Always Right Behind You; Taemin/Key
Title: Always Right Behind You
Pairing: Kibum/Taemin; slight Kibum/Irang
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,130 words
Summary: When Kibum misplaces his feelings, Taemin's world shatters around him.
Prompt: #3; Taemin/Key; Something about key thinking he likes irang because he's fascinated by how non-glamorous she is, but turns out she will never like him and he goes to taemin to heal his butthurt. then he realizes he's liked taemin all along, and forgets about getting rejected. (Supplementary prompt)
Kibum wasn’t the sort to develop crushes easily. Usually he was the one being preyed upon, but she was different from the other girls he normally fell for.
Irang was somewhat more laid back, less glamorous than the normal celebrities that he associated with. She had a very natural charm and a different kind of beauty that was all of her own.
Of course Kibum would never allude to the fact that he wasn’t into the high style fashionista’s that he occasionally picked out on reality shows.
When he went to film with Irang once again, it was comfortable. It was easy to converse with her about everything and anything, easy to stroll beside her. He felt that suddenly in the chaotic mess that he found himself apart of, a little something he called the entertainment industry, that she was the break. She made the chaos seem a little less terrifying, overwhelming and stressful.
When Kibum, composed as usual, asked for her number between broadcasts’, he was proud of himself. His hand clenched tightly around the seven digits she had scrawled down in her less than elegant handwriting. The walk back to the dressing room is far more exhilarating, if the pep in his step was any indignation.
He and Irang would converse occasionally, always through text. Kibum took what he could get. She was sweet, far sweeter than first imagined and Kibum, if at all possible, thought that he liked her even more.
His heart flopped a little in the cavity of his chest as the vibration in his pocket goes off, the suspense of it being her enough to cause his heart rate to accelerate.
--
When Kibum finally gained the gall to ask her out on a date, a proper one; he was shot down. Not to be deterred though, he planned to ask again.
It suddenly became apparent, after Irang kept shooting him down, that perhaps his feelings for her weren’t mutual.
However, it wasn’t until Irang told him that she just didn’t see him like that with a grace that only she could possess ( the kind that made his heart ache in more ways than one) that he confirmed his suspicions to be reality.
--
Taemin was the only one to notice that anything was aloof. Although maybe it wasn’t that he was observant, but more of a “he was only good at noticing things that pertained to Kibum.”
He wasn’t stupid. He had seen the way Kibum had acted around Irang. For some reason, it had pissed him off. He masked it with extra dance hours and more powerful moves, misplaced anger that benefited the fans and his career.
He had always been there for his hyung, but Kibum hardly noticed him as anything more than a pest, a bother, someone else to look out for, a colleague.
Taemin, as angry as he had been with Kibum over not noticing all the little things, he still helped Kibum clean up, still helped him with his dance steps, still offered a shoulder as a pillow, still listened to everything and anything. He was always there, like a constant in the life that whirlwinds around them. As mad as he was, he cared that much more. That’s why he was standing outside Kibum’s door and listening for any sounds of anger, or possibly tears. That was what he told himself, anyways.
In reality he just wanted to be the one to pick up the pieces again, even if it meant to have his own heart shatter a little more, piece by piece. He wasn’t if sure his own heart could take much more of this.
Kibum told him to come in after Taemin rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. He settled down beside him on the couch.
“This is why I don’t fall for people, because it is much easier to be the one rejecting than to be the one rejected.” Taemin snorted, rolling his eyes. It was a very Kibum-like answer.
“Well, now you know how it feels.” Kibum’s eyes caught his, dark celestial pools that mirrored Taemin’s anguished face.
“Taemin?” Kibum questioned his hair falling into his eyes. Taemin’s lips pressed awkwardly against Kibum’s statuesque ones a moment later.
“Pabo,” he whispered against his lips, and like that he was gone, a blur of color and motion, there one second and gone the next.
--
Kibum was baffled, but when he stopped pretending not to care about those around him, ignored Onew’s guffaws, Jonghyun’s ridiculous behavior and Minho’s incapability to be mean or not put his all into things, he started to notice Taemin.
He noticed the way Taemin lit up when Kibum complimented him, that spark in his eyes that made Kibum’s insides roll around in undulating waves. He noticed the way Taemin’s fingers, warm and inviting, lingered a little longer than anyone else’s when they held hands on stage. Taemin was there hovering right beside him, a little behind him, always a shadow, constantly checking.
He was the one who brought him tissues at 3 a.m., or pulled his hair back when he vomited the soju that Onew made him drink, rubbing his hand over his back in calm, soothing circles. Come to think of it, he was the one who ran to the convenience store at midnight for cough syrup. The one who curled up beside him in bed, arms wide, warm and inviting.
Kibum remembered Taemin supporting his weight as they stumbled home while he drunk off his ass and Taemin dealing with the overpowering stench of alcohol and a drunk Kibum. Something deep down lit up, heat rushing throughout his body, coloring his cheeks with a dusting of rose.
Taemin watched him curiously as Kibum followed him backstage.
“Taemin, I .... kiss me again,” he demanded, awkwardly. Taemin blinked, eyes wide before leaning and pressing his lips against his.
“As you wish,” he whispered. Kibum growled and pressed back, lips molding perfectly against Taemin’s.
Somewhere deep down, Kibum thought that Taemin might have always been the object of his affection. That maybe he was projecting his feelings for Taemin onto Irang so he didn’t have to confront the fact that he wasn’t just in love with a boy, but a boy he lived and worked with. His rule of never mixing pleasure and business was shot to hell.
Taemin kissed him again, and the sparks that shot down Kibum’s spine were electrifying, to say the least.
He whined, slapped Taemin’s shoulder and playfully asked, “where have you been all my life?”
Taemin laughed and slid out of bed. He threw on a shirt and cocked a grin as he answered that he had been right here all along.
Pairing: Kibum/Taemin; slight Kibum/Irang
Rating: PG
Word count: 1,130 words
Summary: When Kibum misplaces his feelings, Taemin's world shatters around him.
Prompt: #3; Taemin/Key; Something about key thinking he likes irang because he's fascinated by how non-glamorous she is, but turns out she will never like him and he goes to taemin to heal his butthurt. then he realizes he's liked taemin all along, and forgets about getting rejected. (Supplementary prompt)
Kibum wasn’t the sort to develop crushes easily. Usually he was the one being preyed upon, but she was different from the other girls he normally fell for.
Irang was somewhat more laid back, less glamorous than the normal celebrities that he associated with. She had a very natural charm and a different kind of beauty that was all of her own.
Of course Kibum would never allude to the fact that he wasn’t into the high style fashionista’s that he occasionally picked out on reality shows.
When he went to film with Irang once again, it was comfortable. It was easy to converse with her about everything and anything, easy to stroll beside her. He felt that suddenly in the chaotic mess that he found himself apart of, a little something he called the entertainment industry, that she was the break. She made the chaos seem a little less terrifying, overwhelming and stressful.
When Kibum, composed as usual, asked for her number between broadcasts’, he was proud of himself. His hand clenched tightly around the seven digits she had scrawled down in her less than elegant handwriting. The walk back to the dressing room is far more exhilarating, if the pep in his step was any indignation.
He and Irang would converse occasionally, always through text. Kibum took what he could get. She was sweet, far sweeter than first imagined and Kibum, if at all possible, thought that he liked her even more.
His heart flopped a little in the cavity of his chest as the vibration in his pocket goes off, the suspense of it being her enough to cause his heart rate to accelerate.
--
When Kibum finally gained the gall to ask her out on a date, a proper one; he was shot down. Not to be deterred though, he planned to ask again.
It suddenly became apparent, after Irang kept shooting him down, that perhaps his feelings for her weren’t mutual.
However, it wasn’t until Irang told him that she just didn’t see him like that with a grace that only she could possess ( the kind that made his heart ache in more ways than one) that he confirmed his suspicions to be reality.
--
Taemin was the only one to notice that anything was aloof. Although maybe it wasn’t that he was observant, but more of a “he was only good at noticing things that pertained to Kibum.”
He wasn’t stupid. He had seen the way Kibum had acted around Irang. For some reason, it had pissed him off. He masked it with extra dance hours and more powerful moves, misplaced anger that benefited the fans and his career.
He had always been there for his hyung, but Kibum hardly noticed him as anything more than a pest, a bother, someone else to look out for, a colleague.
Taemin, as angry as he had been with Kibum over not noticing all the little things, he still helped Kibum clean up, still helped him with his dance steps, still offered a shoulder as a pillow, still listened to everything and anything. He was always there, like a constant in the life that whirlwinds around them. As mad as he was, he cared that much more. That’s why he was standing outside Kibum’s door and listening for any sounds of anger, or possibly tears. That was what he told himself, anyways.
In reality he just wanted to be the one to pick up the pieces again, even if it meant to have his own heart shatter a little more, piece by piece. He wasn’t if sure his own heart could take much more of this.
Kibum told him to come in after Taemin rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. He settled down beside him on the couch.
“This is why I don’t fall for people, because it is much easier to be the one rejecting than to be the one rejected.” Taemin snorted, rolling his eyes. It was a very Kibum-like answer.
“Well, now you know how it feels.” Kibum’s eyes caught his, dark celestial pools that mirrored Taemin’s anguished face.
“Taemin?” Kibum questioned his hair falling into his eyes. Taemin’s lips pressed awkwardly against Kibum’s statuesque ones a moment later.
“Pabo,” he whispered against his lips, and like that he was gone, a blur of color and motion, there one second and gone the next.
--
Kibum was baffled, but when he stopped pretending not to care about those around him, ignored Onew’s guffaws, Jonghyun’s ridiculous behavior and Minho’s incapability to be mean or not put his all into things, he started to notice Taemin.
He noticed the way Taemin lit up when Kibum complimented him, that spark in his eyes that made Kibum’s insides roll around in undulating waves. He noticed the way Taemin’s fingers, warm and inviting, lingered a little longer than anyone else’s when they held hands on stage. Taemin was there hovering right beside him, a little behind him, always a shadow, constantly checking.
He was the one who brought him tissues at 3 a.m., or pulled his hair back when he vomited the soju that Onew made him drink, rubbing his hand over his back in calm, soothing circles. Come to think of it, he was the one who ran to the convenience store at midnight for cough syrup. The one who curled up beside him in bed, arms wide, warm and inviting.
Kibum remembered Taemin supporting his weight as they stumbled home while he drunk off his ass and Taemin dealing with the overpowering stench of alcohol and a drunk Kibum. Something deep down lit up, heat rushing throughout his body, coloring his cheeks with a dusting of rose.
Taemin watched him curiously as Kibum followed him backstage.
“Taemin, I .... kiss me again,” he demanded, awkwardly. Taemin blinked, eyes wide before leaning and pressing his lips against his.
“As you wish,” he whispered. Kibum growled and pressed back, lips molding perfectly against Taemin’s.
Somewhere deep down, Kibum thought that Taemin might have always been the object of his affection. That maybe he was projecting his feelings for Taemin onto Irang so he didn’t have to confront the fact that he wasn’t just in love with a boy, but a boy he lived and worked with. His rule of never mixing pleasure and business was shot to hell.
Taemin kissed him again, and the sparks that shot down Kibum’s spine were electrifying, to say the least.
He whined, slapped Taemin’s shoulder and playfully asked, “where have you been all my life?”
Taemin laughed and slid out of bed. He threw on a shirt and cocked a grin as he answered that he had been right here all along.