One Step Forward [shinee; jonghyun/key]
One Step Forward
jonghyun/key
pg-13, 1931 words
“You’re right, it doesn’t suit me,” Jonghyun agrees, “please Kibum, come into the car so I can reel in self-satisfied smugness at this exciting turn of events.”
(i wrote this like over a year ago for a prompt somewhere on some meme, i can't even remember what it was ): though from the story i'm guessing it probably was "jongkey with too much talking and not enough mean jabs at minho" (there will never be enough mean jabs at minho))
Kibum is sitting outside a seedy gas station, no change to spare, a dead phone weighing down his pocket, at one am in the morning. Surrounded by truck drivers looking to pack up on sustenance, and inebriated teenagers about to make terrible terrible life decisions, he feels tremendously silly in his pressed dress suit and eight to two parted hair. The smell of petroleum stings his nose and he sniffs, pulling his phone out of his pocket and staring at his own, dark, irritable expression. This is the first night in a long time that he’d managed to be dragged out of his cramped apartment, with a promise to actually look presentable, and in Minho’s very offensive and misconstrued words, ’a normal person’. If it wasn’t Minho’s wedding day it wouldn’t be above Kibum to rock up in a torn shorts and suspenders, just to watch Minho’s left eye twitch and turn towards Kibum intermittently while he was doing his vows.
Instead Kibum had sat restlessly at his table, playing with the hem of the tablecloth and forcing a strained smile throughout the whole service, scared to have his mere breath misinterpreted. Which, from the way he was seething through clenched teeth, was entirely possible. His behaviour was apparently too curt and embarrassing for his plus one, Woohyun, to stand to be around. And after several glasses of wine he’d stumbled out of the wedding with one of the bridesmaids clutching the lapel of his tuxedo. Leaving Kibum without a friend, a ride, or a reason to stay.
He’s resigned to stalking back towards the Church and just asking Minho to drop him home in the Wedding Limousine or something -- if he was going to swallow his ego he might as well get some glee out of it -- when a honk causes him to jolt and almost trip over his own feet. Driving up to the curb in front of a begrudged Kibum is the cause of most of his agitation for the night: Kim Jonghyun in a silver Mercedes.
“Do you need a ride?” Jonghyun asks, sincerely, but his true nature fails him and it rings with a confidence Kibum could never forget.
“No, not at all. Just getting some fresh air,” Kibum answers, jutting his chin up and striding forward. Jonghyun sighs and pulls up to the petrol station’s driveway, grabbing Kibum by the wrist when he attempts to sidestep him.
“Don’t be like this,” Jonghyun says, fingers pressing into Kibum’s pulse and causing him to jerk away. “Come on.”
“Don’t act like you care,” Kibum says, rubbing his hands down his pants.
“You’re right, it doesn’t suit me,” Jonghyun agrees, “please Kibum, come into the car so I can reel in self-satisfied smugness at this exciting turn of events.”
Kibum narrows his eyes, “Well, if you put it that way.” He swings his right leg up, but Jonghyun having years of special best friend experience of knowing that yes, Kibum actually would go there, leans halfway out of the car and catches his foot in the air. Kibum bobbles backwards, flailing his arms and eventually falling flat onto the greasy asphalt, his dress shoe dangling tauntingly in Jonghyun’s hands.
“Charming as always,” Kibum drawls, lifting himself off the ground and trying not to show how utterly humiliated he was. Jonghyun gets it though, and his smile is mirthful when Kibum snatches the shoe from his grasp.
“Your random fits of violence are becoming so predictable,” Jonghyun states. He taps the ledge of his window in a fast rhythm, staring anticipatingly at Kibum. “So, let me make it up to you?” Jonghyun leans back and beckons to the seat beside him.
Kibum had spent the entire night trying to avoid Jonghyun from the moment they’d made eye contact through the mirror in the men’s bathroom. He refused to let months of dancing around and reclusion become all for nothing on a night he’d been guilted to go to out of obligation. In that sense, sliding next to Jonghyun in the car would be extremely counterproductive towards everything he’d believed in since graduating University eight months ago. But maybe the late night dramas had left him with a thirst for some of drama of his own, that’s the only explanation he can think of when he shuffles into the vehicle, the heater making him realise just exactly how cold he’d been outside.
Jonghyun doesn’t say anything, just reverses out and begins driving with a barely-suppressed smile on his face.
It’s fifteen minutes of no conversation that’s filled with the low hum of the stereo, it’s a comfortable silence that makes Kibum want to lean his head into the junction of Jonghyun’s shoulder. He looks out onto the highway and is reminded of the drive home after graduation, the flavour of hopelessness stifling the back of his tongue. He’s lost in the blurry haze of the distant lights of the city and only barely hears the words wafting through the air when Jonghyun speaks.
“Sorry?” Kibum asks, turning to face him, the amity of the moment tensing as Kibum becomes sharply aware of how Jonghyun licks his lips, the way he does when he’s about to broach into a topic he knows will draw up blinders around him.
“I said,” Jonghyun clears his throat, all of his focus suddenly on the weight of his foot on the accelerator, “you look really good tonight.”
Kibum relaxes, leaning back into the leather seat. “Don’t tell Minho that please. It’ll make him think he actually holds valid opinions on things,” he says. Jonghyun scrunches his nose in distaste.
“The worst. I’ll just keep the thought to myself then.”
“That’s a good idea,” Kibum agrees. It’s a perfect opportunity to lapse back into silence, Jonghyun prevents it though as he pushes on, a smirk that has the back of Kibum’s neck prickling, and his heart hurting -- tugging at the side of his lips.
“I thought my heart stopped when I saw your eyes in the bathroom mirror,” Jonghyun says in the tone of voice that’d torture Kibum for years.
“Jonghyun, stop,” Kibum pleads, not bothering with playing along for the lead of disappointment in his chest like he’d done so many times before.
“Seriously,” Jonghyun says, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so complete post-urination.”
“Jonghyun, stop,” Kibum snaps, with a different feeling entirely.
Jonghyun laughs, so full bodied and bright that Kibum is afraid the car might swerve. “I’m kidding, partly. You look like you want to punch me, so I think you might be underestimating how much I miss you.”
“No, I think you’re just overestimating how much you do,” Kibum replies, crossing his arms and staring determinedly through the front window.
“Well, here I am, driving my best friend who doesn’t seem to care about me a bit anymore, at one thirty am. So tell me, which one of our theories seems more likely?” There’s false playfulness when Jonghyun speaks, trying to make light out of something he’d rather tackle head on. Kibum is afraid to accidentally cross a latent line.
“I still care about you...” Kibum murmurs, unfinished words brimming between his closed lips.
Jonghyun glances towards him before turning his attention back to the road, “Then what was the problem, I don’t understand? God, why did it take for Minho to get hitched for me to actually see you in person.”
“You’re lucky that happened when it did,” Kibum adds quickly, “it’s still a mystery. Back in College we were still sure that’d only happen following an apocalypse. I’m still waiting for the ground to open, to be completely honest.”
“Not that I don’t agree wholeheartedly, but Kibum,” Jonghyun says sternly. “The only reason I didn’t confront you the moment I saw you was because Taemin was insistent on this new thing called ‘tact’ or something.”
“I’ve never been this disappointed or thankful towards Taemin,” Kibum says. “But maybe he has a point. Not tact, but common sense. Maybe if you had it, there wouldn’t be a problem in the first place,” Kibum half-heartedly tries to whisper the last part quietly to himself, but he knows he wants Jonghyun to hear. To finally have it out in the open. God, those Dramas. Kibum needs to find another hobby.
Jonghyun sighs. “I’m sure that would resonate with me more if I knew what the problem even was.”
“That is the problem,” Kibum states, irritation flaring up as easily as it did back in the day. “If you had just noticed things, then nipped it in the bud, I would never have gotten so ahead of myself.”
“What do you mean?” Jonghyun asks. “Kibum, you’re my best friend. You of all people should know I don’t do subtle cues.”
“But,” Kibum struggles with his words, knowing there’s no way out of this without coming head to head with what he’s been trying for months to tame and repress. “I can’t, just. Give me another few months until I can get over myself, please.”
Jonghyun looks completely towards him, disbelief and confusion etched over the contours of his face that Kibum had found himself tracing with his eyes longer than what was permissible.
“Can you get over yourself now?” Jonghyun states incredulously. “Suck it up and tell me whatever it is so I can solve it.”
Kibum shakes his head resolutely, regretting his decision to stay in Jonghyun’s presence for longer than ten seconds. Apparently that was more than enough time for his mouth to run off without him. “You can’t solve this. Look, it’s not your fault.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better at all!” Jonghyun is only a little less than yelling at the moment, and Kibum swallows. “Kibum, you do realise I would go to the ends of the Earth if you just asked me to--”
“Jonghyun! Red light!” Kibum screeches, pushing his attention back towards the wheel.
“Shit!” Jonghyun grinds out, stomping on the brake, the car skidding to a halt and causing them both to lurch forward in their seats. “Holy shit, I--”
Kibum kisses Jonghyun full on the lips, one hand cupping his cheek, the other carefully resting on his nape. The stick pokes uncomfortably into his stomach as Kibum leans over, but he doesn’t move when Jonghyun returns to kiss with insurmountable affection, hands coming up to wrap themselves around and loosening Kibum’s perfectly parted hair. They breathe in each other, the taste of champagne springy on their tongues and Kibum moves a hand to fist on Jonghyun’s collar and bring him closer. They only move apart when an impatient honk bursts through the moment and Jonghyun hazily removes his hands from Key’s waist and grips the steering wheel again. So tight that the veins on his hands are pronounced even under the buttery lights of the street lamps moving past outside.
Both of them are struggling to control their breathing, Kibum’s mind whirring with different permutations of remorse, guilt, and utter relief. It doesn’t stop until Jonghyun inhales deeply, finally able to speak evenly.
“Please, please don’t tell me that’s what you’ve considered a problem all along,” Jonghyun says, and if he wasn’t still on a high he’d probably be irritated.
Kibum feels self-consciousness swelling up inside him, and he curls back into the side of the car and plays with his seatbelt. “I’m pretty sure you won’t be dropping me off anywhere now, will you?”
“Oh, hell no,” Jonghyun reinstates, breathless.
a/n: it's been forever since i've posted something here (and never since i've posted something new). rest assured i'm still a loser with bad priorities and no real life who likes idol groups that are super 2012.
jonghyun/key
pg-13, 1931 words
“You’re right, it doesn’t suit me,” Jonghyun agrees, “please Kibum, come into the car so I can reel in self-satisfied smugness at this exciting turn of events.”
(i wrote this like over a year ago for a prompt somewhere on some meme, i can't even remember what it was ): though from the story i'm guessing it probably was "jongkey with too much talking and not enough mean jabs at minho" (there will never be enough mean jabs at minho))
Kibum is sitting outside a seedy gas station, no change to spare, a dead phone weighing down his pocket, at one am in the morning. Surrounded by truck drivers looking to pack up on sustenance, and inebriated teenagers about to make terrible terrible life decisions, he feels tremendously silly in his pressed dress suit and eight to two parted hair. The smell of petroleum stings his nose and he sniffs, pulling his phone out of his pocket and staring at his own, dark, irritable expression. This is the first night in a long time that he’d managed to be dragged out of his cramped apartment, with a promise to actually look presentable, and in Minho’s very offensive and misconstrued words, ’a normal person’. If it wasn’t Minho’s wedding day it wouldn’t be above Kibum to rock up in a torn shorts and suspenders, just to watch Minho’s left eye twitch and turn towards Kibum intermittently while he was doing his vows.
Instead Kibum had sat restlessly at his table, playing with the hem of the tablecloth and forcing a strained smile throughout the whole service, scared to have his mere breath misinterpreted. Which, from the way he was seething through clenched teeth, was entirely possible. His behaviour was apparently too curt and embarrassing for his plus one, Woohyun, to stand to be around. And after several glasses of wine he’d stumbled out of the wedding with one of the bridesmaids clutching the lapel of his tuxedo. Leaving Kibum without a friend, a ride, or a reason to stay.
He’s resigned to stalking back towards the Church and just asking Minho to drop him home in the Wedding Limousine or something -- if he was going to swallow his ego he might as well get some glee out of it -- when a honk causes him to jolt and almost trip over his own feet. Driving up to the curb in front of a begrudged Kibum is the cause of most of his agitation for the night: Kim Jonghyun in a silver Mercedes.
“Do you need a ride?” Jonghyun asks, sincerely, but his true nature fails him and it rings with a confidence Kibum could never forget.
“No, not at all. Just getting some fresh air,” Kibum answers, jutting his chin up and striding forward. Jonghyun sighs and pulls up to the petrol station’s driveway, grabbing Kibum by the wrist when he attempts to sidestep him.
“Don’t be like this,” Jonghyun says, fingers pressing into Kibum’s pulse and causing him to jerk away. “Come on.”
“Don’t act like you care,” Kibum says, rubbing his hands down his pants.
“You’re right, it doesn’t suit me,” Jonghyun agrees, “please Kibum, come into the car so I can reel in self-satisfied smugness at this exciting turn of events.”
Kibum narrows his eyes, “Well, if you put it that way.” He swings his right leg up, but Jonghyun having years of special best friend experience of knowing that yes, Kibum actually would go there, leans halfway out of the car and catches his foot in the air. Kibum bobbles backwards, flailing his arms and eventually falling flat onto the greasy asphalt, his dress shoe dangling tauntingly in Jonghyun’s hands.
“Charming as always,” Kibum drawls, lifting himself off the ground and trying not to show how utterly humiliated he was. Jonghyun gets it though, and his smile is mirthful when Kibum snatches the shoe from his grasp.
“Your random fits of violence are becoming so predictable,” Jonghyun states. He taps the ledge of his window in a fast rhythm, staring anticipatingly at Kibum. “So, let me make it up to you?” Jonghyun leans back and beckons to the seat beside him.
Kibum had spent the entire night trying to avoid Jonghyun from the moment they’d made eye contact through the mirror in the men’s bathroom. He refused to let months of dancing around and reclusion become all for nothing on a night he’d been guilted to go to out of obligation. In that sense, sliding next to Jonghyun in the car would be extremely counterproductive towards everything he’d believed in since graduating University eight months ago. But maybe the late night dramas had left him with a thirst for some of drama of his own, that’s the only explanation he can think of when he shuffles into the vehicle, the heater making him realise just exactly how cold he’d been outside.
Jonghyun doesn’t say anything, just reverses out and begins driving with a barely-suppressed smile on his face.
It’s fifteen minutes of no conversation that’s filled with the low hum of the stereo, it’s a comfortable silence that makes Kibum want to lean his head into the junction of Jonghyun’s shoulder. He looks out onto the highway and is reminded of the drive home after graduation, the flavour of hopelessness stifling the back of his tongue. He’s lost in the blurry haze of the distant lights of the city and only barely hears the words wafting through the air when Jonghyun speaks.
“Sorry?” Kibum asks, turning to face him, the amity of the moment tensing as Kibum becomes sharply aware of how Jonghyun licks his lips, the way he does when he’s about to broach into a topic he knows will draw up blinders around him.
“I said,” Jonghyun clears his throat, all of his focus suddenly on the weight of his foot on the accelerator, “you look really good tonight.”
Kibum relaxes, leaning back into the leather seat. “Don’t tell Minho that please. It’ll make him think he actually holds valid opinions on things,” he says. Jonghyun scrunches his nose in distaste.
“The worst. I’ll just keep the thought to myself then.”
“That’s a good idea,” Kibum agrees. It’s a perfect opportunity to lapse back into silence, Jonghyun prevents it though as he pushes on, a smirk that has the back of Kibum’s neck prickling, and his heart hurting -- tugging at the side of his lips.
“I thought my heart stopped when I saw your eyes in the bathroom mirror,” Jonghyun says in the tone of voice that’d torture Kibum for years.
“Jonghyun, stop,” Kibum pleads, not bothering with playing along for the lead of disappointment in his chest like he’d done so many times before.
“Seriously,” Jonghyun says, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so complete post-urination.”
“Jonghyun, stop,” Kibum snaps, with a different feeling entirely.
Jonghyun laughs, so full bodied and bright that Kibum is afraid the car might swerve. “I’m kidding, partly. You look like you want to punch me, so I think you might be underestimating how much I miss you.”
“No, I think you’re just overestimating how much you do,” Kibum replies, crossing his arms and staring determinedly through the front window.
“Well, here I am, driving my best friend who doesn’t seem to care about me a bit anymore, at one thirty am. So tell me, which one of our theories seems more likely?” There’s false playfulness when Jonghyun speaks, trying to make light out of something he’d rather tackle head on. Kibum is afraid to accidentally cross a latent line.
“I still care about you...” Kibum murmurs, unfinished words brimming between his closed lips.
Jonghyun glances towards him before turning his attention back to the road, “Then what was the problem, I don’t understand? God, why did it take for Minho to get hitched for me to actually see you in person.”
“You’re lucky that happened when it did,” Kibum adds quickly, “it’s still a mystery. Back in College we were still sure that’d only happen following an apocalypse. I’m still waiting for the ground to open, to be completely honest.”
“Not that I don’t agree wholeheartedly, but Kibum,” Jonghyun says sternly. “The only reason I didn’t confront you the moment I saw you was because Taemin was insistent on this new thing called ‘tact’ or something.”
“I’ve never been this disappointed or thankful towards Taemin,” Kibum says. “But maybe he has a point. Not tact, but common sense. Maybe if you had it, there wouldn’t be a problem in the first place,” Kibum half-heartedly tries to whisper the last part quietly to himself, but he knows he wants Jonghyun to hear. To finally have it out in the open. God, those Dramas. Kibum needs to find another hobby.
Jonghyun sighs. “I’m sure that would resonate with me more if I knew what the problem even was.”
“That is the problem,” Kibum states, irritation flaring up as easily as it did back in the day. “If you had just noticed things, then nipped it in the bud, I would never have gotten so ahead of myself.”
“What do you mean?” Jonghyun asks. “Kibum, you’re my best friend. You of all people should know I don’t do subtle cues.”
“But,” Kibum struggles with his words, knowing there’s no way out of this without coming head to head with what he’s been trying for months to tame and repress. “I can’t, just. Give me another few months until I can get over myself, please.”
Jonghyun looks completely towards him, disbelief and confusion etched over the contours of his face that Kibum had found himself tracing with his eyes longer than what was permissible.
“Can you get over yourself now?” Jonghyun states incredulously. “Suck it up and tell me whatever it is so I can solve it.”
Kibum shakes his head resolutely, regretting his decision to stay in Jonghyun’s presence for longer than ten seconds. Apparently that was more than enough time for his mouth to run off without him. “You can’t solve this. Look, it’s not your fault.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better at all!” Jonghyun is only a little less than yelling at the moment, and Kibum swallows. “Kibum, you do realise I would go to the ends of the Earth if you just asked me to--”
“Jonghyun! Red light!” Kibum screeches, pushing his attention back towards the wheel.
“Shit!” Jonghyun grinds out, stomping on the brake, the car skidding to a halt and causing them both to lurch forward in their seats. “Holy shit, I--”
Kibum kisses Jonghyun full on the lips, one hand cupping his cheek, the other carefully resting on his nape. The stick pokes uncomfortably into his stomach as Kibum leans over, but he doesn’t move when Jonghyun returns to kiss with insurmountable affection, hands coming up to wrap themselves around and loosening Kibum’s perfectly parted hair. They breathe in each other, the taste of champagne springy on their tongues and Kibum moves a hand to fist on Jonghyun’s collar and bring him closer. They only move apart when an impatient honk bursts through the moment and Jonghyun hazily removes his hands from Key’s waist and grips the steering wheel again. So tight that the veins on his hands are pronounced even under the buttery lights of the street lamps moving past outside.
Both of them are struggling to control their breathing, Kibum’s mind whirring with different permutations of remorse, guilt, and utter relief. It doesn’t stop until Jonghyun inhales deeply, finally able to speak evenly.
“Please, please don’t tell me that’s what you’ve considered a problem all along,” Jonghyun says, and if he wasn’t still on a high he’d probably be irritated.
Kibum feels self-consciousness swelling up inside him, and he curls back into the side of the car and plays with his seatbelt. “I’m pretty sure you won’t be dropping me off anywhere now, will you?”
“Oh, hell no,” Jonghyun reinstates, breathless.
a/n: it's been forever since i've posted something here (and never since i've posted something new). rest assured i'm still a loser with bad priorities and no real life who likes idol groups that are super 2012.