SHINee fanfic: Of all the mistakes in history
Title: Of All the Mistakes In History
Pairing: Jongkey
Genre: angst covered by humor.
Rating: PG-16
Warnings: strong language. more alcohol & sexual references
Summary: Key wakes up from another "mistake" -- the best one night stand -- with his best friend.
Disclaimer: the guys belong to SM.
Length: 3/4 (1564 words) Part 4
He did a doozy. There was no other way around it; he did a doozy, will eventually pay for it dearly (God knows how), and Key desperately needs a distraction. A decent, first-class, distraction. Now.
After the horrifying shock briefly dulled his senses, Key finally spots his phone (for the first time?) laying innocently on the wooden surface of the kitchen table. It seems to be acting just like the bottles; mocking him, but it’ll soon provide means of escape so he doesn’t necessarily make a note to really care.
Key snatches the phone, plays his ringer and as the ring tone stops playing, then holds it to his ear. “Hello,” he politely fakes, and although there’s no one really on the other line, he pretends his acting skills are just that great -- even though they aren’t -- because he seriously needs this to work.
“Uh, yeah,” Key continues the conversation with himself (purposefully on the loud side, so Jonghyun can hear) , pausing to give the illusion that there’s someone speaking. A couple of genuinely fake Hum’s and Ah’s later, with a conclusive “Okay,” Key pretends to end the call.
He casually strides over to the front door (at least tries). “Taemin wants to see me really quick, I’ll be back later,” he calls down the narrow hallway, sets his hand on the doorknob. There’s a grumble that sounds mysteriously like “what, gonna fuck him too,” but Key scoffs and disregards that, steps out the door and slams it.
All for good measure.
The amount of time that passes while Key is gone is unknown, but when the door swings open and he sidles through the threshold into the dorm and gives an unenthusiastic “I’m back,” it’s early evening.
“Oh,” Jonghyun dryly welcomes, from sitting in front of the computer as Key moves to plop down on the couch. “I was wondering where you went.”
Key shoots him a glare before reaching and seizing the remote to the T.V. “Don’t be a dumb ass,” turns it on, flips the channel, “I told you--”
“--Taemin is out of town.”
Well, he sure as hell didn’t know that. “Taemin? I thought I said Onew,” panic must be kept a minimum, at all costs.
“Jinki-hyung is with him,” Jonghyun doesn’t bother to look up at he scribbles something into his notebook. “Minho flew to Japan to do a photo shoot.” Then there’s a great deal of ear-ringing silence (even if the T.V is on.)
Key thinks the tension grew a new leg. Quite possibly. A plan is required.
He gets up, shuffles into the kitchen. Opens the refrigerator door, sticks his head in (there’s cold apple juice in there and maybe a healthy dose of sanity.) Pulls the container out, grabs a couple of glasses, and fills them both halfway. The juice now has a new role -- acting as peacemaker and a nerve-stimulating substance. Better than Key himself playing that role, anyway.
A glass of apple juice in each hand, Key makes his way out of the kitchen, into the living room, towards Jonghyun (still sitting in front of the computer with that stupid-ass notebook.)
“Let’s talk,” extends one glass to Jonghyun; who takes it, slowly swivels the chair around to watch Key take his seat on the couch.
Suppressing these images he has growing in his head, Key takes one of those chance glances at Jonghyun before his gaze travels down back to the contents of his glass.
Thoughts can’t stay away for much longer, though.
“I don’t even know why I’m drinking,” Key snorts, amusement laced around his voice. “I don’t even make the age requirement.”
A kiss. “The law doesn’t control these kinda situations,” Jonghyun breathes hotly into his ear.
“Since when were you a rebel?”
“Since,” Jonghyun acts as if he’s seriously thinking. “I met this sexy devil,” and pulls away from nibbling on Key‘s earlobe, half-lidded eyes looking him up and down, “known as Kim Kibum.”
“Undressing me with your eyes?” Key purrs.
He bites his lip. “Much more than that,” Jonghyun seals that statement with a fervent kiss.
There’s an endless string of curses going through his head, but Key pushes those -- and those damning memories -- down. Except for what he wants to say. “I wanna talk about it,” but his voice is still stiff, like cardboard.
“About what,” he sets the notebook in his lap, a quarter of the apple juice gone.
Key grips his glass before recalling that diplomacy doesn’t consist of murderous looks and hostility. “You know what,” he manages to grit out.
Jonghyun hums. “Taemin?”
“No,” rubs one side of his temple when he feels the hammering return.
Silence.
Key remembers the apple juice. Drink the apple juice. “Listen,” he says, forcing himself not to roll his eyes (it‘s impossible to do that and look sincere at the same time). “It shouldn’t end like-- I wanna be friends, and I don’t wanna forget,” apple juice reinforcements are needed, “I really do care.”
The words are left to float in the air; the pause that grows taking up just about all the oxygen left in the room.
“Okay,” Jonghyun drawls, places his empty glass near the computer monitor, pen at work once more. “Did you rehearse that?” And Key tosses his own empty glass on the floor, lets out a cross between a frustrated scream and a failing car motor. His feet promptly stomp to the only door leading outside (the echo of it slamming for probably the 5th time that day.)
“Coward,” he hisses into the aftermath.
It was fortunate enough that he manages to get out of the house before he could completely derail himself from the track of Self Control. He didn’t mean to run away -- though Key doesn’t necessarily see it as running away (taking a break is what he likes to call it) -- but Jonghyun was using sarcasm, that biting sarcasm that really hurts. Key can’t recall a time where Jonghyun actually used sarcasm, he was just so blunt, but now he’s witnessed that he’s damn good at it.
Physically aware of the outside world, Key finally realizes where his feet are taking him. The playground he’d discovered earlier, and before he could think again, his hand reaches out to still a rocking swing.
From his place on the swing, he ends up becoming a spectator of a sunset. The silent growth of the night mingling with the remnants of the day; bright, yellow and orange streaks coming from the grand fireball slowly setting in the sky. The vibrant strips came in contact with the indigo moving in from the distance, in the middle where they crossed -- a deep scarlet -- crimson blood smeared smoothly across the battlefield of the other colors. Although tall buildings block the sinking sun, seemingly penetrating the sky, but Key still thought it was stunning. A pretty sight to behold indeed. Even if he wasn’t somewhere on the beach tucked under the arm of--
There will be no thinking of that. Ever again.
“Jonghyun?” Key wasn’t expecting an answer but the body next to him grunts in response. “C-can I ask you something?”
An eyelid opens. “When did you ask permissions to ask questions,” comes the sleepy mumble.
“Um…”
Jonghyun props himself on his elbows, voice turning into an amused tone. “Are you being shy?”
Key slugs a punch at the other boy’s chest. “No!” Jonghyun begins to wheeze with laughter. “Shut up, I‘m serious,” he hisses, and the annoying sounds eventually cease. “Did you plan--err--Is this for fucks and giggles or do you like… um, love me or somethin’?”
Jonghyun gives him a stare that’s emotionless but some how, at the same time, completely puzzled.
“Jonghyun, I--”
“--Good but stupid question,” he says.
Key’s heart does nothing short of breaking. “Never mind,” he hides his hurt with irritation, turns on his side so that his back is facing Jonghyun and winces inwardly as the broken pieces mentally slice him open.
Sleep never did come.
And much later, when Jonghyun thinks he’s deep in slumber-land, he whispers to Key. “I’ve loved you since like… Ever.”
Something poking his thigh -- he prays it isn’t what his mind assumes it is -- and going fishing in his (Jonghyun’s) pants pocket, he pulls out a pen.
He did come out here with a reason, a very valid one. He also had his time to avoid everything and let his mind relax, but he mentally declares that over. It was time -- to be calm, clearheaded -- Key was going to solve this once and for all. He was going to think this through -- rationally -- and although he doesn’t have any paper, the pen is enough (because no matter what, this needs to be written down)
Key rolls up the sleeve of his arm.
Scribbles: What did I do?
Gotten drunk, fucked my best friend, tried to lie about it and implied I didn’t like it.
Last part is a lie. He did.
A little neater handwriting: Describe downfall of current situation.
When I woke up; lied, lied, and lied.
Back to scribbles: What needs to be fixed?
Everything.
“Quit moving,” he sneers at the swing.
Anyway, neatest handwriting he can muster: How am I going to remedy this situation?
Being a bitch. Then the taking off of shirts.
Really?
Probably.
A/N: lol, i was typing the last chapter and it was long as hell. xD so i decided to break it up into 2 parts (there will be another part after this). next part is almost done actually, just need to finish it up and edit. ;D thoughts?
Pairing: Jongkey
Genre: angst covered by humor.
Rating: PG-16
Warnings: strong language. more alcohol & sexual references
Summary: Key wakes up from another "mistake" -- the best one night stand -- with his best friend.
Disclaimer: the guys belong to SM.
Length: 3/4 (1564 words) Part 4
He did a doozy. There was no other way around it; he did a doozy, will eventually pay for it dearly (God knows how), and Key desperately needs a distraction. A decent, first-class, distraction. Now.
After the horrifying shock briefly dulled his senses, Key finally spots his phone (for the first time?) laying innocently on the wooden surface of the kitchen table. It seems to be acting just like the bottles; mocking him, but it’ll soon provide means of escape so he doesn’t necessarily make a note to really care.
Key snatches the phone, plays his ringer and as the ring tone stops playing, then holds it to his ear. “Hello,” he politely fakes, and although there’s no one really on the other line, he pretends his acting skills are just that great -- even though they aren’t -- because he seriously needs this to work.
“Uh, yeah,” Key continues the conversation with himself (purposefully on the loud side, so Jonghyun can hear) , pausing to give the illusion that there’s someone speaking. A couple of genuinely fake Hum’s and Ah’s later, with a conclusive “Okay,” Key pretends to end the call.
He casually strides over to the front door (at least tries). “Taemin wants to see me really quick, I’ll be back later,” he calls down the narrow hallway, sets his hand on the doorknob. There’s a grumble that sounds mysteriously like “what, gonna fuck him too,” but Key scoffs and disregards that, steps out the door and slams it.
All for good measure.
The amount of time that passes while Key is gone is unknown, but when the door swings open and he sidles through the threshold into the dorm and gives an unenthusiastic “I’m back,” it’s early evening.
“Oh,” Jonghyun dryly welcomes, from sitting in front of the computer as Key moves to plop down on the couch. “I was wondering where you went.”
Key shoots him a glare before reaching and seizing the remote to the T.V. “Don’t be a dumb ass,” turns it on, flips the channel, “I told you--”
“--Taemin is out of town.”
Well, he sure as hell didn’t know that. “Taemin? I thought I said Onew,” panic must be kept a minimum, at all costs.
“Jinki-hyung is with him,” Jonghyun doesn’t bother to look up at he scribbles something into his notebook. “Minho flew to Japan to do a photo shoot.” Then there’s a great deal of ear-ringing silence (even if the T.V is on.)
Key thinks the tension grew a new leg. Quite possibly. A plan is required.
He gets up, shuffles into the kitchen. Opens the refrigerator door, sticks his head in (there’s cold apple juice in there and maybe a healthy dose of sanity.) Pulls the container out, grabs a couple of glasses, and fills them both halfway. The juice now has a new role -- acting as peacemaker and a nerve-stimulating substance. Better than Key himself playing that role, anyway.
A glass of apple juice in each hand, Key makes his way out of the kitchen, into the living room, towards Jonghyun (still sitting in front of the computer with that stupid-ass notebook.)
“Let’s talk,” extends one glass to Jonghyun; who takes it, slowly swivels the chair around to watch Key take his seat on the couch.
Suppressing these images he has growing in his head, Key takes one of those chance glances at Jonghyun before his gaze travels down back to the contents of his glass.
Thoughts can’t stay away for much longer, though.
“I don’t even know why I’m drinking,” Key snorts, amusement laced around his voice. “I don’t even make the age requirement.”
A kiss. “The law doesn’t control these kinda situations,” Jonghyun breathes hotly into his ear.
“Since when were you a rebel?”
“Since,” Jonghyun acts as if he’s seriously thinking. “I met this sexy devil,” and pulls away from nibbling on Key‘s earlobe, half-lidded eyes looking him up and down, “known as Kim Kibum.”
“Undressing me with your eyes?” Key purrs.
He bites his lip. “Much more than that,” Jonghyun seals that statement with a fervent kiss.
There’s an endless string of curses going through his head, but Key pushes those -- and those damning memories -- down. Except for what he wants to say. “I wanna talk about it,” but his voice is still stiff, like cardboard.
“About what,” he sets the notebook in his lap, a quarter of the apple juice gone.
Key grips his glass before recalling that diplomacy doesn’t consist of murderous looks and hostility. “You know what,” he manages to grit out.
Jonghyun hums. “Taemin?”
“No,” rubs one side of his temple when he feels the hammering return.
Silence.
Key remembers the apple juice. Drink the apple juice. “Listen,” he says, forcing himself not to roll his eyes (it‘s impossible to do that and look sincere at the same time). “It shouldn’t end like-- I wanna be friends, and I don’t wanna forget,” apple juice reinforcements are needed, “I really do care.”
The words are left to float in the air; the pause that grows taking up just about all the oxygen left in the room.
“Okay,” Jonghyun drawls, places his empty glass near the computer monitor, pen at work once more. “Did you rehearse that?” And Key tosses his own empty glass on the floor, lets out a cross between a frustrated scream and a failing car motor. His feet promptly stomp to the only door leading outside (the echo of it slamming for probably the 5th time that day.)
“Coward,” he hisses into the aftermath.
It was fortunate enough that he manages to get out of the house before he could completely derail himself from the track of Self Control. He didn’t mean to run away -- though Key doesn’t necessarily see it as running away (taking a break is what he likes to call it) -- but Jonghyun was using sarcasm, that biting sarcasm that really hurts. Key can’t recall a time where Jonghyun actually used sarcasm, he was just so blunt, but now he’s witnessed that he’s damn good at it.
Physically aware of the outside world, Key finally realizes where his feet are taking him. The playground he’d discovered earlier, and before he could think again, his hand reaches out to still a rocking swing.
From his place on the swing, he ends up becoming a spectator of a sunset. The silent growth of the night mingling with the remnants of the day; bright, yellow and orange streaks coming from the grand fireball slowly setting in the sky. The vibrant strips came in contact with the indigo moving in from the distance, in the middle where they crossed -- a deep scarlet -- crimson blood smeared smoothly across the battlefield of the other colors. Although tall buildings block the sinking sun, seemingly penetrating the sky, but Key still thought it was stunning. A pretty sight to behold indeed. Even if he wasn’t somewhere on the beach tucked under the arm of--
There will be no thinking of that. Ever again.
“Jonghyun?” Key wasn’t expecting an answer but the body next to him grunts in response. “C-can I ask you something?”
An eyelid opens. “When did you ask permissions to ask questions,” comes the sleepy mumble.
“Um…”
Jonghyun props himself on his elbows, voice turning into an amused tone. “Are you being shy?”
Key slugs a punch at the other boy’s chest. “No!” Jonghyun begins to wheeze with laughter. “Shut up, I‘m serious,” he hisses, and the annoying sounds eventually cease. “Did you plan--err--Is this for fucks and giggles or do you like… um, love me or somethin’?”
Jonghyun gives him a stare that’s emotionless but some how, at the same time, completely puzzled.
“Jonghyun, I--”
“--Good but stupid question,” he says.
Key’s heart does nothing short of breaking. “Never mind,” he hides his hurt with irritation, turns on his side so that his back is facing Jonghyun and winces inwardly as the broken pieces mentally slice him open.
Sleep never did come.
And much later, when Jonghyun thinks he’s deep in slumber-land, he whispers to Key. “I’ve loved you since like… Ever.”
Something poking his thigh -- he prays it isn’t what his mind assumes it is -- and going fishing in his (Jonghyun’s) pants pocket, he pulls out a pen.
He did come out here with a reason, a very valid one. He also had his time to avoid everything and let his mind relax, but he mentally declares that over. It was time -- to be calm, clearheaded -- Key was going to solve this once and for all. He was going to think this through -- rationally -- and although he doesn’t have any paper, the pen is enough (because no matter what, this needs to be written down)
Key rolls up the sleeve of his arm.
Scribbles: What did I do?
Gotten drunk, fucked my best friend, tried to lie about it and implied I didn’t like it.
Last part is a lie. He did.
A little neater handwriting: Describe downfall of current situation.
When I woke up; lied, lied, and lied.
Back to scribbles: What needs to be fixed?
Everything.
“Quit moving,” he sneers at the swing.
Anyway, neatest handwriting he can muster: How am I going to remedy this situation?
Being a bitch. Then the taking off of shirts.
Really?
Probably.
A/N: lol, i was typing the last chapter and it was long as hell. xD so i decided to break it up into 2 parts (there will be another part after this). next part is almost done actually, just need to finish it up and edit. ;D thoughts?