(chaptered) running through a stop sign 2/3
title: running through a stop sign 2/3
pairing: Jonghyun/Key
genre: au, romance
rating: pg
warnings: alcohol influence
word count: 1928 words
summary: In which the ever-perfect and falsely immaculate Kibum gets butterflies inside his stomach because of a jubilant and carefree boy named Jonghyun, who happens to rotate Kibum's world in an extremely different direction.
notes: yay. update. yay. :| why do i feel like this is worse than the previous one asdfghjkl;asdfghjk but. oh well. imma think positive and hope that you`ll actually like this. ^^v next chapter will be out after i post an ontae fic for maknaelovesyou . because it`s her birthday today. and because i don`t have a gift for her because i`m an osm bestfriend just like that lolololol. comments = ♥♥♥
The ‘miraculous’ fried chicken (as told by Jinki) did not help even one bit. Kibum still felt light-headed and longed for his soft as marshmallow bed to rest his tired body.
Forty-five minutes late, Jonghyun entered the room and bowed to the teacher apologetically. Fortunately, this teacher likes him too much that she didn’t even ask why the brunet was tardy in the first place and told him to just go to his seat.
The image of Jonghyun flashing him a toothy grin with a heart made by his hands ran across his mind. Again. And there comes the odd sensation that swirled in his stomach. Again. In the end, he felt despicably idiotic for even thinking about that and wasting his thoughts over him.
“God, Kibum.” Jonghyun whined in a complaining tone right before slumping down on his chair. “My head hurts like hell.” He whispers as he winced while maintaining that adorable expression on his face.
“Well, I don’t even remember everything clearly. And Minho lost my freaking contacts, thank you very much.” He replied bitterly, jotting down a mental note to demand that jock for compensation.
“Aww.” The brunet cooed with pouted lips. “At least I do.” He smiled smugly.
Kibum rolled his eyes in return. “Oh, please.” He replied with pride in his voice. “I was bit more sober than you.”
Jonghyun shifted in his chair so that he could face the stubborn blond completely. “Try me.” With a daredevil smirk, he narrowed his eyes.
The diva side-eyed him and raised an eyebrow. “What did you eat?”
“A slice of white forest with a cherry on top.”
“Who was the last person you hugged?”
“Kyuhyun-hyung.”
“Last person you piggy-backed?”
“Cho Jino.”
He propped up his elbow on the desk and rested his chin on his palm, challenging stares shooting directly at Jonghyun. “How did you say goodbye to me last night?”
Jonghyun scoffed before grinning cheekily and forming a heart with his hand.
Kibum’s heartbeat doubled its pace as his feline eyes got bigger. Astonishment and complete disbelief was plastered on his features. “Well, shit. Why do you remember?” he said with a volume that’s a decibel too loud.
But it’s alright, he could get away with it because the teacher had invested great trust in him ever since the day he told her how radiant she looked like - if only Jonghyun would restrain his chuckle with a little more effort and use his undying energy to help him explain instead.
Euphoria filled every laugh, every drink, and every inch of the abode which had vivid strings of neon lights that acted as fluorescent serpents here & there, and a booming vibration of bass from the speakers.
The rapid, lively song has got Jonghyun’s heart strapped down to the beat as he sang every word with a smooth and flawless voice that covered up for his incoherent lyrics.
Kibum was laughing obnoxiously, eyes closed with one hand shoving the hysterical singing boy away and the other hitting his thigh repeatedly.
And that’s about all of it. That’s the only part Kibum remembers - the rest was a blinding, bright-lighted haze.
The next thing he knows, he’s woken up by a pained back, a feather-light head, and a jolt of dizziness. He slept with his head on the kitchen table, and the remaining mass of his body on a chair that puked its own foam out of the fabric.
Jonghyun was soundly snoring, his head of tousled hair thrown back with his eyes slightly open.
Suddenly, Taemin peeked through the entrance of the room and surveyed the scene with blinking eyes and jumbled curls of vermillion as his bed hair. “Kibum-hyung…”
Kibum shook his head groggily and motioned his hand dismissively. “No, Jinki’s not here.” He rasped.
The younger boy’s mouth formed into a small ‘o’ and walked away as he muttered “He’s nowhere, why is he not here? Why?” as his hand scratched his head.
The kitchen smelled greatly of the devil’s food cake that Kibum vaguely remembers eating, and he could still taste the remnants of blush wine on his tongue. His vision spun him around like a merry-go-round at a five second interval, his hair had whipped cream ( he felt the soft, sticky matter as he ran his hand through his golden strands and has no clue on why the hell he would shampoo his hair with whipped cream in the first place. ), he’s wearing Jonghyun’s chain necklace and another one which belongs to God knows who, he felt as if he’s suffering from tonsillitis, and it’s already eleven in the afternoon.
And the worst part is, he’s got two projects to work on, four reports to finish for all the extra-curricular activities he’s got himself into and he doesn’t even know how he can go back to his own house without the help of Jinki - who is currently no where in sight.
Jonghyun woke up, eyes fluttering open and a yawn escaping from his mouth as he stretched. “Good morning!” he says simultaneously with Kibum who mutters a lifeless and monotone “Fuck my life.”
“Shut up, hyung - the both of you - shut up. Ugh, too noisy.” Minho complained in living room with a vocabulary of slurred and sleepy words.
A head of brown hair barged inside the honeysuckle scented room and went directly to Kibum who was busy copy reading an article for their school newspaper.
“Hey there, Kibummie, hey.” He crooned as he called him by his infamous nickname, smiling with summer sunshine.
Kibum looked up from his work, and stared at the boy - who looked a like a very annoying but pitiful lost puppy - with a stoic and expressionless face. “What?” he said right after approximately four seconds.
“Are you free this Saturday?”
“No, I’m expensive.”
“Really funny, Kibum.”
The blond continued to scribble remarks on the literary material as the brunet waited for the copyreader to speak while he inhales the unfamiliar fragrance of ink and pencil dust.
“Jonghyun, no, I just can’t. Sorry.”
He stared at his ceiling with particularly nothing to think about, nothing to say, and nothing to do. His parents visited his grandfather at Italy ( or was it Saipan? Maybe France? Kibum cared less anyway, so whatever. ) and Jonghyun was probably getting his ass drunk at Jaejoong’s house.
Kibum felt the vibration of his phone, only a few centimeters away from falling of the corner of his bed. He exhaled loudly, breaking the silence of the midnight. And after a grunt and a shifting of his position, he reached the device that just won’t stop vibrating.
‘Stupid Dinosaur’, the caller name read - and nobody would even need Sherlock to figure out who that is.
After flipping it open, the sound of a droned pop song that had the slightest echo greeted his ear. “What?” he answered in a lazy voice.
“I wanna go home.” Jonghyun’s slipshod painted slur of words echoed.
“You want me to call a Tyrannosaurus Rex to pick up you up, or can you go to Jurassic Park by yourself?”
“But I can’t,” he continued. “I need you, Kibum.” his words were enough to twist up Kibum’s heart.
Five seconds later, Kibum said “You’re drunk.” And hung up.
Then fifteen minutes later, Kibum was crashing into bodies of stumbling drunkards, and getting nauseated by the smell of hair products, perfume, and face foundation mixed with the stench of smoke, alcohol, and vomit as he cursed grudgingly under his breath.
“Oh! Kibum.” Jinki’s surprised tone froze him up for a short moment.
“Jonghyun.”
And with that, he knows - because Jinki’s smart like that. “Bathroom, upstairs.” He yelled as a loud song boomed from the speakers and shook the walls with the bass.
He rushed his way upstairs, ignoring the spill he stepped on and ignoring how Taemin was obnoxiously laughing as he dragged Minho with Jinki chasing after them. They were drunk - good. ( Because that way, none of them would notice that Kibum is still wearing the fluffy pink slippers that he wears at home. )
The blond finally found Jonghyun sprawled on a dry bathtub, his leather jacket hanging on one side and his hair a disarray of chocolate.
“Wow, look at you. Wow.” He nonchalantly said as he leaned on the doorframe.
“Shut the fuck up, and just get me out of here.” Jonghyun whined as he massaged his temples with one hand, the other holding his phone with the lightest grip.
With much effort, they finally escaped the universe of red plastic cups, spilled drinks, and deafening music. They staggered together - mostly because of the combination of Jonghyun’s force and gravity - until they reached the brunet’s abode.
Kibum waits, and waits, and waits, until he sees the flicker of light from Jonghyun’s bedroom window. He then walks back to his home, that’s only a few meters away, with an opulent smell of tequila on the sleeve of his shirt - warmed by Jonghyun’s breathy slurs against his arm, and creased by the boy’s tight hold.
By the time he reached seven, he stopped counting every time Jonghyun asks him to pick him up from the party. He doesn’t complain anymore, simply because he ran out of vulgarities to squeeze in his rant and he’s too used to the routine of being woken up by a call at midnight - either Jonghyun himself will call him, or Jinki will speak in his overly-concerned voice telling how wasted the brunet is, and at occasional times, Taemin will laugh his creepy, drunk giggle for about five minutes ( along with Minho yelling at him in the background ) then finally tell him to pick up Jonghyun because that was the main reason why he called in the first place. ( And really, there was nothing to laugh about, he just wanted to laugh. Just because. )
“Kibum-ah, I have to tell you something very, very, very important.” the drunkard who was taking desultory strides suddenly placed an arm around him.
Kibum gave him a sideway glance. “Kim Jonghyun, if you’re gonna go and prove your point on how Amber is biologically a male, I am ineffably uninteres-”
“I like you.” The scent of green apple reached his nose while Jonghyun’s breath tickled his ears and sent electrifying shivers down his spine.
He got glued to the spot, digesting in what the brunet just said. Without giving him enough time to brood, Jonghyun pushed him against a brick wall that was filled with graffiti and love confessions written on black marker ink.
He trapped him with arms at either side of the jaded blond, plus a smirk on his face. He then leaned closer. And in a blink of an eye, he was too close that their foreheads were touching and the fragrance of green apple was intensely redolent.
Kibum wanted to break free from the imbroglio.
“I like you the best.” Jonghyun murmured.
On second thought, he doesn’t want to. If a kiss could kill the stupid, sadistic butterflies ( Minho had told him that it was butterflies instead of any other stomach disorder. “Oh, shut up, what butterflies? You need fresh air. Go study ballet. Or confess your eternal love for Taemin. Or Ballet.” Kibum had retorted defensively at the tall boy. ) inside his stomach, then let it be. Though, to his dismay, the brunet stepped away and took clumsy strides after displaying surreptitious smile.
“Fucking tease.” Kibum hissed as he followed him while trying to bore a hole at Jonghyun’s head with his glares.
--
☁ one ; three
pairing: Jonghyun/Key
genre: au, romance
rating: pg
warnings: alcohol influence
word count: 1928 words
summary: In which the ever-perfect and falsely immaculate Kibum gets butterflies inside his stomach because of a jubilant and carefree boy named Jonghyun, who happens to rotate Kibum's world in an extremely different direction.
notes: yay. update. yay. :| why do i feel like this is worse than the previous one asdfghjkl;asdfghjk but. oh well. imma think positive and hope that you`ll actually like this. ^^v next chapter will be out after i post an ontae fic for maknaelovesyou . because it`s her birthday today. and because i don`t have a gift for her because i`m an osm bestfriend just like that lolololol. comments = ♥♥♥
The ‘miraculous’ fried chicken (as told by Jinki) did not help even one bit. Kibum still felt light-headed and longed for his soft as marshmallow bed to rest his tired body.
Forty-five minutes late, Jonghyun entered the room and bowed to the teacher apologetically. Fortunately, this teacher likes him too much that she didn’t even ask why the brunet was tardy in the first place and told him to just go to his seat.
The image of Jonghyun flashing him a toothy grin with a heart made by his hands ran across his mind. Again. And there comes the odd sensation that swirled in his stomach. Again. In the end, he felt despicably idiotic for even thinking about that and wasting his thoughts over him.
“God, Kibum.” Jonghyun whined in a complaining tone right before slumping down on his chair. “My head hurts like hell.” He whispers as he winced while maintaining that adorable expression on his face.
“Well, I don’t even remember everything clearly. And Minho lost my freaking contacts, thank you very much.” He replied bitterly, jotting down a mental note to demand that jock for compensation.
“Aww.” The brunet cooed with pouted lips. “At least I do.” He smiled smugly.
Kibum rolled his eyes in return. “Oh, please.” He replied with pride in his voice. “I was bit more sober than you.”
Jonghyun shifted in his chair so that he could face the stubborn blond completely. “Try me.” With a daredevil smirk, he narrowed his eyes.
The diva side-eyed him and raised an eyebrow. “What did you eat?”
“A slice of white forest with a cherry on top.”
“Who was the last person you hugged?”
“Kyuhyun-hyung.”
“Last person you piggy-backed?”
“Cho Jino.”
He propped up his elbow on the desk and rested his chin on his palm, challenging stares shooting directly at Jonghyun. “How did you say goodbye to me last night?”
Jonghyun scoffed before grinning cheekily and forming a heart with his hand.
Kibum’s heartbeat doubled its pace as his feline eyes got bigger. Astonishment and complete disbelief was plastered on his features. “Well, shit. Why do you remember?” he said with a volume that’s a decibel too loud.
But it’s alright, he could get away with it because the teacher had invested great trust in him ever since the day he told her how radiant she looked like - if only Jonghyun would restrain his chuckle with a little more effort and use his undying energy to help him explain instead.
Euphoria filled every laugh, every drink, and every inch of the abode which had vivid strings of neon lights that acted as fluorescent serpents here & there, and a booming vibration of bass from the speakers.
The rapid, lively song has got Jonghyun’s heart strapped down to the beat as he sang every word with a smooth and flawless voice that covered up for his incoherent lyrics.
Kibum was laughing obnoxiously, eyes closed with one hand shoving the hysterical singing boy away and the other hitting his thigh repeatedly.
And that’s about all of it. That’s the only part Kibum remembers - the rest was a blinding, bright-lighted haze.
The next thing he knows, he’s woken up by a pained back, a feather-light head, and a jolt of dizziness. He slept with his head on the kitchen table, and the remaining mass of his body on a chair that puked its own foam out of the fabric.
Jonghyun was soundly snoring, his head of tousled hair thrown back with his eyes slightly open.
Suddenly, Taemin peeked through the entrance of the room and surveyed the scene with blinking eyes and jumbled curls of vermillion as his bed hair. “Kibum-hyung…”
Kibum shook his head groggily and motioned his hand dismissively. “No, Jinki’s not here.” He rasped.
The younger boy’s mouth formed into a small ‘o’ and walked away as he muttered “He’s nowhere, why is he not here? Why?” as his hand scratched his head.
The kitchen smelled greatly of the devil’s food cake that Kibum vaguely remembers eating, and he could still taste the remnants of blush wine on his tongue. His vision spun him around like a merry-go-round at a five second interval, his hair had whipped cream ( he felt the soft, sticky matter as he ran his hand through his golden strands and has no clue on why the hell he would shampoo his hair with whipped cream in the first place. ), he’s wearing Jonghyun’s chain necklace and another one which belongs to God knows who, he felt as if he’s suffering from tonsillitis, and it’s already eleven in the afternoon.
And the worst part is, he’s got two projects to work on, four reports to finish for all the extra-curricular activities he’s got himself into and he doesn’t even know how he can go back to his own house without the help of Jinki - who is currently no where in sight.
Jonghyun woke up, eyes fluttering open and a yawn escaping from his mouth as he stretched. “Good morning!” he says simultaneously with Kibum who mutters a lifeless and monotone “Fuck my life.”
“Shut up, hyung - the both of you - shut up. Ugh, too noisy.” Minho complained in living room with a vocabulary of slurred and sleepy words.
A head of brown hair barged inside the honeysuckle scented room and went directly to Kibum who was busy copy reading an article for their school newspaper.
“Hey there, Kibummie, hey.” He crooned as he called him by his infamous nickname, smiling with summer sunshine.
Kibum looked up from his work, and stared at the boy - who looked a like a very annoying but pitiful lost puppy - with a stoic and expressionless face. “What?” he said right after approximately four seconds.
“Are you free this Saturday?”
“No, I’m expensive.”
“Really funny, Kibum.”
The blond continued to scribble remarks on the literary material as the brunet waited for the copyreader to speak while he inhales the unfamiliar fragrance of ink and pencil dust.
“Jonghyun, no, I just can’t. Sorry.”
He stared at his ceiling with particularly nothing to think about, nothing to say, and nothing to do. His parents visited his grandfather at Italy ( or was it Saipan? Maybe France? Kibum cared less anyway, so whatever. ) and Jonghyun was probably getting his ass drunk at Jaejoong’s house.
Kibum felt the vibration of his phone, only a few centimeters away from falling of the corner of his bed. He exhaled loudly, breaking the silence of the midnight. And after a grunt and a shifting of his position, he reached the device that just won’t stop vibrating.
‘Stupid Dinosaur’, the caller name read - and nobody would even need Sherlock to figure out who that is.
After flipping it open, the sound of a droned pop song that had the slightest echo greeted his ear. “What?” he answered in a lazy voice.
“I wanna go home.” Jonghyun’s slipshod painted slur of words echoed.
“You want me to call a Tyrannosaurus Rex to pick up you up, or can you go to Jurassic Park by yourself?”
“But I can’t,” he continued. “I need you, Kibum.” his words were enough to twist up Kibum’s heart.
Five seconds later, Kibum said “You’re drunk.” And hung up.
Then fifteen minutes later, Kibum was crashing into bodies of stumbling drunkards, and getting nauseated by the smell of hair products, perfume, and face foundation mixed with the stench of smoke, alcohol, and vomit as he cursed grudgingly under his breath.
“Oh! Kibum.” Jinki’s surprised tone froze him up for a short moment.
“Jonghyun.”
And with that, he knows - because Jinki’s smart like that. “Bathroom, upstairs.” He yelled as a loud song boomed from the speakers and shook the walls with the bass.
He rushed his way upstairs, ignoring the spill he stepped on and ignoring how Taemin was obnoxiously laughing as he dragged Minho with Jinki chasing after them. They were drunk - good. ( Because that way, none of them would notice that Kibum is still wearing the fluffy pink slippers that he wears at home. )
The blond finally found Jonghyun sprawled on a dry bathtub, his leather jacket hanging on one side and his hair a disarray of chocolate.
“Wow, look at you. Wow.” He nonchalantly said as he leaned on the doorframe.
“Shut the fuck up, and just get me out of here.” Jonghyun whined as he massaged his temples with one hand, the other holding his phone with the lightest grip.
With much effort, they finally escaped the universe of red plastic cups, spilled drinks, and deafening music. They staggered together - mostly because of the combination of Jonghyun’s force and gravity - until they reached the brunet’s abode.
Kibum waits, and waits, and waits, until he sees the flicker of light from Jonghyun’s bedroom window. He then walks back to his home, that’s only a few meters away, with an opulent smell of tequila on the sleeve of his shirt - warmed by Jonghyun’s breathy slurs against his arm, and creased by the boy’s tight hold.
By the time he reached seven, he stopped counting every time Jonghyun asks him to pick him up from the party. He doesn’t complain anymore, simply because he ran out of vulgarities to squeeze in his rant and he’s too used to the routine of being woken up by a call at midnight - either Jonghyun himself will call him, or Jinki will speak in his overly-concerned voice telling how wasted the brunet is, and at occasional times, Taemin will laugh his creepy, drunk giggle for about five minutes ( along with Minho yelling at him in the background ) then finally tell him to pick up Jonghyun because that was the main reason why he called in the first place. ( And really, there was nothing to laugh about, he just wanted to laugh. Just because. )
“Kibum-ah, I have to tell you something very, very, very important.” the drunkard who was taking desultory strides suddenly placed an arm around him.
Kibum gave him a sideway glance. “Kim Jonghyun, if you’re gonna go and prove your point on how Amber is biologically a male, I am ineffably uninteres-”
“I like you.” The scent of green apple reached his nose while Jonghyun’s breath tickled his ears and sent electrifying shivers down his spine.
He got glued to the spot, digesting in what the brunet just said. Without giving him enough time to brood, Jonghyun pushed him against a brick wall that was filled with graffiti and love confessions written on black marker ink.
He trapped him with arms at either side of the jaded blond, plus a smirk on his face. He then leaned closer. And in a blink of an eye, he was too close that their foreheads were touching and the fragrance of green apple was intensely redolent.
Kibum wanted to break free from the imbroglio.
“I like you the best.” Jonghyun murmured.
On second thought, he doesn’t want to. If a kiss could kill the stupid, sadistic butterflies ( Minho had told him that it was butterflies instead of any other stomach disorder. “Oh, shut up, what butterflies? You need fresh air. Go study ballet. Or confess your eternal love for Taemin. Or Ballet.” Kibum had retorted defensively at the tall boy. ) inside his stomach, then let it be. Though, to his dismay, the brunet stepped away and took clumsy strides after displaying surreptitious smile.
“Fucking tease.” Kibum hissed as he followed him while trying to bore a hole at Jonghyun’s head with his glares.
--
☁ one ; three