hey baby, what's your call number? (2/2)

[retried]

Part one

The house is already shaking with music and bodies by the time Kibum arrives, half an hour late. He knocks at the front door, feeling awkward and overdressed. The house is beautiful, bigger than he’d thought, and he feels out of place. He wishes he could leave.

The door swings open just as he’s made up his mind to text Taemin, and Jonghyun grins at him, big, surprised, happy. “Kibum! Oh, man, I was getting worried you weren’t gonna make it. Come in, come in! No, it’s cool,” he says, waving off what must be the bouncer, “he’s with me.”

Jonghyun turns, yelling something into the crowd, and Kibum uncertainly crosses the threshold. He’s immediately surrounded by bodies all around; the sea of plastic red cups and cheap cologne threatens to overwhelm him. Girls and boys dance all around him, drunk, sober, fucked up, high. Someone elbows him in the stomach and another person yells an apology. Kibum shrinks back against the door. The music is so loud it pounds against his ribcage.

“Hey!” Jonghyun reappears at his elbow, all smile and easy charm. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink.” He takes Kibum by the elbow, leading-dragging him around the periphery of the crowd and out of the noisy foyer. The next room is a little quieter, but only a little. As soon as they can walk freely Jonghyun releases Kibum’s elbow. He still has to lean in close to be heard.

“Sorry about that mess, we told the DJ to set up in the basement but everyone got here an hour early so everything’s kind of all over the place. It’s pretty crazy out there, right?” His eyes are a little glassed, but his cup is full and his smile is genuine. Kibum smiles back, still a little shaky.
“Yeah,” he agrees, looking around him, “I mean, it’s not… not what I expected, but…”

“A little too loud for your tastes, huh, library boy?” Kibum shoots him a look, and Jonghyun smirks, leaning over to ruffle Kibum’s hair. “Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you to these plebeians. I already told the guys I’d be indisposed for the evening, so consider myself,” he leans forward, expression twisted into a comically awkward leer, “yours.”
It’s testament to how far Kibum’s gone that his heart still does that weird clenching thing.

“So,” Jonghyun continues, oblivious to Kibum’s plight, “beer.” He leads Kibum into what must be the kitchen, apologizing as he does so: “Sorry, we don’t really have any more cups. People were supposed to bring their own but you know how it gets.” He looks around, shrugs, and hands Kibum a half-empty bottle of vodka.

“... Thanks,” Kibum says, taking it uncertainly.

“No problem,” Jonghyun laughs, grabbing a bottle and an opener. He pops the lid and takes a long chug; Kibum watches the way his throat clenches and unclenches and feels something knot in his own.

“So,” he says, glancing around the kitchen awkwardly, “nice... place you have.”

Jonghyun laughs, easy and slow. “Thanks,” he says, setting the bottle down on the counter. “Wanna tour?” He sees Kibum’s expression, and grins. “Come on, it’s better than going back out there.” He gestures to the open door; in the next room, a girl from Kibum’s econ class is stripping on the dining room table.

Kibum finds himself grinning. “I guess you’ve got a point.” He motions to Jonghyun with the bottle, ducking his head a little. “Lead on, captain.”

“Hmm,” Jonghyun muses, opening a door off the kitchen, “I could get used to that nickname.” He continues before Kibum can react, leading him through yet another door: “We start our tour here, in the television room, named so because this is where we watch television.”

“I can see why you’re a philosophy major.”

“Shut up. Through here, hallway, very boring, the bathroom, hello, miss, good luck with the vomit, and up these stairs we go...” Jonghyun bounces up the stairs three at a time, and Kibum follows, taking an experimental sip of the vodka when Jonghyun isn’t looking. He finds that it is pleasantly orange flavored.

“This is the study-slash-beer pong room, this is the other bathroom, and good luck to you too, good sir, here’s where we lock up the pledges when they’ve been naughty, and here,” Jonghyun comes to a sudden halt, and Kibum almost runs into his back, “is Minho’s room.”

He turns slowly, raising his eyebrows up until they almost touch his hairline. “Few have ever dared set foot in this cave of horror and wonder. Are you ready, grasshopper?”

Kibum meets Jonghyun’s eyes as he slowly tips the bottle back down his throat. He’s gratified to see Jonghyun swallow, just a bit. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Maybe he’s imagining it, but Jonghyun’s voice is a little strained. “Right answer,” he says, and pushes the door open.

They walk in to find Taemin straddling Minho on a bed.

“What,” says Kibum.

“Uh,” says Jonghyun.

“Hyung, can you please close the door,” says Taemin.

“But… you’re straight…” says Kibum.

“It’s college,” says Taemin.

“Can you get the fuck out of my room?” says Minho. His voice is muffled. Kibum does not want to know why.

There is a pause. Kibum and Jonghyun silently step out of the room and very, very quietly close the door.

Jonghyun looks over at Kibum. “Uh. Are you okay?” There is something in his voice that sounds suspiciously like laughter.

“No,” says Kibum flatly. “No, I am not okay, and I will never be okay again.”

“Shh, shh,” says Jonghyun, “don’t think about it, just drink.” He takes the bottle from Kibum’s grasp and presses it against his lips.

Kibum glares at Jonghyun. “You suck at seduction,” he means to say, but it comes out as a choking mess of spit and vodka. He splutters, shoving the bottle away and wiping his mouth and his now wet shirt. Jonghyun, the bastard, is now outright laughing.

“Wow,” he says, “that is the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh my god, go fuck yourself,” Kibum grumbles, and glowers as Jonghyun laughs harder. “No, I’m serious.”

Jonghyun shakes his head. “Christ, you’re cute.” Kibum blinks, but Jonghyun doesn’t seem to notice. He takes Kibum’s arm again, this time gently. “Come on, I’ll show you something that will cheer you up.”

“If you say your penis-”

Jonghyun laughs but doesn’t stop. They go up one last flight of stairs, and Jonghyun turns right on the top landing. Kibum trails after him, confused but interested. They go all the way to the end of the hallway, and stop at the last door.

“My room,” he explains.

Kibum gives him a Look. “Jonghyun...”

He raises his hands as if in defense. “Relax, this isn’t a ‘get in my pants you wild child of the night’ thing, it’s a ‘hey, this is a dumb jock party and you don’t like dumb jock parties so we should go in my room where there isn’t a dumb jock party’ thing.”

Kibum blinks. “Wild child of the night?”

Jonghyun shrugs.

His room is the smallest one, he explains, but he asked for this one. “It’s the furthest away from all the noise,” he says, plopping down on the bed and motioning for Kibum to join him, “and it has a fucking skylight. I would sleep on the roof if I could have a skylight.”

“You wouldn’t need a skylight then,” Kibum says, approaching the bed a little apprehensively. Jonghyun snorts and pulls at his kneecap.

Kibum falls on the bed next to him. It’s weirdly comfortable, and when he looks up, true enough, he can see stars. “Huh,” he mutters, eyes straining to find the black amid the blinding white. “That’s kind of awesome.”

Kibum doesn’t know how long they talk. Or what they talk about, really; it starts with majors and bounces to life goals and an hour and a half later they’re debating Jean-Luc versus Kirk; Kibum’s always been a Shatner guy but Jonghyun’s impassioned speech about the dualistic relationship between man and machine as reflected on Jean-Luc’s hybrid body sways him, if only just a little. In the end they agree that Janeway could kick anyone’s ass.

Somewhere along the line, and Kibum doesn’t know where, Jonghyun’s hand has ended up on Kibum’s wrist - they stay away from his fingers, never transgressing that unspoken agreement, but somehow this is better (worse), Jonghyun’s fingers slowly tracing the veins of his wrist up and down, up and down. He shivers.

“Kibum,” Jonghyun whispers. And Kibum - he doesn’t know what it is, maybe it's the vodka, or maybe it's how cold the room suddenly feels, or maybe just that Jonghyun is turning out to be a lot sweeter than he thought, but when he leans his head against Jonghyun’s shoulder he leaves it there.

Jonghyun exhales, very slowly.

They haven’t said anything in twenty minutes - the music still shakes the house frame, but Kibum is sure that his heartbeat can be heard downstairs. Jonghyun’s fingers still, and Kibum - Kibum whimpers.
Fuck.

“Kibum,” Jonghyun repeats, only it sounds like a plea. When Kibum turns his head it only seems natural for their lips to press together. When Jonghyun’s lips part, it only seems natural for Kibum’s to as well. When Jonghyun's hands push against his shirt hem it only seems natural to help him.

When Kibum wakes up to see the clock blinking three AM at him, it only seems natural to gather his discarded clothing and sneak out of the room before Jonghyun notices something is missing from his arms.

The dull pound to his heartbeat, though - that feels far from natural.

The best thing about having Jinki as a best friend is that he doesn’t ask any questions when Kibum comes back; doesn’t accuse him or yell at him or make him do anything besides lie on the sofa watching reruns of Next Generation until 5 AM.

The worst thing about Jinki is that he lets Taemin in.

“Hyung,” Taemin says, somehow managing to make it sound like the worst insult imaginable.

Kibum doesn’t move from the couch. Taemin crosses the room, standing square in front of the television so Kibum is forced to choose between staring at his crotch or staring at his face. It’s a tough decision.

“Hyung, what were you thinking?” He looks - he looks a lot of things, a mismatch of worried and angry and sad and disappointed, and the last one is by far the worst. Kibum hates it when Taemin looks like that, least of all for him.

“Leave it alone, Taemin,” he says, trying to bury himself in the couch cushions.

Taemin swells up, his eyes narrowed and his cheeks red. “No, hyung, I won’t!” he exclaims. Kibum almost expects him to stomp his feet. “Do you know what Minho-hyung told me when I called him this morning?”

“Wait, why were you calling Minho?” Kibum lifts his head, his need for gossip overruling his general malaise.

“Not the issue, hyung!” Kibum’s head flops back down. “Minho-hyung told me that Jonghyun won’t come out of his room! He’s been drinking all night! He’s going to drop out of school and die, hyung!”

“Liar,” Kibum says into the pillow.

“Not about the first one!” Taemin protests. He crouches next to the couch, shaking Kibum’s shoulder roughly. “Hyung, look at me.” Kibum only resists for a few seconds - the little bastard is tough. Taemin’s expression is the most serious he’s ever seen it. “Jonghyun-hyung really likes you. And you were really shitty to him. And that sucks.”

“I didn’t mean to sleep with him!” Kibum yells so loud Taemin draws back. Kibum bites his lip, mollified by Taemin’s expression - equal parts shock and disbelief.

“You slept with him?” Taemin asks, eyes wide, and then, “you slept with him and then left?”

“Fuck,” Kibum says, “fuck fuck fu- no, Taemin, I was lying, I was- It was whatever Minho told you, alright?” He pushes himself off the couch, striding a few steps with a newfound sense of purpose before realizing he has nothing to be purposeful about. He stops.

“Hyung,” Taemin says from behind him. He sounds older than Kibum. Braver than Kibum. “You slept with him, and then you left. And he really likes you.”

“What the fuck do you want me to do, Taemin?” Kibum snarls, turning and glaring at his friend. “You keep telling me to just open up to him, to try to like him, and I did, I did exactly what you wanted me to do and-”

“Yeah, hyung, and you did like him,” Taemin says softly. Kibum stops short. “I saw you at dinner, and I saw you at the party, and I saw you all those other times he came up to flirt with you at the desk. You like him, hyung, you really, really like him, but you’re too much of a-” he stops, as if struggling to find the perfect word, “too much of a jerk to admit it.”

The only sound in the room is Picard screaming in pain as he’s tortured. Kibum can relate.

“Taemin,” he tries.

“Kibum, shut up. I’m not the person you should be talking to.”

“You’re really gonna try that line on me?”

“I am when it’s true!” His tiger-angry expression is back, and Kibum feels like hiding or crying or maybe both. “You need to do this, hyung. I’m tired of seeing you torture yourself and anyone who dares to treat you like a person worth being loved.”

They glare at each other, Kibum full of shame and resentment, Taemin, with anger and hurt. Finally, after what seems like hours, Kibum’s shoulders relax. His head slumps, like a rag doll. Taemin’s eyes soften just a bit, unseen.”

“... I really do like him, Taemin,” he says, almost too quietly to hear.

“I know, hyung.”

“But I can’t call him,” he says, looking up. “If I call him, he’s not gonna pick up. And I...” He stops. “I can’t deal with him not picking up.”

Taemin opens his mouth as if to retort, but Kibum continues before he can: “Tomorrow, when he comes to the library. I promise. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to him.”

Taemin looks at him suspiciously, and Kibum holds up a pinky. “I swear, Taemin. It’s not just for you, I... I need to make this right.”

He’s greeted with a smile this time; soft and sad and still a little hurt. “I know you do, hyung. I know you will.”

Jonghyun doesn’t come the next day.

Or the day after that, or the day after that.

A week and a half later, Taemin tells him to give up.

Kibum listens for about thirty minutes. Then he gets pissed.

He understands, he tells Taemin, who listens with wide eyes, if Jonghyun never wants to see him again. And he understands if Jonghyun thinks he's the biggest dick on the planet. Those are sane and rational options. What he doesn't understand is why Jonghyun would rather give up the library than see Kibum. And that’s just wrong.

"Wow, hyung," says Taemin, looking impressed, "that was the nerdiest thing I've ever heard."

"Thank you," Kibum says.

He clocks out early with Taemin's full support. He's intent on storming Sigma Chi, on finding Jonghyun, on demanding he listen while Kibum pours out his feelings and emotions and righteous librarian rage. He is going to tell Jonghyun his stupid feelings and Jonghyun is going to acknowledge them and then Kibum is going to leave feeling stupid and rejected and that is going to be okay.

He gets as far as the bound journals section when he starts to panic. Thankfully, that's where he finds Jonghyun.

"... What," he says.

Jonghyun looks up."Fuck," he says, his expression becoming panicked, "I thought you left through the other entrance-" And then he must remember who he's talking to, because his eyes gets hard and steely and he glares back down at his textbook, silent.

Kibum glares right back. He's been pining stupidly over Jonghyun for the past three weeks and he's not going to allow Jonghyun to reject him without even so much as looking at him. He marches over to Jonghyun's table and slams his textbook shut.

"Listen, dick," he says - he realizes as he says it that it probably isn't the best thing to start out with, judging from Jonghyun's expression, but he plows ahead anyway, "I know that I acted like an asshole. I know that that was probably the shittiest thing I could have done and I should have stayed and told you I didn't want anything, or, I guess I should have stayed and told you I want something, which is the right response but I didn't realize it then, I think I was still drunk - but, whatever, fuck you! I like you and your fucking idiotic hair and your stupid Polos and that irritates me so much! I don’t like it when people like me and I really don’t like it when I like them back! But what I hate most of all is that you didn't even give me a chance to tell you that! You were gonna make me go over to your stupid frat house and say it in front of your stupid frat brothers and it was going to be so embarrassing, even more embarrassing than this is, and that's just! Really shitty! And your hair is stupid! And I hate you." He stops suddenly. He probably should have done that a few sentences ago.

Jonghyun is looking at him with a curious expression. It's not angry anymore - well, it's still a little angry around the edges, but it's been replaced with something like... Relief? Amusement? Joy? It's a weird mixture of all three, Kibum decides, but he doesn't have much time to think on it because Jonghyun is saying -

"What was that you were saying about wanting something?"

And then, then Jonghyun is smiling, that stupid, big, happy smile, and Kibum realizes what's going on.

"I was saying," he says slowly, "that your hair is stupid." There's something very small and fragile here, and he doesn't want to break it, but Jonghyun's smile widens and something Kibum didn't even know was knotted up loosens in his chest. He smiles back, just a little, and this time it feels real.

"I'm sorry," he says again, soft and fast, "I'm just, I'm really sorry for how I acted, Jonghyun. Not just that night."

Jonghyun looks at him. He's still smiling, but there's something in his expression that makes Kibum think this could all vanish, if he says the wrong word. If he breathes wrong.

"I really like you, Jonghyun," he says. And then Jonghyun laughs, loud. Happy. And Kibum breathes.

When Jonghyun takes his hand, Kibum's fingers tighten in his. When Jonghyun presses his lips against Kibum's, his own open in response. When Jonghyun whispers ''thank you,'' Kibum laughs into his mouth.

Taemin finds them in the stacks half an hour later. He quits on sight.