Title: Linearity
Genre: Shortfic
Pairing: Kihae
Kibum is the shy one, in some sense of the word. He keeps most things to himself, and says aloud only what is needed to be said; why trouble others with unimportance? But his introverted tendencies don't imply obliviousness or self-centered behavior, because quietly he does observe near everything and formulates opinions and feelings on it all.
Donghae, however, is the outgoing one, the loudest in any group, even of size one. It's an understatement to say he talks before he thinks, because he doesn't even think about what he's said until someone gives him reason to. He's a spewing stream of verbal consciousness, perhaps in an adorable way, but it also means his line of sight is rather linear: Donghae tends to miss things unless they're directly in front of him, and even then most times he doesn't quite understand the gravity of it all.
At first Donghae annoys Kibum. How can one be so blind, so carefree? How can one only talk, never listen? How can one be so naive yet still manage to get by in life? Kibum doesn't understand it, because the mere thought of it sounds so foreign and wrong.
But it's only when Kibum talks to Donghae for the first time, when Kibum actually judges Donghae's character from personal experience and not from ten giant steps in the distance, that Kibum understands. It's still foreign, and Kibum even questions if Donghae is truly content on the inside, despite his excessive laughs and his playful nature.
But ignorance is bliss, is it not?
Kibum is the shy one, even in Donghae's company. In some sense it's not intentional, as it is just his nature to not say much, especially if his opinion isn't needed. But in another sense it is intentional, because he always keeps his responses short when replying to Donghae's attempts to make him talk, and he always declines, politely at least, whenever Donghae invites him to large group outings over the weekend.
But he does take Donghae on whenever the latter invites him to his house, just the two of them. He's gotten better in small groups, especially of size two, and he tends to talk out of character a little bit more when around Donghae. Once Donghae had mocked him for it, making it a point to publicize the fact that Kibum had spoken for more than five seconds when not having been asked to. But slowly Kibum begins to open up to Donghae, in the vaguest sense of the word.
But Kibum's not the only one changing, because Kibum opening up to Donghae indeed makes the older boy happy, and for the first time, Donghae ponders this thought before he speaks it out loud.
Kibum is still the shy one, though, and though he shares some thoughts with Donghae he still keeps many to himself. He tries to conceal his reactions to accidental arm brushing, and he tries not to say much whenever Donghae decides his house is too hot and proceeds in pulling off his shirt in the middle of a video game. But there is something there, something Kibum acknowledges but doesn't want to admit to, because he doesn't know how to deal with it.
And most certainly, Donghae doesn't need to know about any of it, even if the boy is much easier to read that Kibum himself is. He's quite sure Donghae feels it too, in the way he can see, from the corner of his eye, Donghae's head dart in his direction, whenever they accidentally touch. Kibum can tell, in the way Donghae coaxes Kibum, almost flirtatiously, in taking off his own shirt.
It's almost unusual, because Kibum expects Donghae to blurt something out, to speak without thinking -- and Kibum wants Donghae to be the one to say it, because everyone and their spouses know that he may never be the one to let out something like this. Kibum is the shy one, after all, is he not?
But perhaps Donghae's linearity and obliviousness outweighs this characteristic of his. That, or Donghae has finally changed. But if it's the latter, though inconveniently so, then at least Donghae's changed because of him.
They almost kiss. Innocent wrestling, consequence of Donghae's cheating at some video game. It something Kibum doesn't see coming, even if he's the one to initiate it, entirely out of character. Donghae pinned beneath him, entirely to his mercy, Kibum has no time to think, no time to--
His frame drops slightly, out of fatigue, an inability to support his weight above Donghae's whilst still out of breath. But he comes dangerously close, and in an instant everything changes. Smiles vanish, eyes widen, breathing is short, hot, and in a panic Kibum rolls off and leaves the house.
What Kibum doesn't know is Donghae's internal monologue, rare merely by nature. Surely, as expected, Donghae doesn't understand the gravity of things at all, nor does Kibum really. But there's something there, a sliver of understanding, or perhaps realization.
For once, even if no one is there to witness it, Donghae frowns.
Ignorance is truly bliss.
Two boys, nearly men. Two opposite natures. Meeting with no intention of ever changing the way they live life. Yet willingly or not, things change. They themselves change.
And Kibum decides that it's about time to fully embrace this.
Kibum arrives unannounced. Donghae's mother doesn't care, Kibum now a regular occurrence in her household. But Donghae does, though he doesn't have the heart to force Kibum out of his room when the younger boy blocks off his only exit out of the room.
It's one last attempt at normalcy. Donghae smiles, laughs, albeit nervously. He talks on end, on random topics that make no sense, anything to avoid what Kibum might actually be in his room for. He pleads for ignorance, but Kibum doesn't give it to him.
"Donghae . . . I really like you."
And Kibum is anyone but the shy one, now.