SHINee Shorts 2013: pateshie
Title: Signed, sealed, delivered
Author: pateshie
Pairing: Jonghyun/Key
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3210
“Your hair!”
Kibum laughs the way he always does, loud and teetering till he’s out of view. When he pops back into the frame, he’s still grinning.
“What? You don’t like,” he says with a mock gasp. His fringe is up in a ponytail on top of his head and it moves every time he does.
“Oh, no, it’s, um… completely on trend,” Nicole says. Her smile is bright but pixelated and Kibum rues his five-year old laptop once again. He would have planned better had he known his best friend would be halfway across the world but even three months isn’t enough notice when you’re Kim Kibum. His money is mostly otherwise occupied.
“I hate you for leaving,” he says with a sigh after a few seconds of them blinking at each other.
“I hate you for being too poor to visit.” Nicole pokes the lens of her webcam to emphasize her point. “This is all because of your stupid addiction.”
“It’s not an addic- ”
The doorbell cuts him short and Nicole raises her eyebrows.
“Minho?”
Kibum shakes his head sheepishly. “I’m expecting a package.”
“Oh my god, Kim Kibum, get help!” Nicole wails, her voice following him to the front door. He shakes his head and a smile is still big on his face when he opens the door to reveal a man of about his age with chocolate hair and the biggest eyes he’s ever seen.
“Kim Kibum? This is a special delivery!” the man says with a grin and Kibum feels the blood leave his brain at record speed.
“I - package - ordered… you?”
“Me?” The man repeats, pointing at himself, and Kibum nods. He feels his face heat up when the stranger bursts into laughter. “No, I’m Kim Jonghyun, I work for Super Seoul Deliveries.” The man holds up a neatly papered box. “This is your package.”
“Yes, of course,” Kibum says with a weak laugh. “I was, um, making a joke.”
“Of course.” Jonghyun’s voice is lightly teasing and he winks when he adds, “The customer is always right, after all.”
Kibum ignores it, choosing to preserve his sanity. It’s not every day you open your front door and see what looks an awful lot like the man of your dreams. “Where do I sign?”
“Right here,” Jonghyun says, pulling a clipboard out of his sling bag. Kibum takes it and the pen that follows. He quickly scribbles his name in the right box and hands both back. Jonghyun checks it and, satisfied, turns the package over to him.
Kibum is tucking it into the crook of his elbow, perching it on his hipbone, when he feels eyes on him.
“Cute hair,” Jonghyun says and Kibum flushes all over again. “Maybe I’ll see you again, Kim Kibum.” With those words and a little salute, Jonghyun turns on his heel and ambles down the corridor, whistling loudly. In a few seconds he’s out of view, and Kibum snaps out of his trance and shuts the door.
He takes a long breath or two, remarkably calm until he’s back in front of his laptop and the package is safe on his table.
Even thousands of miles away, Nicole’s best friend sense is intact.
“What took you so long?” she demands and Kibum lets out a loud squeal before recounting the past ten minutes. There’s no point resisting.
This Jonghyun is going to be trouble.
“Another?” is how Jonghyun greets him when Kibum opens his door and finds the other boy outside it for the fourth time in twelve days.
“Yeah,” Kibum says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s sale season plus midterms are coming up. I’m a nervous shopper, you could say.”
Jonghyun makes no move to retrieve his clipboard, curious as always. “What do you study?”
“Art. Mostly graphic design but some traditional too.”
“Cool. I’m majoring in composition.”
“You’re in college too?” Kibum asks and Jonghyun nods.
“Yeah, this job is just a part time thing. I need the money, having a social life is expensive.”
“God, I should get one too. Is it just me or does money just buy less now?”
Jonghyun laughs. “It might be your shopping that’s shrinking your wallet but let me know if you’re looking. I could put in a good word. Or two. Or more.”
Kibum mirrors his grin. Over the past few meetings he’s learnt a few things about the other man. He can be pretty restless, even in the ten or so minutes he’s in front of Kibum. He’s always shifting his weight or humming the latest pop songs or happily peering past Kibum into his apartment. That and he’s a shameless flirt.
“I wouldn’t mind. It might be fun working together,” he says. It’s a big statement considering they’ve talked for all of an hour in total. But something about Jonghyun is so easygoing that Kibum knows he wouldn’t mind the other man’s company. And from the way Jonghyun’s lips quirk, it looks like he wouldn’t mind having Kibum around either.
“Let me know when you’re officially on the market then.”
“I will,” Kibum says, “But in the meantime we’ll just have to make do with me buying things online and forcing you to come here.”
“Getting forced to deliver easy to carry packages to a mysterious artist type? My life could be a lot worse.” Jonghyun laughs again and hands Kibum his package. “Here, before we get distracted again.”
“You need help,” Minho says. “Like seriously.”
Kibum would deny it but his credit card bill clearly says otherwise.
“I just,” he tries but Minho shifts two new packages off his bed and takes their spot, shaking his head.
“You just need to grow a pair and ask this guy out before you go bankrupt. He’s made it pretty clear he’s gay and willing.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know, alright,” Kibum groans, covering his face with his favorite orange cushion. “But, Minho,” he says a few seconds later, voice muffled. “I’ll have to order something to get him here, right? Right?”
“Sadly, yes,” Minho says. A loud ting echos through the apartment and the taller boy gets up. “That’s dinner. I’ll set the table, just try to drag your broke ass there before it gets cold.”
“Ok.” Kibum is still behind his cushion, in a simpler world where he can’t see anything, especially not the blatant judgment on Minho’s face.
“Oh, and don’t expect me to protect you when the bank comes for you,” Minho adds on his way out and Kibum reaches around for his new earmuffs. He’s slipping them on when the gravity of his situation hits him.
It’s not even winter. Kibum is whipped.
“Hold up!” Jonghyun’s voice calls from down the corridor, making Kibum pull his key out of the keyhole and turn around.
“You’re late.” He shakes one finger in the other man’s direction as he comes closer.
“What can I say, I saved the best for last,” Jonghyun says with a cheesy grin and Kibum feels his irritation, overwhelmingly fake as it had been, melting away. “Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, it’s a friend’s birthday.”
Jonghyun waves a small, brown-papered box. “Don’t need this?”
“Not tonight. This is what I ordered last time,” he says, gesturing to his new navy blazer with gold detailing.
“Classy. It suits you. And your hair, makes the blonde pop.” Jonghyun twirls one finger and it takes Kibum a second to realize what it means. He turns around slowly, relishing the way Jonghyun’s eyes scan him. The blazer fits perfectly, hugging the small of his back and joining his jeans in accentuating his fantastic ass.
“Thank you, thank you,” Kibum says dramatically once he’s facing Jonghyun again. The other man laughs when he bows with a flourish.
“Autograph, please!”
Kibum takes the now familiar clipboard and signs it without a second glance.
“Wait here, we can walk down together,” he instructs when Jonghyun hands the dainty package over to him. He walks back in and deposits it on the first flat surface he sees before hurrying back out and locking his door.
“Let’s go.”
The first flight of stairs passes in a companionable silence.
“Hey, didn’t you say you have exams?” Jonghyun asks as they’re halfway down the second.
“I do,” Kibum says. “But there’s still like, ten days!”
“Ok,” Jonghyun says but his eyes are teasing and Kibum resists the urge to playfully shove him down the rest of the stairs.
“What are you, my mom?” He rolls his eyes.
“No, just a concerned friend.”
Kibum can’t help smiling at that.
“Well then, as a concerned friend, can I ask you how long you’ve been working today?”
“Five hours. It’s been a long day,” Jonghyun admits.
“Hey,” Kibum says suddenly. “Why don’t you come with me? It’s a small group and my friends don’t bite, I swear. You look like you could use it plus I feel like I owe you one. It’s my fault you’re not at home right now.”
“You really don’t owe me anything.” Jonghyun waves him off.
“I’m serious! Come on. The club is like, three minutes away.”
“You sure?” Jonghyun asks, eyebrows rising and Kibum nods furiously.
“Absolutely! I’m buying, you shouldn’t pass up a free drink.”
“Alright then, looks like we have a plan. Let me just lose the dorky jacket and then I will escort you to tonight’s chosen revelry,” he says, stroking the material of his jacket with a grimace. It’s a cheap plastic, probably waterproof, with SSD imprinted on the back. Its washed out shade of green doesn’t do Jonghyun any justice and it definitely doesn’t do his body justice. Once it’s off and tucked into his scooter’s locker, Kibum realizes the man is beautiful in more than one place. His fitted black t-shirt accentuates his strong arms and tiny waist. Paired with his jeans and bright red sneakers, it gives Jonghyun the kind of casual good looks Kibum can only dream of having.
“Let’s go?” Jonghyun asks, bringing Kibum’s attention back up.
“Let’s go!”
“What?” Kibum yells and Jonghyun laughs, pressing closer. This small gesture makes Kibum more lightheaded than any of the two drinks and four shots he’s had since the night begun. His voice is hoarse after all the screaming matches he’s had with the music. There’s a damp spot on his jeans where Minho spilt his beer and there’s a lump in his throat from the way Jonghyun’s eyes catch the light.
“I want a smoke,” Jonghyun whispers in his ear and, somehow, it cuts through everything - the music, the laughter, the voices. Kibum nods and follows Jonghyun out through the back door. The world is spinning lightly but Kibum is feeling invincible.
“Jesus,” Jonghyun barks once the door is shut and the roaring crowd disappears behind it. His hands dig through his pockets for his lighter. “I thought you said it was a small birthday thing. This place is crazy!”
Kibum has the decency to smile sheepishly but his body is still moving to the faraway bass. “Jinki-hyung only parties twice a year: once on his birthday and once on his boyfriend’s. So we try to make sure both nights are pretty wild.”
Jonghyun takes a drag and tilting his head back, lets the smoke out in a steady string. Kibum watches the muscles work beneath his skin. The slight purple of his lips is explained now.
“What time is it,” Jonghyun asks and Kibum checks his chunky gold watch.
“It’s almost one.”
“Fuck, I have a class at 8.”
“Fuck class,” Kibum interjects helpfully.
“I don’t think I’ve quite had enough to do that.” Jonghyun laughs.
“Fine. Go.” Kibum pouts and turns to go back inside.
“Hey.”
“What?” Kibum turns around.
“Come here,” Jonghyun says, dropping his cigarette and stubbing it with his sneaker. Kibum’s heartbeat rises in his chest, the lump in his throat the size of a football by the time he’s walked over. This close, it is obvious just how tiny Jonghyun is and Kibum bites back a smile.
“I had a great time,” Jonghyun whispers. His eyes are bigger than ever, looking up into Kibum’s and freezing him in place. And they only get bigger as Jonghyun steps closer and gently kisses him on the cheek. “Goodnight, Kibum.”
Jonghyun turns away quickly, something small and shy in the way he walks away, down the dark alley and into the busy street, missing Kibum’s radiant smile completely.
“Oh, God,” Kibum groans and buries his face in Jinki’s couch. “How much did I drink.”
“Well, when you got there with your admittedly hot friend, you had a lot and proceeded to parade yourself in front of him. After he left, you came back in, screeched something and proceeded to have twice the amount you previously had.”
Even though it does nothing for his splitting headache, Kibum can’t do anything about the huge grin that works its way across his face.
“Good news?” Jinki asks, sprawled on the sofa across his.
“I’m pretty sure he likes me back.”
“Did your shameless grinding finally give him a boner?”
Kibum feels around for a cushion and throws it in the general direction of Jinki’s voice. “No, it just got me a kiss on the cheek. Anyway he seems like the romantic type. He’s always dropping cheesy lines.”
“So when’s the wedding?”
“Very funny. We haven’t even had a real date yet. Why couldn’t your boyfriend have celebrated with a nice dinner?”
“Candlelit and a table for two people who are not us? I’ll have to pass. You should ask your boy out for a hangover coffee.”
“First sensible thing you’ve said today,” Kibum says and slowly opens his eyes. The strong sunlight makes his head throb. “Where’s my phone?”
“On the kitchen counter. You’re welcome.”
“Thanks, babe.” Kibum grins and, swinging his legs, drags himself off the couch. He’s halfway to the kitchen when he stops dead. “Jinki!”
“What?”
“I don’t have his number!”
Kibum’s been sitting with his head in his hands for half an hour before Jinki deems himself fit enough to make his way to the kitchen and attempt to help him.
“It’s alright,” he says, patting Kibum’s head on his way to the fridge.
“It’s not!”
“Kibum, he knows where you live. He’ll come by.”
“Yeah, but, who knows when? What if he thinks me not saying anything was a rejection?”
“Bummie, believe me, you said more than enough last night.”
Kibum lets out another noise of despair. “I miss him.”
“Then go home. I think it’s the right idea.”
“You just want me out of your hair.” Kibum sits up straight, throwing Jinki a dirty look.
“I won’t deny it,” Jinki says, biting into an apple. “You’re too high maintenance and I’m too sober for it.”
“You’re an alcoholic, you know that, right?”
“I barely go out!”
“You don’t. You drink at home. First sign of an alcoholic.”
Jinki flips him off calmly before taking a seat across him on his tiny kitchen table. Kibum returns his aching head to the comfort of his crossed arms and after a few noisy bites of his apple, Jinki joins him. They fall asleep again soon enough. When Kibum wakes up next, a big crick in his neck, Jinki has moved to his bed.
Kibum lets himself out. The short walk to his apartment takes some of the fuzz out of his head but he’s still nervous.
“It’s been three days,” Kibum says and he must look worried because Minho actually pauses his PlayStation.
“Kibum, maybe he’s been busy. I really think you should be studying.”
“Do you think I should order something? It’d be a sign, right, that I’m still interested?”
“Yeah, sure.” Minho stretches in his chair. There’s an open can of beer dangerously close to his feet and on any normal day, Kibum would be leaping out of his chair to put it away. Today, however, is not any normal day. There’s been no sign of Jonghyun since that night and Kibum is getting more and more worried.
“Hey,” Minho says, “why don’t you order a lifetime supply of condoms? That should give him the right message.”
“You’re the worst friend ever. Seriously.”
“Look, give the dude some time, alright? Maybe there have been too many deliveries lately. It’s close to Valentine’s Day!”
“Maybe,” Kibum says sullenly.
“I really think you need to study. You can’t ruin your near perfect GPA over some random boy.”
“He’s not some random boy, but you’re right, I guess.”
Minho gives Kibum a satisfied look and resumes his game. Sometimes Kibum actually envied him. Being in love with a gaming console must be a lot easier than falling for real people.
Kibum has made his way through two exams, thirty one cups of coffee and hundreds of pages of notes when Jonghyun finally shows up. It’s 5AM on a day off and he wakes up with the same kind of dull ache in his chest he’s had for the past week. Minho grunts from his room as Kibum walks past.
The doorbell rings again and Kibum, his eyes scrunched up with sleep, wrenches it open to find, for the second time in a month, what he now knows is the man of his dreams.
This time around he looks like a puppy that’s been scolded, like he should have a tail trembling between his legs, but all he has is a big bunch of roses in his hands.
“Special delivery,” Jonghyun says weakly and Kibum hides one hand behind his back, pinching himself to make sure he’s awake. “I’m so sorry, Kibum. It’s been a rough week and I wanted to do this properly and I wanted to make it special but I couldn’t sleep all night and I thought fuck it, I just want to ask you out already.”
Kibum wants to say something like I hate you, but instead he says, “Where did you get roses at five in the morning?”
Jonghyun lets out a relieved laugh. “That shouldn’t be a concern as long as you don’t read the note.” He holds them out and Kibum takes them. The bouquet is enormous and he hugs it close, almost hiding behind it.
“Now what?” Kibum says. He hates how small and hurt his voice sounds despite everything.
“Now you let me in and I’ll make everything better.” Jonghyun reaches past the roses and kisses his forehead softly. “Okay?”
Kibum nods and, clamping the fingers of one hand around Jonghyun’s wrist, leads him inside his apartment and to his bedroom.
“Hey, aren’t we moving a bit fast?” Jonghyun says with a giggle and Kibum shoves him in the direction of bed.
“No, so don’t get any ideas,” he warns and sets the roses on his desk. “Just lie down.”
Jonghyun slips his shoes off, his eyes examining Kibum’s room, running over the paintings on the walls and the stacks of Vogue next to his bed. He sinks into the extra pillow wordlessly, his soft hair splaying and catching the morning light.
Kibum pads over and takes the spot next to him. He reaches for Jonghyun’s hand and slips their fingers together.
“Hi,” he says with a small smile.
Author: pateshie
Pairing: Jonghyun/Key
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3210
“Your hair!”
Kibum laughs the way he always does, loud and teetering till he’s out of view. When he pops back into the frame, he’s still grinning.
“What? You don’t like,” he says with a mock gasp. His fringe is up in a ponytail on top of his head and it moves every time he does.
“Oh, no, it’s, um… completely on trend,” Nicole says. Her smile is bright but pixelated and Kibum rues his five-year old laptop once again. He would have planned better had he known his best friend would be halfway across the world but even three months isn’t enough notice when you’re Kim Kibum. His money is mostly otherwise occupied.
“I hate you for leaving,” he says with a sigh after a few seconds of them blinking at each other.
“I hate you for being too poor to visit.” Nicole pokes the lens of her webcam to emphasize her point. “This is all because of your stupid addiction.”
“It’s not an addic- ”
The doorbell cuts him short and Nicole raises her eyebrows.
“Minho?”
Kibum shakes his head sheepishly. “I’m expecting a package.”
“Oh my god, Kim Kibum, get help!” Nicole wails, her voice following him to the front door. He shakes his head and a smile is still big on his face when he opens the door to reveal a man of about his age with chocolate hair and the biggest eyes he’s ever seen.
“Kim Kibum? This is a special delivery!” the man says with a grin and Kibum feels the blood leave his brain at record speed.
“I - package - ordered… you?”
“Me?” The man repeats, pointing at himself, and Kibum nods. He feels his face heat up when the stranger bursts into laughter. “No, I’m Kim Jonghyun, I work for Super Seoul Deliveries.” The man holds up a neatly papered box. “This is your package.”
“Yes, of course,” Kibum says with a weak laugh. “I was, um, making a joke.”
“Of course.” Jonghyun’s voice is lightly teasing and he winks when he adds, “The customer is always right, after all.”
Kibum ignores it, choosing to preserve his sanity. It’s not every day you open your front door and see what looks an awful lot like the man of your dreams. “Where do I sign?”
“Right here,” Jonghyun says, pulling a clipboard out of his sling bag. Kibum takes it and the pen that follows. He quickly scribbles his name in the right box and hands both back. Jonghyun checks it and, satisfied, turns the package over to him.
Kibum is tucking it into the crook of his elbow, perching it on his hipbone, when he feels eyes on him.
“Cute hair,” Jonghyun says and Kibum flushes all over again. “Maybe I’ll see you again, Kim Kibum.” With those words and a little salute, Jonghyun turns on his heel and ambles down the corridor, whistling loudly. In a few seconds he’s out of view, and Kibum snaps out of his trance and shuts the door.
He takes a long breath or two, remarkably calm until he’s back in front of his laptop and the package is safe on his table.
Even thousands of miles away, Nicole’s best friend sense is intact.
“What took you so long?” she demands and Kibum lets out a loud squeal before recounting the past ten minutes. There’s no point resisting.
This Jonghyun is going to be trouble.
“Another?” is how Jonghyun greets him when Kibum opens his door and finds the other boy outside it for the fourth time in twelve days.
“Yeah,” Kibum says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s sale season plus midterms are coming up. I’m a nervous shopper, you could say.”
Jonghyun makes no move to retrieve his clipboard, curious as always. “What do you study?”
“Art. Mostly graphic design but some traditional too.”
“Cool. I’m majoring in composition.”
“You’re in college too?” Kibum asks and Jonghyun nods.
“Yeah, this job is just a part time thing. I need the money, having a social life is expensive.”
“God, I should get one too. Is it just me or does money just buy less now?”
Jonghyun laughs. “It might be your shopping that’s shrinking your wallet but let me know if you’re looking. I could put in a good word. Or two. Or more.”
Kibum mirrors his grin. Over the past few meetings he’s learnt a few things about the other man. He can be pretty restless, even in the ten or so minutes he’s in front of Kibum. He’s always shifting his weight or humming the latest pop songs or happily peering past Kibum into his apartment. That and he’s a shameless flirt.
“I wouldn’t mind. It might be fun working together,” he says. It’s a big statement considering they’ve talked for all of an hour in total. But something about Jonghyun is so easygoing that Kibum knows he wouldn’t mind the other man’s company. And from the way Jonghyun’s lips quirk, it looks like he wouldn’t mind having Kibum around either.
“Let me know when you’re officially on the market then.”
“I will,” Kibum says, “But in the meantime we’ll just have to make do with me buying things online and forcing you to come here.”
“Getting forced to deliver easy to carry packages to a mysterious artist type? My life could be a lot worse.” Jonghyun laughs again and hands Kibum his package. “Here, before we get distracted again.”
“You need help,” Minho says. “Like seriously.”
Kibum would deny it but his credit card bill clearly says otherwise.
“I just,” he tries but Minho shifts two new packages off his bed and takes their spot, shaking his head.
“You just need to grow a pair and ask this guy out before you go bankrupt. He’s made it pretty clear he’s gay and willing.”
“I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know, alright,” Kibum groans, covering his face with his favorite orange cushion. “But, Minho,” he says a few seconds later, voice muffled. “I’ll have to order something to get him here, right? Right?”
“Sadly, yes,” Minho says. A loud ting echos through the apartment and the taller boy gets up. “That’s dinner. I’ll set the table, just try to drag your broke ass there before it gets cold.”
“Ok.” Kibum is still behind his cushion, in a simpler world where he can’t see anything, especially not the blatant judgment on Minho’s face.
“Oh, and don’t expect me to protect you when the bank comes for you,” Minho adds on his way out and Kibum reaches around for his new earmuffs. He’s slipping them on when the gravity of his situation hits him.
It’s not even winter. Kibum is whipped.
“Hold up!” Jonghyun’s voice calls from down the corridor, making Kibum pull his key out of the keyhole and turn around.
“You’re late.” He shakes one finger in the other man’s direction as he comes closer.
“What can I say, I saved the best for last,” Jonghyun says with a cheesy grin and Kibum feels his irritation, overwhelmingly fake as it had been, melting away. “Going somewhere?”
“Yeah, it’s a friend’s birthday.”
Jonghyun waves a small, brown-papered box. “Don’t need this?”
“Not tonight. This is what I ordered last time,” he says, gesturing to his new navy blazer with gold detailing.
“Classy. It suits you. And your hair, makes the blonde pop.” Jonghyun twirls one finger and it takes Kibum a second to realize what it means. He turns around slowly, relishing the way Jonghyun’s eyes scan him. The blazer fits perfectly, hugging the small of his back and joining his jeans in accentuating his fantastic ass.
“Thank you, thank you,” Kibum says dramatically once he’s facing Jonghyun again. The other man laughs when he bows with a flourish.
“Autograph, please!”
Kibum takes the now familiar clipboard and signs it without a second glance.
“Wait here, we can walk down together,” he instructs when Jonghyun hands the dainty package over to him. He walks back in and deposits it on the first flat surface he sees before hurrying back out and locking his door.
“Let’s go.”
The first flight of stairs passes in a companionable silence.
“Hey, didn’t you say you have exams?” Jonghyun asks as they’re halfway down the second.
“I do,” Kibum says. “But there’s still like, ten days!”
“Ok,” Jonghyun says but his eyes are teasing and Kibum resists the urge to playfully shove him down the rest of the stairs.
“What are you, my mom?” He rolls his eyes.
“No, just a concerned friend.”
Kibum can’t help smiling at that.
“Well then, as a concerned friend, can I ask you how long you’ve been working today?”
“Five hours. It’s been a long day,” Jonghyun admits.
“Hey,” Kibum says suddenly. “Why don’t you come with me? It’s a small group and my friends don’t bite, I swear. You look like you could use it plus I feel like I owe you one. It’s my fault you’re not at home right now.”
“You really don’t owe me anything.” Jonghyun waves him off.
“I’m serious! Come on. The club is like, three minutes away.”
“You sure?” Jonghyun asks, eyebrows rising and Kibum nods furiously.
“Absolutely! I’m buying, you shouldn’t pass up a free drink.”
“Alright then, looks like we have a plan. Let me just lose the dorky jacket and then I will escort you to tonight’s chosen revelry,” he says, stroking the material of his jacket with a grimace. It’s a cheap plastic, probably waterproof, with SSD imprinted on the back. Its washed out shade of green doesn’t do Jonghyun any justice and it definitely doesn’t do his body justice. Once it’s off and tucked into his scooter’s locker, Kibum realizes the man is beautiful in more than one place. His fitted black t-shirt accentuates his strong arms and tiny waist. Paired with his jeans and bright red sneakers, it gives Jonghyun the kind of casual good looks Kibum can only dream of having.
“Let’s go?” Jonghyun asks, bringing Kibum’s attention back up.
“Let’s go!”
“What?” Kibum yells and Jonghyun laughs, pressing closer. This small gesture makes Kibum more lightheaded than any of the two drinks and four shots he’s had since the night begun. His voice is hoarse after all the screaming matches he’s had with the music. There’s a damp spot on his jeans where Minho spilt his beer and there’s a lump in his throat from the way Jonghyun’s eyes catch the light.
“I want a smoke,” Jonghyun whispers in his ear and, somehow, it cuts through everything - the music, the laughter, the voices. Kibum nods and follows Jonghyun out through the back door. The world is spinning lightly but Kibum is feeling invincible.
“Jesus,” Jonghyun barks once the door is shut and the roaring crowd disappears behind it. His hands dig through his pockets for his lighter. “I thought you said it was a small birthday thing. This place is crazy!”
Kibum has the decency to smile sheepishly but his body is still moving to the faraway bass. “Jinki-hyung only parties twice a year: once on his birthday and once on his boyfriend’s. So we try to make sure both nights are pretty wild.”
Jonghyun takes a drag and tilting his head back, lets the smoke out in a steady string. Kibum watches the muscles work beneath his skin. The slight purple of his lips is explained now.
“What time is it,” Jonghyun asks and Kibum checks his chunky gold watch.
“It’s almost one.”
“Fuck, I have a class at 8.”
“Fuck class,” Kibum interjects helpfully.
“I don’t think I’ve quite had enough to do that.” Jonghyun laughs.
“Fine. Go.” Kibum pouts and turns to go back inside.
“Hey.”
“What?” Kibum turns around.
“Come here,” Jonghyun says, dropping his cigarette and stubbing it with his sneaker. Kibum’s heartbeat rises in his chest, the lump in his throat the size of a football by the time he’s walked over. This close, it is obvious just how tiny Jonghyun is and Kibum bites back a smile.
“I had a great time,” Jonghyun whispers. His eyes are bigger than ever, looking up into Kibum’s and freezing him in place. And they only get bigger as Jonghyun steps closer and gently kisses him on the cheek. “Goodnight, Kibum.”
Jonghyun turns away quickly, something small and shy in the way he walks away, down the dark alley and into the busy street, missing Kibum’s radiant smile completely.
“Oh, God,” Kibum groans and buries his face in Jinki’s couch. “How much did I drink.”
“Well, when you got there with your admittedly hot friend, you had a lot and proceeded to parade yourself in front of him. After he left, you came back in, screeched something and proceeded to have twice the amount you previously had.”
Even though it does nothing for his splitting headache, Kibum can’t do anything about the huge grin that works its way across his face.
“Good news?” Jinki asks, sprawled on the sofa across his.
“I’m pretty sure he likes me back.”
“Did your shameless grinding finally give him a boner?”
Kibum feels around for a cushion and throws it in the general direction of Jinki’s voice. “No, it just got me a kiss on the cheek. Anyway he seems like the romantic type. He’s always dropping cheesy lines.”
“So when’s the wedding?”
“Very funny. We haven’t even had a real date yet. Why couldn’t your boyfriend have celebrated with a nice dinner?”
“Candlelit and a table for two people who are not us? I’ll have to pass. You should ask your boy out for a hangover coffee.”
“First sensible thing you’ve said today,” Kibum says and slowly opens his eyes. The strong sunlight makes his head throb. “Where’s my phone?”
“On the kitchen counter. You’re welcome.”
“Thanks, babe.” Kibum grins and, swinging his legs, drags himself off the couch. He’s halfway to the kitchen when he stops dead. “Jinki!”
“What?”
“I don’t have his number!”
Kibum’s been sitting with his head in his hands for half an hour before Jinki deems himself fit enough to make his way to the kitchen and attempt to help him.
“It’s alright,” he says, patting Kibum’s head on his way to the fridge.
“It’s not!”
“Kibum, he knows where you live. He’ll come by.”
“Yeah, but, who knows when? What if he thinks me not saying anything was a rejection?”
“Bummie, believe me, you said more than enough last night.”
Kibum lets out another noise of despair. “I miss him.”
“Then go home. I think it’s the right idea.”
“You just want me out of your hair.” Kibum sits up straight, throwing Jinki a dirty look.
“I won’t deny it,” Jinki says, biting into an apple. “You’re too high maintenance and I’m too sober for it.”
“You’re an alcoholic, you know that, right?”
“I barely go out!”
“You don’t. You drink at home. First sign of an alcoholic.”
Jinki flips him off calmly before taking a seat across him on his tiny kitchen table. Kibum returns his aching head to the comfort of his crossed arms and after a few noisy bites of his apple, Jinki joins him. They fall asleep again soon enough. When Kibum wakes up next, a big crick in his neck, Jinki has moved to his bed.
Kibum lets himself out. The short walk to his apartment takes some of the fuzz out of his head but he’s still nervous.
“It’s been three days,” Kibum says and he must look worried because Minho actually pauses his PlayStation.
“Kibum, maybe he’s been busy. I really think you should be studying.”
“Do you think I should order something? It’d be a sign, right, that I’m still interested?”
“Yeah, sure.” Minho stretches in his chair. There’s an open can of beer dangerously close to his feet and on any normal day, Kibum would be leaping out of his chair to put it away. Today, however, is not any normal day. There’s been no sign of Jonghyun since that night and Kibum is getting more and more worried.
“Hey,” Minho says, “why don’t you order a lifetime supply of condoms? That should give him the right message.”
“You’re the worst friend ever. Seriously.”
“Look, give the dude some time, alright? Maybe there have been too many deliveries lately. It’s close to Valentine’s Day!”
“Maybe,” Kibum says sullenly.
“I really think you need to study. You can’t ruin your near perfect GPA over some random boy.”
“He’s not some random boy, but you’re right, I guess.”
Minho gives Kibum a satisfied look and resumes his game. Sometimes Kibum actually envied him. Being in love with a gaming console must be a lot easier than falling for real people.
Kibum has made his way through two exams, thirty one cups of coffee and hundreds of pages of notes when Jonghyun finally shows up. It’s 5AM on a day off and he wakes up with the same kind of dull ache in his chest he’s had for the past week. Minho grunts from his room as Kibum walks past.
The doorbell rings again and Kibum, his eyes scrunched up with sleep, wrenches it open to find, for the second time in a month, what he now knows is the man of his dreams.
This time around he looks like a puppy that’s been scolded, like he should have a tail trembling between his legs, but all he has is a big bunch of roses in his hands.
“Special delivery,” Jonghyun says weakly and Kibum hides one hand behind his back, pinching himself to make sure he’s awake. “I’m so sorry, Kibum. It’s been a rough week and I wanted to do this properly and I wanted to make it special but I couldn’t sleep all night and I thought fuck it, I just want to ask you out already.”
Kibum wants to say something like I hate you, but instead he says, “Where did you get roses at five in the morning?”
Jonghyun lets out a relieved laugh. “That shouldn’t be a concern as long as you don’t read the note.” He holds them out and Kibum takes them. The bouquet is enormous and he hugs it close, almost hiding behind it.
“Now what?” Kibum says. He hates how small and hurt his voice sounds despite everything.
“Now you let me in and I’ll make everything better.” Jonghyun reaches past the roses and kisses his forehead softly. “Okay?”
Kibum nods and, clamping the fingers of one hand around Jonghyun’s wrist, leads him inside his apartment and to his bedroom.
“Hey, aren’t we moving a bit fast?” Jonghyun says with a giggle and Kibum shoves him in the direction of bed.
“No, so don’t get any ideas,” he warns and sets the roses on his desk. “Just lie down.”
Jonghyun slips his shoes off, his eyes examining Kibum’s room, running over the paintings on the walls and the stacks of Vogue next to his bed. He sinks into the extra pillow wordlessly, his soft hair splaying and catching the morning light.
Kibum pads over and takes the spot next to him. He reaches for Jonghyun’s hand and slips their fingers together.
“Hi,” he says with a small smile.