THE BABY MILL [[{SHINee}]]

THE BABY MILL [[37]] BIOPSY

            Since the first visit Key had seen his donor once more. It had felt like an eternity since their last meeting, but only because the solidarity was messing with him. Without TaeMin in the room he had nothing to pass the time; there was nothing to keep his interest. Every second wasted in his bed was consumed by thoughts of the past and the boy with the blonde hair and green eyes.

            The other guy, MinHo, he’d told him to be patient. Patient for what, though? The two had been so silent that Key had given up on speaking. Their presence was welcomed nonetheless, but he hated how questions were still left unanswered. They were acting exactly like the workers would when they took them out of their rooms on the rare occasion.

            Key tried to change sides so he wouldn’t have to stare at TaeMin’s empty bed again. No one had even bothered to change the sheets yet. The skin on Key’s back was so tender, though, that the slightest movement irritated it. He could almost feel a chunk of his body being gouged out of him. So many days confined to a bed, it was only normal that he have the disfiguring abrasions. It smelled almost as rotten as he felt.

            Someone had said – from what he could remember anyway – something about a third degree something… He hadn’t been able to hold on to the terminology they’d used.

            Everything was sluggish in his body. Ever since he’d come back from his examination…

            JongHyun… During the check up he’d thought of him, wishing that he was there with him. It didn’t matter that they were strangers. He was lucky enough to have found another boy in the institution. Key wanted to keep JongHyun as much as he wanted to keep his career. Both were situated at opposite sides of the spectrum he was thinking of, but none of that mattered… Not in here.

            He wanted to hear his donor speak, touch his skin, examine his behaviours. He craved to figure out the story behind the face. MinHo said he didn’t talk… Key knew better. At one time in his life he had uttered words and he promised himself to get those words spoken again. Somehow… If only for his selfish needs.

            When would they next come…?

            Key wished he knew. As he raised hi bottom away from the mattress, taking extra care to not knock any of the red spots on his body, and rolled to his side, he imagined their future interactions with each other.

            Half way through the fantasy, between a fit of coughing and a dramatized conversation with his donor, MinHo slipped out of the equation. He vanished from the ex-super model’s mind. Only JongHyun survived his selection process, sticking around like a puppy desperate to play with its new friend…

            When would he come back…?

            Questions, questions, and no answers. Frustrating as it was it unconsciously ravished enough of Key’s energy to him to tumble into a nap. The burning in his calves and lower back hibernated in his thought chamber and he fell… Into a pile of pillows drizzled in sleeping powder, awaking only when a hand brushed stray strands of hair from his clammy face.

            Air tickled his forehead, the caressing touch continuing its business on his neck… The padded urface of someone’s thumb stroking his skin and urging goose bumps to come out.

            The sensations were so pleasant and compassionate that he didn’t discern the fantasy and reality of it until the touch left and he opened his eyes.

            Like they had been for the past two times they’d come, MinHo was at the foot of the bed leering at Key with an impassive expression and JongHyun was less daunting, his short frame hunched over. He stretched for Key while sitting on the edge of TaeMin’s bed. His hand hadn’t left completely but chose to rest in front of Key rather than on him. And despite him having that indifferent expression plastered on him like a permanent mask there was a spark of… Wonder? Respect? Care?