Three Times Jonghyun Almost Asks Kibum to Marry Him, and the One Time He Finally Does
Title: Three Times Jonghyun Almost Asks Kibum to Marry Him, and the One Time He Finally Does
Pairing: Jongkey
Genre: Romance, humor, AU
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3000
Summary: Jonghyun is nervous, Kibum is oblivious, and Minho is always right.
When Jonghyun knocks on Minho’s door with a violently-quivering hand, eyes stretched with self-incredulity, he’s sure he’s lost his mind entirely.
Minho opens the door just enough so he can peek out, then proceeds to squint against the sunlight with a grimace, like it’s the absolute biggest chore he’s ever encountered. Normally Jonghyun would send him a ‘stop being such a priss’ sort of look, but his heart is keeping his snarky remarks occupied, reminding him of the task at hand.
“What,” Minho says groggily, and Jonghyun counts perhaps ten cowlicks protruding over the expanse of Minho’s bedhead.
“It’s ten in the morning, shouldn’t you be up and jogging?” Jonghyun weakly chuckles, attempting to clear the nervousness in his system with some mild humor. Minho opens the door further, brows meeting snugly. He apparently notices Jonghyun’s apprehension, hesitantly asking, “What’s wrong, hyung?”
“Uh,” Jonghyun falters, wide eyes set on Minho’s comically-colored pajamas. “Can I come in for a bit?”
Minho complies, probably only because Jonghyun appears so painfully edgy. They sit on Minho’s pristine sofa and the younger man mutes the television, giving Jonghyun a meaningful look from where he lounges against the armrest.
Jonghyun is beside the remaining armrest, timidly tucking his hair behind his ears or patting stray locks. Minho waits patiently for his stalling to cease, and Jonghyun eventually heaves a large sigh, his attention turning to his younger friend.
“I…I have this idea. Er…it’s not exactly, I mean…” he trails off embarrassedly.
“Please don’t tell me this relates to something sexual. I know you’re excited about new ideas in the bedroom,” Minho exhales, “but I honestly don’t give a shit about how amazing Kibum is when he-”
“No, not that!” Jonghyun flushes, ogling Minho as if he had just said the worst possible thing he could ever think up (which he probably did, all things considered). “I…shit,” Jonghyun looks to the carpeted, spotless floor, raking a hand through his now-chaotic hair.
When his burning cheeks cool down, he sighs yet again, closing his eyes. “Minho…listen.” Minho seems to sober up and realize that whatever Jonghyun is going to say is serious business, so he nods solemnly, eyes concerned.
“I think I…” Jonghyun swallows thickly, fingers quaking, one hand clenching the nearby armrest for dear life, “I think I’m gonna…I’m gonna propose to Kibum.”
Minho clearly doesn’t expect that, because his eyes widen more than usual, lips parting slightly.
Jonghyun’s breaths are shallower now, his pupils darting around with worry. The knot in his throat swells hotter and hotter, sending a sting behind his eyeballs and damn it, he doesn’t want to cry, not now.
“It’s been four years, and I…” Jonghyun shakes his head wordlessly, a broken, bitter laugh breaking through his lips as he smears a palm to his eye, head lowering, “I just…I need to be with him.”
“Hyung, you do know…” Minho pauses, apparently wanting to be careful with his word choice. “There’s gonna be a lot of conflict…”
“I’ve thought about that,” Jonghyun retorts, staring at his thighs, vision slightly blurry around the edges. “I thought we might move somewhere where this kind of thing doesn’t matter. Kibum speaks English after all, it’s not like we wouldn’t survive in America.” He supplies another heartbreaking laugh, and Minho mutely scoots closer, lengthy hand extending to smooth down the elder’s spine.
“Proposing and moving to another country, huh?” Minho sounds slightly amused. “Wild. But it sounds just like you and Kibum.”
Jonghyun does a half-chuckle, half-sob sort of deal and rubs at his eyes again with the heel of his palm.
“Hey, you’ve got my support,” Minho utters reassuringly, patting at Jonghyun’s back. “Taemin and Jinki-hyung, too. You know they’ll be so happy to hear this. I think it’s a great idea.”
Jonghyun lifts his head finally, looking up at Minho through misty eyes. “Really? It’s not stupid?”
“It’s been four years, hyung,” the younger deadpans, lips tugging up on one side. “You know Kibum is impatient. He’s probably just dying for you to ask.”
Jonghyun laughs heartily this time, leaning into Minho’s half-embrace, chuckling breathlessly into his shoulder. “Okay, Minho.”
Jonghyun has no idea in hell what he’s doing when he invites Kibum to their favorite café. He just knows that Kibum loves this place and he loves this place and they used to always go on dates here when they first met, so…that’s romantic, right?
He sure hopes so.
Currently, Jonghyun’s in a booth, the one in the back right, where he and Kibum always dine, clutching his cell phone with trembling fingers. Kibum is supposed to be here in roughly five minutes, according to the just-received text, and Jonghyun is pretty sure that his heart is crawling up his throat right about now.
The ring is in his satchel, said bag stuffed right beside him. The café is somewhat-empty, which is fortunate because he doesn’t prefer an audience…and suddenly everything is so real, everything is clicking to late and oh my God he’s actually going to propose to Kim Kibum, his boyfriend, his best friend.
Jonghyun clutches his stomach, having half a mind to scuttle to the washroom to empty his stomach, but then the bell jingles above the entrance and a too-familiar figure enters the establishment. Kibum takes off his sunglasses and flips his bangs neatly, and an army of aggressive butterflies erupts in Jonghyun’s stomach, right on cue.
Kibum’s face softens when he spots Jonghyun in the back, a smile melting onto his face. Jonghyun returns it, albeit shakily and God, he really doesn’t wanna puke on Kibum while he proposes-he really, really doesn’t.
“Hey,” says Kibum, ruffling his blonde fringe, sliding into the opposite side of the booth. A frappe is already waiting for him, and he grins thankfully, taking a large slurp.
“Hey,” Jonghyun squawks, his stomach fluttering achingly, as if he’d just done an unforgiving amount of sit-ups.
“What’s up? You almost never take me out anymore,” Kibum’s lips curve slyly around the dark green straw perched between his lips, his feline eyes narrowing playfully. “Is something special going on?”
“I…not really,” Jonghyun lies, attempting informality. He makes to casually cross one of his legs over the other, but it bumps the bottom of the tabletop and shoots a sharp pain through his entire limb.
“Motherfucker,” he curses under his breath, cradling his knee between his hands. Kibum blinks hastily, jaw dropping.
“Are you all right?” he asks worriedly, reaching under the table to rest his delicate yet masculine hands over Jonghyun’s, thumbs rubbing circles over his knuckles. Jonghyun gazes at Kibum with watery eyes, and he smiles, eyebrows creasing fondly when he finds that his boyfriend’s face is the picture of alarm.
“I’m fine, baby,” he mutters, retracting his hands to lean back against the booth. So this time didn’t go as planned. There are other opportunities, Jonghyun decides. Today, he’ll just enjoy his date with Kibum.
The second attempt is later that week, during the evening, when they’re both huddled together on the couch, Kibum’s head nestled against Jonghyun’s shoulder, hand idly running along the elder’s thigh.
“Let’s play a game,” Jonghyun says, voice wavering only somewhat.
Kibum hums lazily, obviously engrossed in the movie on the television. Jonghyun takes that as concurrence anyway and grabs the clipboard at hand, clicking the end of his pen and flipping a crossword puzzle to the back, unused side.
“Hangman,” he declares, drawing out the spaces and poorly sketching the contraption the stick man hangs from.
“Fun,” Kibum chuckles, adjusting his head and settling it so he can see the clipboard. “Blank blank,” he mouths thoughtfully when he sees what Jonghyun had written (_ _ _ _ _ _ _?, aka marry me?).
“Hm. ‘R’?” Kibum guesses.
Jonghyun gulps before unsteadily filling in the blanks. The double consonant looks so suspicious just sitting there, and fuck, Jonghyun isn’t ready. He doesn’t know if he can do this without projectile vomiting.
“Let’s see…” Kibum scrunches his eyebrows in thought, and Jonghyun can’t help but snicker affectionately and press a fleeting kiss to the younger’s right eyebrow, lips brushing his scar.
“Um, is there an…” Kibum halts when the phone begins to insistently ring. He sighs, reluctantly standing and walking over to the wall phone to take the call.
“Seriously? Can’t you get someone else to do it?” Jonghyun pretty much gets the gist of the conversation just from Kibum’s end. He watches his boyfriend rub at his forehead, eyes shutting. “Yeah, okay. Okay, that’s fine. Yeah, I’ll be there. Bye.”
He hangs up, then exhales, swiping his coat from the rack. “They need me over there, unfortunately. Ugh, I swear,” he murmurs, zoning at the sofa with annoyance. “Anyway, I have to go. I’ll be back around nine, though, ‘kay, yeobo?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to Jonghyun’s briefly and producing a noisy smack that Jonghyun can’t help but chortle at.
“Okay,” he agrees, and the door shuts quietly.
Jonghyun slouches off the couch and onto the floor, spread-eagle, relief washing over his nerves.
The third time is during a particularly cold day, it’s a Saturday and Jonghyun treats everyone to drinks at the favorite neighborhood bar. He watches as Kibum laughs with the others, face bright, but he notices the stress that undeniably lines his features.
Later, when Minho’s in the bathroom and the oldest and youngest are off somewhere doing God knows what, Jonghyun plops into the barstool next to Kibum playfully, a sleazy grin topping his lips.
Kibum raises a thick, polished brow, smirking faintly. “May I help you?” he asks, eyelashes fluttering.
“Just wondering if maybe you and me could do something tonight,” Jonghyun purrs, slanting his body toward Kibum to lap under his earlobe, palm caressing his ribs under his jacket.
Kibum giggles, and Jonghyun’s lips curl against his neck. “You’re so generous lately. I mean, you even paid for everyone,” the younger says, mistrust clear in his voice.
Jonghyun draws back to offer his boyfriend an overdone grin, teeth surfacing. “I just feel lovable lately. Is that such a crime?”
“I like it,” Kibum states considerately, reaching out to circle his index finger around one of Jonghyun’s strands.
Jonghyun’s smile reduces, going soft. “Hey, I have a question…” he starts.
“Hm?” Kibum wonders, absorbed quite certainly with Jonghyun’s hair.
“I, uh.” Jonghyun hesitates, looking at the countertop for help. “I was wondering if-”
“Kibum, you don’t have classes until tomorrow afternoon, right?” Minho suddenly appears from thin air, between the two of them, exhibiting his self-proclaimed title of ‘cockblocker’. He smiles at his older friend, and Kibum seems a little taken aback, but nods nonetheless, lowering his hand. Jonghyun misses the contact and presents Minho an envious glare.
“Then come over tonight, the other guys are invited, too. You need to get away from the wife sometimes, right?” he jokes, and Kibum laughs obnoxiously, folding his forearm over Minho’s broad shoulder, leaning into him. Jonghyun almost growls, eyes menacing slits.
“You’re right,” Kibum agrees, then turns to Jonghyun. He’s smiling harmlessly, innocence brimming in his warm chocolate eyes that can only be read as ‘Please?’. Jonghyun avoids his gaze and shrugs.
Kibum pecks his cheek. “Stubborn,” he accuses, then scampers off to join Jinki and Taemin for billiards.
Jonghyun sulks in his chair, deflated, and Minho leans in close to his ear, whispering, “No way in hell was I gonna let you propose in a fucking bar, hyung.”
Jonghyun is narrowly close to just giving up; none of his resorts are working and it seems there’s always an interruption, there’s always something that screws with his plans. Overcome with frustration, Jonghyun mopes in his old house’s basement, basically where he grew up, distracting himself with cyclical rounds of classic pinball.
The steps creak but Jonghyun doesn’t tear his gaze away from what he’s doing, too annoyed to put up with his parents at the moment. He flicks the triggers and saves another pinball from its death, successfully shooting it into a slot and causing the machine to light up with various colors.
“Jjong?”
Jonghyun pauses. The ball falls through the opening and he loses.
“Kibum?” he questions, turning to said boy and frowning. “What’re you doing here?”
“I just had a feeling you’d be here,” he says, smiling coyly. “Your mom let me in. She says she’s worried about you.”
“Yeah, well,” Jonghyun folds his arms childishly, glaring at the floor.
“Circles,” Kibum murmurs, and Jonghyun meets the younger’s eyes, cocking a brow. Kibum steps forward, cupping his boyfriend’s face in his hands, scrutinizing him. “Circles,” he repeats, tracing a crescent beneath Jonghyun’s left eye. “Haven’t you been sleeping?”
“I’m fine,” Jonghyun sighs, massaging his forehead with his thumb, pointer, and middle.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Kibum retorts, eyes troubled. Jonghyun locks their gazes. “Seriously, I’m worried about you, Jonghyun. Are you okay?”
It’s sort of like a movie, like the realization finally hits Jonghyun and nothing really matters apart from Kibum’s eyes, his lips, his nose, him.
“I’m fine,” Jonghyun says again, searching the other boy’s eyes. Kibum still looks skeptical, so he smiles comfortingly, gently prying the blonde’s hands from his cheeks.
“This place sure does bring back memories, huh?” he says randomly, examining the room. Kibum mirrors the action, and Jonghyun’s heart stutters when a smile dissolves onto Kibum’s pretty lips.
“This is where we met,” he says softly. Jonghyun looks at him, and Kibum appears uncharacteristically shy, toeing at the carpet.
“It is,” Jonghyun finally concurs. He cagily eyes his satchel, his chest constricting a little. “…Hey.”
Kibum lifts his head. “Yeah?”
“I’m a decent guy, right? Don’t abuse you, don’t make you watch scary movies alone, always remind you I love you?”
Kibum laughs, though his eyebrows are furrowed, smile odd. “Yeah?” he agrees, the word sounding like a question, bemused.
“And you won’t get tired of me, right?” Jonghyun inquires, casually sauntering toward his shoulder bag that is loafing in the center of a bean bag chair, tempting him shamelessly. “Even if we get in a bunch of fights and threaten to kill each other?” his voice dies off a little as he reaches into his carrier, back to Kibum.
“Yeah?” Kibum repeats, though this time he almost sounds scared, like he knows Jonghyun’s up to something. The elder swallows audibly.
“Yeah. That’s cool, then.” He spins around, hands behind his back as he strolls forward, steps gradual and measured. Kibum looks unsure, smile gone, eyebrows wrinkled.
“Jjong, what’s this all abo-”
“Kim Kibum,” Jonghyun cuts him off, and Kibum’s mouth jerks firmly shut. “If there’s one person in this world I love more than anything or anyone else, it’s you, hands down. I just…” he fades out, becoming insecure all over again. Just do it, he tells himself. Fucking do it, coward.
He clumsily drops to a knee, unveiling the tiny black box. Kibum’s eyes widen quite humorously, almost to an extent that doesn’t seem humanly possible. His breath hitches perceptibly and suddenly his labored breathing is so agonizingly obvious, which does nothing to aid Jonghyun’s confidence.
“I…well,” Jonghyun laughs weakly, free hand scratching his nape. “I was gonna do something really romantic and propose creatively, but things just kept getting in the way…” There’s no going back now, he muses. “And you probably think this is really, really stupid and that I’m a total dumbass and should just get out of your life, but…I can’t. I just can’t do that. I can’t live without you, Kibum,” he cringes at how cheesy it sounds when it leaves his mouth.
“Anyway…this speech isn’t exactly how I pictured it,” he grumbles, and when Kibum quietly giggles, he smiles widely, assurance increasing a little.
“Will you marry me?” he asks, cute, elfin smile on his face, his head cocking curiously. He can’t believe he’s even saying those words, much less to Kibum, the object of his affection since childhood.
Kibum, to his surprise, squats down so they’re both at eye level, his arms hanging loosely over his knees. He’s smirking, probably totally aware of Jonghyun’s mortification, but the latter spies tears in the younger’s orbs, and that alone makes him press his lips together to mask a grin.
“I suppose I could,” Kibum ponders, “but what’s in it for me?”
Jonghyun thinks. “I’ll do the laundry four times a week?”
“Five.”
“Deal.”
“Then yes,” Kibum nods, beaming boldly. Jonghyun apes the expression.
“What did I just agree to,” Kibum mutters sorrowfully right after, burying his face in his hands in faux-regret. Jonghyun lunges forward and tackles Kibum to the carpet, nails digging into his sides and Kibum wheezes, tears gathering as he laughs hysterically.
He pleads for the elder to stop, voiceless, his long fingers coiling around Jonghyun’s wrists and tearing them away. Jonghyun lets him, only because Kibum is flushed, drunk off laughter. He’s still giddy even though he’s not being tickled any longer, and Jonghyun finds him sort of perfect.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says honestly, bending his spine to allow his lips to land on Kibum’s. Kibum sighs through his nose blissfully, his hands immediately descending Jonghyun’s back, fingertips walking teasingly over the skin between his shirt and waistband.
Jonghyun pulls back to tilt his head, nose bumping with Kibum’s in the process, then reconnects their lips, soft yet desperate, tears pooling behind his closed lids.
The younger’s tongue pokes the corner of his mouth and he smiles at his boyfriend’s (scratch that, fiancé’s) silliness, dividing his smiling lips to suck Kibum’s tongue into his mouth, extracting a deep, rich moan from the other boy. Kibum’s sock-clad foot rubs at the back of Jonghyun’s calf, and the latter pulls up, laughing breathlessly at the string of saliva that still bonds their lips.
“Yes,” Kibum says properly, a tear sneaking from the corner of his eye, dripping to the floor. Jonghyun kisses his now-damp temple, humming delightedly.
“I love you,” he murmurs. “So much. You don’t even realize.”
“Oh, I do,” Kibum chuckles charmingly. “And I love you, too. But, really, it’s been four years, Jonghyun. I was dying for you to ask me.”
Jonghyun’s façade dulls, because, as much as he doesn’t like it, Minho is always right.
But when Kibum roughly yanks him down for another fanatical kiss, tongues, teeth, and all, Jonghyun vaguely thinks that maybe that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
----------------
A/N: yep, making jongkey get married again because I HAVE A PROBLEM. OTL
Pairing: Jongkey
Genre: Romance, humor, AU
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3000
Summary: Jonghyun is nervous, Kibum is oblivious, and Minho is always right.
When Jonghyun knocks on Minho’s door with a violently-quivering hand, eyes stretched with self-incredulity, he’s sure he’s lost his mind entirely.
Minho opens the door just enough so he can peek out, then proceeds to squint against the sunlight with a grimace, like it’s the absolute biggest chore he’s ever encountered. Normally Jonghyun would send him a ‘stop being such a priss’ sort of look, but his heart is keeping his snarky remarks occupied, reminding him of the task at hand.
“What,” Minho says groggily, and Jonghyun counts perhaps ten cowlicks protruding over the expanse of Minho’s bedhead.
“It’s ten in the morning, shouldn’t you be up and jogging?” Jonghyun weakly chuckles, attempting to clear the nervousness in his system with some mild humor. Minho opens the door further, brows meeting snugly. He apparently notices Jonghyun’s apprehension, hesitantly asking, “What’s wrong, hyung?”
“Uh,” Jonghyun falters, wide eyes set on Minho’s comically-colored pajamas. “Can I come in for a bit?”
Minho complies, probably only because Jonghyun appears so painfully edgy. They sit on Minho’s pristine sofa and the younger man mutes the television, giving Jonghyun a meaningful look from where he lounges against the armrest.
Jonghyun is beside the remaining armrest, timidly tucking his hair behind his ears or patting stray locks. Minho waits patiently for his stalling to cease, and Jonghyun eventually heaves a large sigh, his attention turning to his younger friend.
“I…I have this idea. Er…it’s not exactly, I mean…” he trails off embarrassedly.
“Please don’t tell me this relates to something sexual. I know you’re excited about new ideas in the bedroom,” Minho exhales, “but I honestly don’t give a shit about how amazing Kibum is when he-”
“No, not that!” Jonghyun flushes, ogling Minho as if he had just said the worst possible thing he could ever think up (which he probably did, all things considered). “I…shit,” Jonghyun looks to the carpeted, spotless floor, raking a hand through his now-chaotic hair.
When his burning cheeks cool down, he sighs yet again, closing his eyes. “Minho…listen.” Minho seems to sober up and realize that whatever Jonghyun is going to say is serious business, so he nods solemnly, eyes concerned.
“I think I…” Jonghyun swallows thickly, fingers quaking, one hand clenching the nearby armrest for dear life, “I think I’m gonna…I’m gonna propose to Kibum.”
Minho clearly doesn’t expect that, because his eyes widen more than usual, lips parting slightly.
Jonghyun’s breaths are shallower now, his pupils darting around with worry. The knot in his throat swells hotter and hotter, sending a sting behind his eyeballs and damn it, he doesn’t want to cry, not now.
“It’s been four years, and I…” Jonghyun shakes his head wordlessly, a broken, bitter laugh breaking through his lips as he smears a palm to his eye, head lowering, “I just…I need to be with him.”
“Hyung, you do know…” Minho pauses, apparently wanting to be careful with his word choice. “There’s gonna be a lot of conflict…”
“I’ve thought about that,” Jonghyun retorts, staring at his thighs, vision slightly blurry around the edges. “I thought we might move somewhere where this kind of thing doesn’t matter. Kibum speaks English after all, it’s not like we wouldn’t survive in America.” He supplies another heartbreaking laugh, and Minho mutely scoots closer, lengthy hand extending to smooth down the elder’s spine.
“Proposing and moving to another country, huh?” Minho sounds slightly amused. “Wild. But it sounds just like you and Kibum.”
Jonghyun does a half-chuckle, half-sob sort of deal and rubs at his eyes again with the heel of his palm.
“Hey, you’ve got my support,” Minho utters reassuringly, patting at Jonghyun’s back. “Taemin and Jinki-hyung, too. You know they’ll be so happy to hear this. I think it’s a great idea.”
Jonghyun lifts his head finally, looking up at Minho through misty eyes. “Really? It’s not stupid?”
“It’s been four years, hyung,” the younger deadpans, lips tugging up on one side. “You know Kibum is impatient. He’s probably just dying for you to ask.”
Jonghyun laughs heartily this time, leaning into Minho’s half-embrace, chuckling breathlessly into his shoulder. “Okay, Minho.”
Jonghyun has no idea in hell what he’s doing when he invites Kibum to their favorite café. He just knows that Kibum loves this place and he loves this place and they used to always go on dates here when they first met, so…that’s romantic, right?
He sure hopes so.
Currently, Jonghyun’s in a booth, the one in the back right, where he and Kibum always dine, clutching his cell phone with trembling fingers. Kibum is supposed to be here in roughly five minutes, according to the just-received text, and Jonghyun is pretty sure that his heart is crawling up his throat right about now.
The ring is in his satchel, said bag stuffed right beside him. The café is somewhat-empty, which is fortunate because he doesn’t prefer an audience…and suddenly everything is so real, everything is clicking to late and oh my God he’s actually going to propose to Kim Kibum, his boyfriend, his best friend.
Jonghyun clutches his stomach, having half a mind to scuttle to the washroom to empty his stomach, but then the bell jingles above the entrance and a too-familiar figure enters the establishment. Kibum takes off his sunglasses and flips his bangs neatly, and an army of aggressive butterflies erupts in Jonghyun’s stomach, right on cue.
Kibum’s face softens when he spots Jonghyun in the back, a smile melting onto his face. Jonghyun returns it, albeit shakily and God, he really doesn’t wanna puke on Kibum while he proposes-he really, really doesn’t.
“Hey,” says Kibum, ruffling his blonde fringe, sliding into the opposite side of the booth. A frappe is already waiting for him, and he grins thankfully, taking a large slurp.
“Hey,” Jonghyun squawks, his stomach fluttering achingly, as if he’d just done an unforgiving amount of sit-ups.
“What’s up? You almost never take me out anymore,” Kibum’s lips curve slyly around the dark green straw perched between his lips, his feline eyes narrowing playfully. “Is something special going on?”
“I…not really,” Jonghyun lies, attempting informality. He makes to casually cross one of his legs over the other, but it bumps the bottom of the tabletop and shoots a sharp pain through his entire limb.
“Motherfucker,” he curses under his breath, cradling his knee between his hands. Kibum blinks hastily, jaw dropping.
“Are you all right?” he asks worriedly, reaching under the table to rest his delicate yet masculine hands over Jonghyun’s, thumbs rubbing circles over his knuckles. Jonghyun gazes at Kibum with watery eyes, and he smiles, eyebrows creasing fondly when he finds that his boyfriend’s face is the picture of alarm.
“I’m fine, baby,” he mutters, retracting his hands to lean back against the booth. So this time didn’t go as planned. There are other opportunities, Jonghyun decides. Today, he’ll just enjoy his date with Kibum.
The second attempt is later that week, during the evening, when they’re both huddled together on the couch, Kibum’s head nestled against Jonghyun’s shoulder, hand idly running along the elder’s thigh.
“Let’s play a game,” Jonghyun says, voice wavering only somewhat.
Kibum hums lazily, obviously engrossed in the movie on the television. Jonghyun takes that as concurrence anyway and grabs the clipboard at hand, clicking the end of his pen and flipping a crossword puzzle to the back, unused side.
“Hangman,” he declares, drawing out the spaces and poorly sketching the contraption the stick man hangs from.
“Fun,” Kibum chuckles, adjusting his head and settling it so he can see the clipboard. “Blank blank,” he mouths thoughtfully when he sees what Jonghyun had written (_ _ _ _ _ _ _?, aka marry me?).
“Hm. ‘R’?” Kibum guesses.
Jonghyun gulps before unsteadily filling in the blanks. The double consonant looks so suspicious just sitting there, and fuck, Jonghyun isn’t ready. He doesn’t know if he can do this without projectile vomiting.
“Let’s see…” Kibum scrunches his eyebrows in thought, and Jonghyun can’t help but snicker affectionately and press a fleeting kiss to the younger’s right eyebrow, lips brushing his scar.
“Um, is there an…” Kibum halts when the phone begins to insistently ring. He sighs, reluctantly standing and walking over to the wall phone to take the call.
“Seriously? Can’t you get someone else to do it?” Jonghyun pretty much gets the gist of the conversation just from Kibum’s end. He watches his boyfriend rub at his forehead, eyes shutting. “Yeah, okay. Okay, that’s fine. Yeah, I’ll be there. Bye.”
He hangs up, then exhales, swiping his coat from the rack. “They need me over there, unfortunately. Ugh, I swear,” he murmurs, zoning at the sofa with annoyance. “Anyway, I have to go. I’ll be back around nine, though, ‘kay, yeobo?” He leans forward, pressing his lips to Jonghyun’s briefly and producing a noisy smack that Jonghyun can’t help but chortle at.
“Okay,” he agrees, and the door shuts quietly.
Jonghyun slouches off the couch and onto the floor, spread-eagle, relief washing over his nerves.
The third time is during a particularly cold day, it’s a Saturday and Jonghyun treats everyone to drinks at the favorite neighborhood bar. He watches as Kibum laughs with the others, face bright, but he notices the stress that undeniably lines his features.
Later, when Minho’s in the bathroom and the oldest and youngest are off somewhere doing God knows what, Jonghyun plops into the barstool next to Kibum playfully, a sleazy grin topping his lips.
Kibum raises a thick, polished brow, smirking faintly. “May I help you?” he asks, eyelashes fluttering.
“Just wondering if maybe you and me could do something tonight,” Jonghyun purrs, slanting his body toward Kibum to lap under his earlobe, palm caressing his ribs under his jacket.
Kibum giggles, and Jonghyun’s lips curl against his neck. “You’re so generous lately. I mean, you even paid for everyone,” the younger says, mistrust clear in his voice.
Jonghyun draws back to offer his boyfriend an overdone grin, teeth surfacing. “I just feel lovable lately. Is that such a crime?”
“I like it,” Kibum states considerately, reaching out to circle his index finger around one of Jonghyun’s strands.
Jonghyun’s smile reduces, going soft. “Hey, I have a question…” he starts.
“Hm?” Kibum wonders, absorbed quite certainly with Jonghyun’s hair.
“I, uh.” Jonghyun hesitates, looking at the countertop for help. “I was wondering if-”
“Kibum, you don’t have classes until tomorrow afternoon, right?” Minho suddenly appears from thin air, between the two of them, exhibiting his self-proclaimed title of ‘cockblocker’. He smiles at his older friend, and Kibum seems a little taken aback, but nods nonetheless, lowering his hand. Jonghyun misses the contact and presents Minho an envious glare.
“Then come over tonight, the other guys are invited, too. You need to get away from the wife sometimes, right?” he jokes, and Kibum laughs obnoxiously, folding his forearm over Minho’s broad shoulder, leaning into him. Jonghyun almost growls, eyes menacing slits.
“You’re right,” Kibum agrees, then turns to Jonghyun. He’s smiling harmlessly, innocence brimming in his warm chocolate eyes that can only be read as ‘Please?’. Jonghyun avoids his gaze and shrugs.
Kibum pecks his cheek. “Stubborn,” he accuses, then scampers off to join Jinki and Taemin for billiards.
Jonghyun sulks in his chair, deflated, and Minho leans in close to his ear, whispering, “No way in hell was I gonna let you propose in a fucking bar, hyung.”
Jonghyun is narrowly close to just giving up; none of his resorts are working and it seems there’s always an interruption, there’s always something that screws with his plans. Overcome with frustration, Jonghyun mopes in his old house’s basement, basically where he grew up, distracting himself with cyclical rounds of classic pinball.
The steps creak but Jonghyun doesn’t tear his gaze away from what he’s doing, too annoyed to put up with his parents at the moment. He flicks the triggers and saves another pinball from its death, successfully shooting it into a slot and causing the machine to light up with various colors.
“Jjong?”
Jonghyun pauses. The ball falls through the opening and he loses.
“Kibum?” he questions, turning to said boy and frowning. “What’re you doing here?”
“I just had a feeling you’d be here,” he says, smiling coyly. “Your mom let me in. She says she’s worried about you.”
“Yeah, well,” Jonghyun folds his arms childishly, glaring at the floor.
“Circles,” Kibum murmurs, and Jonghyun meets the younger’s eyes, cocking a brow. Kibum steps forward, cupping his boyfriend’s face in his hands, scrutinizing him. “Circles,” he repeats, tracing a crescent beneath Jonghyun’s left eye. “Haven’t you been sleeping?”
“I’m fine,” Jonghyun sighs, massaging his forehead with his thumb, pointer, and middle.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Kibum retorts, eyes troubled. Jonghyun locks their gazes. “Seriously, I’m worried about you, Jonghyun. Are you okay?”
It’s sort of like a movie, like the realization finally hits Jonghyun and nothing really matters apart from Kibum’s eyes, his lips, his nose, him.
“I’m fine,” Jonghyun says again, searching the other boy’s eyes. Kibum still looks skeptical, so he smiles comfortingly, gently prying the blonde’s hands from his cheeks.
“This place sure does bring back memories, huh?” he says randomly, examining the room. Kibum mirrors the action, and Jonghyun’s heart stutters when a smile dissolves onto Kibum’s pretty lips.
“This is where we met,” he says softly. Jonghyun looks at him, and Kibum appears uncharacteristically shy, toeing at the carpet.
“It is,” Jonghyun finally concurs. He cagily eyes his satchel, his chest constricting a little. “…Hey.”
Kibum lifts his head. “Yeah?”
“I’m a decent guy, right? Don’t abuse you, don’t make you watch scary movies alone, always remind you I love you?”
Kibum laughs, though his eyebrows are furrowed, smile odd. “Yeah?” he agrees, the word sounding like a question, bemused.
“And you won’t get tired of me, right?” Jonghyun inquires, casually sauntering toward his shoulder bag that is loafing in the center of a bean bag chair, tempting him shamelessly. “Even if we get in a bunch of fights and threaten to kill each other?” his voice dies off a little as he reaches into his carrier, back to Kibum.
“Yeah?” Kibum repeats, though this time he almost sounds scared, like he knows Jonghyun’s up to something. The elder swallows audibly.
“Yeah. That’s cool, then.” He spins around, hands behind his back as he strolls forward, steps gradual and measured. Kibum looks unsure, smile gone, eyebrows wrinkled.
“Jjong, what’s this all abo-”
“Kim Kibum,” Jonghyun cuts him off, and Kibum’s mouth jerks firmly shut. “If there’s one person in this world I love more than anything or anyone else, it’s you, hands down. I just…” he fades out, becoming insecure all over again. Just do it, he tells himself. Fucking do it, coward.
He clumsily drops to a knee, unveiling the tiny black box. Kibum’s eyes widen quite humorously, almost to an extent that doesn’t seem humanly possible. His breath hitches perceptibly and suddenly his labored breathing is so agonizingly obvious, which does nothing to aid Jonghyun’s confidence.
“I…well,” Jonghyun laughs weakly, free hand scratching his nape. “I was gonna do something really romantic and propose creatively, but things just kept getting in the way…” There’s no going back now, he muses. “And you probably think this is really, really stupid and that I’m a total dumbass and should just get out of your life, but…I can’t. I just can’t do that. I can’t live without you, Kibum,” he cringes at how cheesy it sounds when it leaves his mouth.
“Anyway…this speech isn’t exactly how I pictured it,” he grumbles, and when Kibum quietly giggles, he smiles widely, assurance increasing a little.
“Will you marry me?” he asks, cute, elfin smile on his face, his head cocking curiously. He can’t believe he’s even saying those words, much less to Kibum, the object of his affection since childhood.
Kibum, to his surprise, squats down so they’re both at eye level, his arms hanging loosely over his knees. He’s smirking, probably totally aware of Jonghyun’s mortification, but the latter spies tears in the younger’s orbs, and that alone makes him press his lips together to mask a grin.
“I suppose I could,” Kibum ponders, “but what’s in it for me?”
Jonghyun thinks. “I’ll do the laundry four times a week?”
“Five.”
“Deal.”
“Then yes,” Kibum nods, beaming boldly. Jonghyun apes the expression.
“What did I just agree to,” Kibum mutters sorrowfully right after, burying his face in his hands in faux-regret. Jonghyun lunges forward and tackles Kibum to the carpet, nails digging into his sides and Kibum wheezes, tears gathering as he laughs hysterically.
He pleads for the elder to stop, voiceless, his long fingers coiling around Jonghyun’s wrists and tearing them away. Jonghyun lets him, only because Kibum is flushed, drunk off laughter. He’s still giddy even though he’s not being tickled any longer, and Jonghyun finds him sort of perfect.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says honestly, bending his spine to allow his lips to land on Kibum’s. Kibum sighs through his nose blissfully, his hands immediately descending Jonghyun’s back, fingertips walking teasingly over the skin between his shirt and waistband.
Jonghyun pulls back to tilt his head, nose bumping with Kibum’s in the process, then reconnects their lips, soft yet desperate, tears pooling behind his closed lids.
The younger’s tongue pokes the corner of his mouth and he smiles at his boyfriend’s (scratch that, fiancé’s) silliness, dividing his smiling lips to suck Kibum’s tongue into his mouth, extracting a deep, rich moan from the other boy. Kibum’s sock-clad foot rubs at the back of Jonghyun’s calf, and the latter pulls up, laughing breathlessly at the string of saliva that still bonds their lips.
“Yes,” Kibum says properly, a tear sneaking from the corner of his eye, dripping to the floor. Jonghyun kisses his now-damp temple, humming delightedly.
“I love you,” he murmurs. “So much. You don’t even realize.”
“Oh, I do,” Kibum chuckles charmingly. “And I love you, too. But, really, it’s been four years, Jonghyun. I was dying for you to ask me.”
Jonghyun’s façade dulls, because, as much as he doesn’t like it, Minho is always right.
But when Kibum roughly yanks him down for another fanatical kiss, tongues, teeth, and all, Jonghyun vaguely thinks that maybe that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
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A/N: yep, making jongkey get married again because I HAVE A PROBLEM. OTL