(one-shot) more than this - less than that
Title: More Than This (Less Than That)
Author: mustenentwined3
Pairing: JongKey
Genre: Friendship, angst
Rating: PG
Disclaimer(s): Nothing's mine, unless you can find a plot. :3
Summary: Kibum has never been quite sure what Jonghyun is to him.
A/N: Includes mentions of comeback, blue contacts, Onew being responsible, and some kind of attempt at fail!humor. Written at 12 AM as a result of my brain's half-dead state from schoolwork, so please pardon any mistakes or OOC-ness. I just wanted to contribute because this pairing needs to be written more >: enjoy (if you can), comments are always much love! ♥
Kibum has never been quite sure what Jonghyun is to him. They’re best friends, he thinks, almost so much more than just that - but he’s not in love, not really. He remembers meeting Jonghyun for the first time, all spiky hair and awkward glances. He remembers the way Jonghyun smiled at him, huge and ridiculous, how he raised himself up on his tiptoes and pretended to be taller than Kibum (You’re younger than me, that’s so not fair, were his exact words).
He doesn’t know when he started noticing Jonghyun’s movements, the way his figure glides through everyday routine so easily, smoothly - everything Jonghyun does is smooth, undefined (his singing, his talking, his character). It’s almost like watching a movie that is somehow different every time - it’s the same people, the same setting, but it’s always different when it’s Jonghyun.
When preparations for the second mini-album roll around, Jonghyun is psyched. He stays up late exercising at the gym across the street, spends his evenings on the couch, sheets of paper filled with lyrics scattered everywhere, so much that none of the rest can even begin to try and step inside the room. He’s still the same Jonghyun they all know - silly, obnoxious - but for whatever strange reason, Kibum cannot help but feel that he is being left out, that Jonghyun is growing out of him. He tells himself he’s just being paranoid - it’s hard to deny, especially when Jonghyun arrives at meals promptly, throws an arm around his shoulder and tells him that he’s wonderful with a mouthful of food. It’s hard to deny when Jonghyun slumps against him like always after a long night of song writing, grasping his wrist absently to play with the dangling bracelets, laughter filling the air.
But by the time the official news comes in, Kibum is sure he’s feeling something different (it’s in the way his heart races when Jonghyun saunters into the room, how he becomes more conscious of his appearance, more aware of Jonghyun’s voice above all others). It’s almost stupid, because it’s Jonghyun - lame jokes, huge smile, annoying laughter and all. It is really, really stupid.
They are told that Jonghyun is going to write the lyrics for the main song, to which Jonghyun proceeds to throw himself into his writing (as if he wasn’t already before). He eats at spontaneous times of day, bursts into rooms without warning, hair mussed and eyes bright.
It isn’t entirely too difficult to avoid Jonghyun in this state, which is exactly what Kibum tries to do. He manages to escape Jinki’s surprisingly active leader-radar (as clumsy as he can be, he notices things like this) for a few days, but is surprised by Minho randomly remarking upon it early one morning (Hyung said he hasn’t seen you around in a while, he said, and quirked an eyebrow before walking away to shower).
The thing is, avoiding Jonghyun doesn’t help - in fact; all it does is make it worse. Jonghyun’s presence has become so ultimately routine in his life, so normal that Kibum almost aches from the absence of handholding and finger-touching, the cascade of Jonghyun’s breath on his ear, warmth and fabric pressed against his skin. It makes him distraught, so much that he finds himself straying away from the mirror every morning, makes him not want to see how dull and obsolete he’s turning without Jonghyun nearby. He ignores Jinki’s thoughtfully placed comments; the way Minho regards him curiously (it hurts, kind of, definitely - that he misses Jonghyun so damn much).
It gets to the point where Kibum hasn’t seen Jonghyun in a week, save for spare glimpses here and there, the overwhelmingly obvious echo of Jonghyun’s voice in the neighboring rooms, and the agency studios. By the time they get their new hairstyles done, Kibum is feeling like a completely different person - no Jonghyun, changed hair, improved rapping and all. He feels almost accomplished, grown-up, so much that he has the spontaneous notion to drag Taemin with him to Jaejoong to ask about blue contacts.
When they return to the studio, Jonghyun is lounging on the ground beside Jinki, hair spiked up (ironic, Kibum thinks, how he used to look way back when) and fingers fiddling with the buttons on the stereo. He looks up when Kibum and Taemin enter, eyes tired, cheeks hollowed, arm muscles more defined, and for the first time in his life, Kibum doesn’t know what to say to his best friend, but he doesn’t have to.
“Kibum-ah!” With a grin, Jonghyun straightens. “How’s my new hair?”
Kibum blinks a little. “Great,” he says before he can actually think about it, and plops down onto the ground beside Jinki, who is sending him knowing glances.
“I like yours,” Jonghyun says casually, reaches over like it’s nothing (because it is, Kibum tells himself), and curls a strand of Kibum’s hair around his finger.
“I like mine too,” Kibum tries to come off sounding as nonchalant as possible, to ignore the feel of Jinki’s eyes trained on him.
Jonghyun nods, purses his lips, eyes smiling. “So where were you and Taeminnie?”
It catches Kibum off-guard, and he stumbles a little over his words - he wants his new look to be a surprise. “We - uh, we went to say hi to the hyungs,” he shifts his gaze towards Jinki, who gets the cue.
“Jonghyun-ah,” Jinki unfolds his legs, patting Jonghyun’s knee, “We have to start rehearsing. We have to see how our duet’s going, remember?” At the mention of the duet (and the fact that the person Jonghyun idolizes the most is helping to write the song), Jonghyun’s eyes brighten, and he untangles himself from Kibum’s accessories. As they depart, Kibum lets out a long sigh, leaning back against the mirror and closing his eyes.
With how much Jonghyun has seeped into his life, he doesn’t know how he ever thought it could be easy to push him away.
(The fact is, his heart still hurts.)
---
Jaejoong helps convince the agency (a pretty easy task, especially for somebody like Jaejoong) to order both Kibum and Taemin blue contacts. They come in a large shipment two days later, a light, cardboard boxful of small circular plastic objects swirling in liquid. There’s an excited knock on the kitchen door, Taemin’s bright expression interrupting Kibum’s morning dishwashing.
After he puts away the dishes, Kibum slips into the bathroom with Taemin, and they fumble together with the packages, trying to stick the objects into their eyes the way Jaejoong taught them. Taemin succeeds after two tries, while Kibum continues to struggle, blinking away the onslaught of involuntary tears as the object falls, yet again, out of his eye. Frustrated, he rubs at the reddening eye, lips forming a slight pout.
“You can’t let go immediately, Key-umma,” Taemin reprimands, watching. “Hold it there for a second.” He leans forward as Kibum gives it one last chance, and claps once in approval when the contact finally stays in Kibum’s eye. With surprise, Kibum looks around the room - it’s amazing how much clearer everything seems, the details are so precise. Only struggling the tiniest bit, he manages to get the other one in as well, and smiles at his reflection in the mirror - it’s like he has a new perspective of the world now, a new beginning. He regards the blue of his eyes fondly, tilts his head to adjust to the difference.
“Should we go out?” Kibum turns to the youngest, who just nods and smiles. “You go first,” he tells Taemin, and Taemin gives him a curious look before shrugging.
“Okay, hyung.” He moves forward, letting the door swing open to reveal a blinking Jonghyun, hand poised to touch where the doorknob just was.
“Oh, Taeminnie! I didn’t know you were…” he trails off when he sees the color of Taemin’s eyes. “Oh my god, what did you do?”
“Don’t you like the blue, hyung?” Confidently, Kibum steps forward, striking a small pose in the doorway as Jonghyun watches him in utter shock, eyes wide and dark.
There’s the sound of footsteps, a moment’s notice before Jinki appears in the hallway, eyebrows creased into a worried frown. “Hyun, why are you yelling - ” he stops in place when both Taemin and Kibum turn to look at him. “Oh.”
And somehow, suddenly, with that word, Jonghyun is angry. “Oh is right,” he mutters quietly, his gaze boring into Kibum (who looks away, refuses to make eye contact). Undeterred, Jonghyun reaches forward and clasps a hand down on Kibum’s wrist - firm, warm grip, and it almost makes Kibum cry when he realizes how much he’s missed, just that skin contact (his heart hurts). “I need to talk to you,” Jonghyun breathes in his ear, tugging him forward, his voice lowering when he notices Kibum’s hesitance. “In private.”
“We’ll be right back,” he adds on, loudly enough for Jinki, Taemin, and Minho (…when he got there, Kibum doesn’t know). Kibum isn’t allowed enough time to even anticipate their reactions before he is dragged into the nearest room, the door slamming behind them, the audible click of a lock following.
Instead of yelling, though, Jonghyun heaves a sigh, and slumps down onto the floor, burying his head into his hands silently. It is too silent - eerily silent, especially since it’s Jonghyun of all people, and Kibum doesn’t know what to say (his heart is pounding too loudly, too quickly, too nervously). Finally, he settles on lowering himself to a sitting position beside the other boy, gently touching a hand to Jonghyun’s fingertips. The older boy flinches visibly, raises his head, eyes dark and unreadable, scarily serious (it makes Kibum’s heart hurt even more).
“Jong - ”
“Why do you keep avoiding me,” Jonghyun doesn’t let him finish, voice emotionless. “I’m not stupid, Key. I can see that you’re avoiding me. I know I’ve been busy with writing lyrics - and I’m getting there, I promise - but I don’t know, I never see you anymore and I don’t know why…did I do something wrong? It’s like I don’t know you anymore - I mean, and now your eyes - ”
“My eyes have nothing to do with it,” Kibum cuts in, and instantly regrets it when Jonghyun’s expression falls at his all-too-cold tone, eyebrow quirking in an almost sarcastic response. “Okay, so maybe they do,” he admits after a moment, but Jonghyun doesn’t smile.
“Are you trying to avoid me? Have you even noticed that you are avoiding me?”
“I,” Kibum laughs, bitterly. “I am avoiding you.”
“Why?” Biting his lip, Jonghyun tentatively reaches forward, rubs a finger across Kibum’s palm, and watches the younger boy twitch slightly. He draws back. “Aren’t we best friends, Key?”
“Is that all we are? Best friends? Touching each other, hugging each other, practically molesting each other - Jonghyun, are we seriously just best friends?” Frowning, Kibum brings his knees up to his chest. “The media probably thinks we’re gay.”
Jonghyun looks stunned for a second, but he regains his composure quickly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Um, Key, even the hyungs think you’re gay.”
“Me? Not you? You touch me all the time.”
“Key,” letting out a breath, Jonghyun inches forward, slides an arm around Kibum’s shoulder, ignores the failingly attempted sound of protest (the warmth, it still makes Kibum’s heart ache, in almost a good way). “Kibum,” Jonghyun whispers, trails a finger along the other boy’s thigh, entangles their hands together. “I’ll be whatever the hell you want me to be - best friend, or anything. We’ll be whatever you think we are.”
“I don’t know what I think we are.”
“Me neither, unless I could read your mind.”
Not resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Kibum whacks Jonghyun on the head, lips curving upwards when Jonghyun gives him a fake pout. “You deserved it, darling.”
The pout transforms into a smile, and Jonghyun laughs, pulling Kibum up from the ground without letting go of his hand. “There’s the Key I know,” he says, eyes twinkling, warmth still curled around the knuckles of Kibum’s hand (it aches, most definitely, but probably in the best way possible. In fact, it’s not an ache, Kibum realizes.
It’s love - any kind of love he wants it to be, it doesn’t matter, not in the long run. Because it’s Jonghyun, and he’s Key, and it’s just their kind of love).
What Jonghyun says next makes Kibum laugh, like he hasn’t done in days.
“So hey Key, now that we love each other and all’s well, would you please take out those horrendous contacts?”
He just winks, and smiles, to which Jonghyun groans.
“I think I’m dying my hair blond next week.”
Author: mustenentwined3
Pairing: JongKey
Genre: Friendship, angst
Rating: PG
Disclaimer(s): Nothing's mine, unless you can find a plot. :3
Summary: Kibum has never been quite sure what Jonghyun is to him.
A/N: Includes mentions of comeback, blue contacts, Onew being responsible, and some kind of attempt at fail!humor. Written at 12 AM as a result of my brain's half-dead state from schoolwork, so please pardon any mistakes or OOC-ness. I just wanted to contribute because this pairing needs to be written more >: enjoy (if you can), comments are always much love! ♥
Kibum has never been quite sure what Jonghyun is to him. They’re best friends, he thinks, almost so much more than just that - but he’s not in love, not really. He remembers meeting Jonghyun for the first time, all spiky hair and awkward glances. He remembers the way Jonghyun smiled at him, huge and ridiculous, how he raised himself up on his tiptoes and pretended to be taller than Kibum (You’re younger than me, that’s so not fair, were his exact words).
He doesn’t know when he started noticing Jonghyun’s movements, the way his figure glides through everyday routine so easily, smoothly - everything Jonghyun does is smooth, undefined (his singing, his talking, his character). It’s almost like watching a movie that is somehow different every time - it’s the same people, the same setting, but it’s always different when it’s Jonghyun.
When preparations for the second mini-album roll around, Jonghyun is psyched. He stays up late exercising at the gym across the street, spends his evenings on the couch, sheets of paper filled with lyrics scattered everywhere, so much that none of the rest can even begin to try and step inside the room. He’s still the same Jonghyun they all know - silly, obnoxious - but for whatever strange reason, Kibum cannot help but feel that he is being left out, that Jonghyun is growing out of him. He tells himself he’s just being paranoid - it’s hard to deny, especially when Jonghyun arrives at meals promptly, throws an arm around his shoulder and tells him that he’s wonderful with a mouthful of food. It’s hard to deny when Jonghyun slumps against him like always after a long night of song writing, grasping his wrist absently to play with the dangling bracelets, laughter filling the air.
But by the time the official news comes in, Kibum is sure he’s feeling something different (it’s in the way his heart races when Jonghyun saunters into the room, how he becomes more conscious of his appearance, more aware of Jonghyun’s voice above all others). It’s almost stupid, because it’s Jonghyun - lame jokes, huge smile, annoying laughter and all. It is really, really stupid.
They are told that Jonghyun is going to write the lyrics for the main song, to which Jonghyun proceeds to throw himself into his writing (as if he wasn’t already before). He eats at spontaneous times of day, bursts into rooms without warning, hair mussed and eyes bright.
It isn’t entirely too difficult to avoid Jonghyun in this state, which is exactly what Kibum tries to do. He manages to escape Jinki’s surprisingly active leader-radar (as clumsy as he can be, he notices things like this) for a few days, but is surprised by Minho randomly remarking upon it early one morning (Hyung said he hasn’t seen you around in a while, he said, and quirked an eyebrow before walking away to shower).
The thing is, avoiding Jonghyun doesn’t help - in fact; all it does is make it worse. Jonghyun’s presence has become so ultimately routine in his life, so normal that Kibum almost aches from the absence of handholding and finger-touching, the cascade of Jonghyun’s breath on his ear, warmth and fabric pressed against his skin. It makes him distraught, so much that he finds himself straying away from the mirror every morning, makes him not want to see how dull and obsolete he’s turning without Jonghyun nearby. He ignores Jinki’s thoughtfully placed comments; the way Minho regards him curiously (it hurts, kind of, definitely - that he misses Jonghyun so damn much).
It gets to the point where Kibum hasn’t seen Jonghyun in a week, save for spare glimpses here and there, the overwhelmingly obvious echo of Jonghyun’s voice in the neighboring rooms, and the agency studios. By the time they get their new hairstyles done, Kibum is feeling like a completely different person - no Jonghyun, changed hair, improved rapping and all. He feels almost accomplished, grown-up, so much that he has the spontaneous notion to drag Taemin with him to Jaejoong to ask about blue contacts.
When they return to the studio, Jonghyun is lounging on the ground beside Jinki, hair spiked up (ironic, Kibum thinks, how he used to look way back when) and fingers fiddling with the buttons on the stereo. He looks up when Kibum and Taemin enter, eyes tired, cheeks hollowed, arm muscles more defined, and for the first time in his life, Kibum doesn’t know what to say to his best friend, but he doesn’t have to.
“Kibum-ah!” With a grin, Jonghyun straightens. “How’s my new hair?”
Kibum blinks a little. “Great,” he says before he can actually think about it, and plops down onto the ground beside Jinki, who is sending him knowing glances.
“I like yours,” Jonghyun says casually, reaches over like it’s nothing (because it is, Kibum tells himself), and curls a strand of Kibum’s hair around his finger.
“I like mine too,” Kibum tries to come off sounding as nonchalant as possible, to ignore the feel of Jinki’s eyes trained on him.
Jonghyun nods, purses his lips, eyes smiling. “So where were you and Taeminnie?”
It catches Kibum off-guard, and he stumbles a little over his words - he wants his new look to be a surprise. “We - uh, we went to say hi to the hyungs,” he shifts his gaze towards Jinki, who gets the cue.
“Jonghyun-ah,” Jinki unfolds his legs, patting Jonghyun’s knee, “We have to start rehearsing. We have to see how our duet’s going, remember?” At the mention of the duet (and the fact that the person Jonghyun idolizes the most is helping to write the song), Jonghyun’s eyes brighten, and he untangles himself from Kibum’s accessories. As they depart, Kibum lets out a long sigh, leaning back against the mirror and closing his eyes.
With how much Jonghyun has seeped into his life, he doesn’t know how he ever thought it could be easy to push him away.
(The fact is, his heart still hurts.)
---
Jaejoong helps convince the agency (a pretty easy task, especially for somebody like Jaejoong) to order both Kibum and Taemin blue contacts. They come in a large shipment two days later, a light, cardboard boxful of small circular plastic objects swirling in liquid. There’s an excited knock on the kitchen door, Taemin’s bright expression interrupting Kibum’s morning dishwashing.
After he puts away the dishes, Kibum slips into the bathroom with Taemin, and they fumble together with the packages, trying to stick the objects into their eyes the way Jaejoong taught them. Taemin succeeds after two tries, while Kibum continues to struggle, blinking away the onslaught of involuntary tears as the object falls, yet again, out of his eye. Frustrated, he rubs at the reddening eye, lips forming a slight pout.
“You can’t let go immediately, Key-umma,” Taemin reprimands, watching. “Hold it there for a second.” He leans forward as Kibum gives it one last chance, and claps once in approval when the contact finally stays in Kibum’s eye. With surprise, Kibum looks around the room - it’s amazing how much clearer everything seems, the details are so precise. Only struggling the tiniest bit, he manages to get the other one in as well, and smiles at his reflection in the mirror - it’s like he has a new perspective of the world now, a new beginning. He regards the blue of his eyes fondly, tilts his head to adjust to the difference.
“Should we go out?” Kibum turns to the youngest, who just nods and smiles. “You go first,” he tells Taemin, and Taemin gives him a curious look before shrugging.
“Okay, hyung.” He moves forward, letting the door swing open to reveal a blinking Jonghyun, hand poised to touch where the doorknob just was.
“Oh, Taeminnie! I didn’t know you were…” he trails off when he sees the color of Taemin’s eyes. “Oh my god, what did you do?”
“Don’t you like the blue, hyung?” Confidently, Kibum steps forward, striking a small pose in the doorway as Jonghyun watches him in utter shock, eyes wide and dark.
There’s the sound of footsteps, a moment’s notice before Jinki appears in the hallway, eyebrows creased into a worried frown. “Hyun, why are you yelling - ” he stops in place when both Taemin and Kibum turn to look at him. “Oh.”
And somehow, suddenly, with that word, Jonghyun is angry. “Oh is right,” he mutters quietly, his gaze boring into Kibum (who looks away, refuses to make eye contact). Undeterred, Jonghyun reaches forward and clasps a hand down on Kibum’s wrist - firm, warm grip, and it almost makes Kibum cry when he realizes how much he’s missed, just that skin contact (his heart hurts). “I need to talk to you,” Jonghyun breathes in his ear, tugging him forward, his voice lowering when he notices Kibum’s hesitance. “In private.”
“We’ll be right back,” he adds on, loudly enough for Jinki, Taemin, and Minho (…when he got there, Kibum doesn’t know). Kibum isn’t allowed enough time to even anticipate their reactions before he is dragged into the nearest room, the door slamming behind them, the audible click of a lock following.
Instead of yelling, though, Jonghyun heaves a sigh, and slumps down onto the floor, burying his head into his hands silently. It is too silent - eerily silent, especially since it’s Jonghyun of all people, and Kibum doesn’t know what to say (his heart is pounding too loudly, too quickly, too nervously). Finally, he settles on lowering himself to a sitting position beside the other boy, gently touching a hand to Jonghyun’s fingertips. The older boy flinches visibly, raises his head, eyes dark and unreadable, scarily serious (it makes Kibum’s heart hurt even more).
“Jong - ”
“Why do you keep avoiding me,” Jonghyun doesn’t let him finish, voice emotionless. “I’m not stupid, Key. I can see that you’re avoiding me. I know I’ve been busy with writing lyrics - and I’m getting there, I promise - but I don’t know, I never see you anymore and I don’t know why…did I do something wrong? It’s like I don’t know you anymore - I mean, and now your eyes - ”
“My eyes have nothing to do with it,” Kibum cuts in, and instantly regrets it when Jonghyun’s expression falls at his all-too-cold tone, eyebrow quirking in an almost sarcastic response. “Okay, so maybe they do,” he admits after a moment, but Jonghyun doesn’t smile.
“Are you trying to avoid me? Have you even noticed that you are avoiding me?”
“I,” Kibum laughs, bitterly. “I am avoiding you.”
“Why?” Biting his lip, Jonghyun tentatively reaches forward, rubs a finger across Kibum’s palm, and watches the younger boy twitch slightly. He draws back. “Aren’t we best friends, Key?”
“Is that all we are? Best friends? Touching each other, hugging each other, practically molesting each other - Jonghyun, are we seriously just best friends?” Frowning, Kibum brings his knees up to his chest. “The media probably thinks we’re gay.”
Jonghyun looks stunned for a second, but he regains his composure quickly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Um, Key, even the hyungs think you’re gay.”
“Me? Not you? You touch me all the time.”
“Key,” letting out a breath, Jonghyun inches forward, slides an arm around Kibum’s shoulder, ignores the failingly attempted sound of protest (the warmth, it still makes Kibum’s heart ache, in almost a good way). “Kibum,” Jonghyun whispers, trails a finger along the other boy’s thigh, entangles their hands together. “I’ll be whatever the hell you want me to be - best friend, or anything. We’ll be whatever you think we are.”
“I don’t know what I think we are.”
“Me neither, unless I could read your mind.”
Not resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Kibum whacks Jonghyun on the head, lips curving upwards when Jonghyun gives him a fake pout. “You deserved it, darling.”
The pout transforms into a smile, and Jonghyun laughs, pulling Kibum up from the ground without letting go of his hand. “There’s the Key I know,” he says, eyes twinkling, warmth still curled around the knuckles of Kibum’s hand (it aches, most definitely, but probably in the best way possible. In fact, it’s not an ache, Kibum realizes.
It’s love - any kind of love he wants it to be, it doesn’t matter, not in the long run. Because it’s Jonghyun, and he’s Key, and it’s just their kind of love).
What Jonghyun says next makes Kibum laugh, like he hasn’t done in days.
“So hey Key, now that we love each other and all’s well, would you please take out those horrendous contacts?”
He just winks, and smiles, to which Jonghyun groans.
“I think I’m dying my hair blond next week.”