All he had was an empty apartment, a job that demanded too much of him, wanted their pounds of flesh too quickly. He had his family, he adored them but…he wanted…

“Stop looking so down. Try the docks. The first ferry leaves in fifteen minutes. Maybe you can catch your Sandy, Danny.”

xxx

The pier wasn’t far but with a festival in town, it was crowded. He maneuvered through the throng thinking maybe if he stood at loading zone he could find him easier.

“Hey! Watch out!”

Minho didn’t realize what his shoulder had checked was a person and he turned around quickly to apologize.

“Oh, it’s you.” The anger bled from the man’s voice, the richness and soft warmth quickly taking over. “Figured I’d never see you again.”

“Yeah…” Minho scratched the back of his head. “I thought that too. I thought and thought about it and I don’t like it. I didn’t like the fact that I would never see you again. So, I want to see you. I want to see you outside of this place. I want to know the real you.”

O frowned. “You met the real me.”

“How could I have if I don’t know your real name? Can I have your real name?”

O’s eyes narrowed and he began to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. “I…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Minho wasn’t deterred. He didn’t have anything back at home waiting for him, truly waiting for him. He didn’t like to think of his past, so he concentrated on his future. O was in his path for a reason. He just wanted to feel that warmth again. “How did you feel when I gave you my name?”

O looked away, his cheeks tinting red. “I…”

Minho boldly grabbed his hand, threaded his fingers in between the grooves of O’s. “I may not have your name but that picture you gave me? It made me feel good. Like…I ’d done something right, for once. That I was supposed to come here.”

“Minho…” O looked left and then he looked right before he slowly removed his hand from Minho’s. “I’m sorry but I can’t give you my name–”

Minho’s shoulders slumped.

“–here. But…” O grabbed Minho’s hand again. He dug in his pockets and withdrew a pen. “It felt like summer loving so writing my number on your palm feels right…”

xxx

Minho waited exactly two weeks before he contemplated calling. A million reasons why O didn’t trust Minho with his name ran through his head and he wondered if O was telling the absolute truth. Maybe he wasn’t on the island to ease his mind, maybe he was running from something or someone. Did Minho want to get involved in that?

If it meant feeling warmth again… then…then yes.

He grabbed his phone and punched in the numbers he’d memorized on his trip home.

Ring. Ring. Ri–

“Hello, this is Lee Jinki.”

Lee Jinki. His name was Lee Jinki.

“Uh…hi Jinki…this is Minho.”

There was silence on the line before a warm chuckle and a soft sigh.  

Jinki puffs on his electronic cigarette while Minho reads quietly beside him on the couch. The whole home seems particularly silent, and Jinki loves it. He closes his eyes, head leaned back on the couch and cigarette forgotten a moment.

Once Minho is tampering with his cell, surely chatting it up with friends he should be with rather than sitting here reading, Jinki bumps his knee to Minho’s. Eyes still closed, he smiles and takes a another drag from the cigarette. Jinki waits now, and it’s not long before there’s a silent tap back. In his mind’s eye, he can see Minho’s sweet smile, can hear the laughter that isn’t really there today.

It’s still so quiet. Somehow, the two communicate the best with each other in such a way. No cameras or screaming fans, no need to play roles.

Jinki bumps his knee back a little harder, this time giggling.

Minho returns it, voice a whiny laugh.

Jinki opens his eyes to find Minho watching him closely, like the younger often does, and he could have been the whole time Jinki had laid back with eyes closed. Some sort of adoration and need for his attention is behind the gaze. It’s flattering, Jinki thinks, and the jokester in him can’t help put push buttons, because it’s easier than looking at the situation seriously. It’s a scary thought someone could look at him like that.

So with that habit, Jinki leans over to blow heavy vapors into Minho’s small face, eyes crinkled into a smile. Minho scoots closer with a cutely crinkled nose, and there’s no need to, no one to show off for. Minho leans into Jinki, speaking quietly as he holds his book up. “Hyung, listen to this..”

Minho reads out loud while Jinki smokes to relaxation. Fingers and hands brush gently together, showing a silent connection and need for each other just to be there without strings attached.

Jinki favors these moments together overall.

———

idk what this is, and it seems like it ended up not quite the prompt. ;; Sorry.

———

Onew lets his hand rest on the small of Minho’s back, caressing tonight’s costume over where he knows the other’s dimples would be. Outside, on stage, the announcers are joking and laughing with the audience. Five empty stools stand lined up on the sets and the spotlights go wild as hundreds of young girls applaud any passing mention of “SHINee”.

“How’s your back?” he asks the other, leaning his chin on the pips of Minho’s coat, not really minding the steel buckle digging into his skin. Last week there had been complaints about pulled muscles and strained joints; this time the choreography was tougher than before and injuries were to be expected. His hand rubs a comforting circle around itself, concern rolling around between their bodies until he feels Minho sigh out peaceably, nodding a little in the direction of the presenters.

Onew grins, craning up and whispering. “So I can give you a little present tonight?” he cracks his staple dirty joke and laughs soundlessly lest one of the nearby mics pick it up. Someone elbows him and he turns to frown at the idiot, only to find Key righting his hair for the millionth time in that same minute, humming one of their songs tunelessly to earn cringed noses. 

Minho turns and blinks expressionlessly, that involuntary pout making him look more like a little boy than anything. Onew has to restrain himself from ruffling his dongsaeng’s hair in affection. “Present?” the other asks, a small smile growing on his glossed lips. “Like a coupon to that nice Thai massage parlor?” he asks. “You said Thai massages are good. Right? Or the new volume of Naruto? I’ve really been wanting to read it… Jonghyun hyung took my copy home, now I’m never going to see it again. Ah I really want to know what happened to Sasuke…”

Onew raises his eyebrows, innuendo clearly lost on the other. “Do you want me get you those things?” he inquires, hand now becoming an arm as it wraps around Minho’s slender waist. “I mean, I was planning something bigger, but yeah, if you want a manhwa I can—”

“No,” Minho shakes his head. “I’m sure whatever you gift me will be better than anything I’d ask for~” he compliments, then smiles sweetly, taking Onew’s breath away. If they had more time and lesser crew-members around them, he would lean up and kiss the other. But that might have to wait.

for fede!

(would like to point out that this is 4.75k and it should not have been and that is my fault but i like to pretend it’s fede’s because i can. the only thing i had in mind when writing was i wanted backhugs & biting and then this happened. also this fic is a tease, both to readers and to me and did i set it up so i can continue on with it? yes! will i? probably!

i like this verse a lot. but i still curse you fede. also i’m just calling these gift fics now so i don’t feel so bad about how horribly behind i am.)