On Unstable Ground
Title: On Unstable Ground
Author: moi
Pairing: JongKey
Genre: Angst, Future!Fic
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: SME owns pretty boys and I own words. Talk about unfairness.
Summary: "Couldn't find any store open, I had to walk five blocks, can you imagine that?" is all Jonghyun gets to say, mouth numb and cheeks cold, before his hands linger on the door and his eyes lock on Kibum. He frowns.
A/N: Based on a combination of two anons' prompts at kpfw 10.0. Thank you, guys!♥ And ugh, please tell me they aren't terribly OOC ;~; /dies
"Couldn't find any store open, I had to walk five blocks, can you imagine that?" is all Jonghyun gets to say, mouth numb and cheeks cold, before his hands linger on the door and his eyes lock on Kibum. He frowns.
What he faces is the boy -because years may have passed but Kibum's still one- rather stiff on the couch, feet propped against the coffee table and eyes hard on the television opposite him. Now, that can only be worrying.
"Anything wrong?" he asks with a confused smile while finally closing the door behind him, and the fact that the other doesn't even look at him disturbs him. Promptly taking off his jacket, but failing to take the newly-purchased bar of chocolate out of his pocket, four words manage to make him freeze.
"You know, she called," Kibum says, and the way he pronounces she makes Jonghyun's insides burn. His head turns just enough to bring Jonghyun into his peripheral vision; he's studying him out of the corner of his eye now.
Jonghyun's mouth tightens, as does his whole body, and the little steps towards the other end of the couch are taken unconsciously. "What?" is the best he manages to say without his breath giving up on him. In reality, though, all that's going through his mind is Who are you trying to fool?
He follows Kibum's stare as it points towards the older's cellphone, carelessly forgotten on the table.
"Said she'd be coming home earlier tonight," he adds, but his voice doesn't sound particularly hurt. If anything, his tone is full of composure. It's only when he brushes his knuckles against his lips that Jonghyun recognises his anxiety.
He doesn't say anything in response, can't even get the words together, but he's not sure whatever he'd come up with would really do.
"When were you planning to tell me?" Kibum asks as he looks at Jonghyun once again, and the latter's head is stuck on the word 'home' and how wrong it actually sounded. He only has one home; this one.
"Tell you what?" That I'm a coward? That my parents had already hooked me up before you marched into my life again?
Kibum exhales. "That you want something more I'll never be able to offer you," he replies, expression as stony as it gets before he takes his eyes off Jonghyun. Anywhere but there.
Jonghyun leans down, fixing his palms on the frame of the couch. "That's not-"
"That's not what?"
"That's not the damn case," he closes his eyes and lets his head drop. He wants to say so many things, explain everything, and he would, if only they didn't all sound horrible in his head.
"How do you even juggle the two of us?" Kibum says with a humourless laugh that mostly sounds bitter, or even desperate, but is soon drowned out by the round of applause that comes from the television. Jonghyun would glare at the screen if he wasn't feeling so run down right now.
He remains silent. He wants to say that he only stays with her out of obligation. That he can't even touch her anymore. That whenever he's there he counts down the hours to come back to Kibum. Come back home. It's all true. The thing is he can't put his thoughts into words. Not now.
"Look," he manages, "you alone make my life worth living, you know that," he looks up, searching for Kibum's eyes. "It's just that," he stops.
Kibum raises his eyebrows for a second, face hard and stare heavy on Jonghyun. None of them talk for a while, the only one breaking the silence being the television. "Just try being in my shoes for a bit," Kibum whispers after a period that may as well have lasted for years, and Jonghyun sighs.
"Kibum-"
"Let's not do this right now," he cuts him off, sounding dejected for possibly the first time tonight, and stands up. He doesn't storm off, not in the least, he simply walks out of the living room, and that probably hurts more.
Jonghyun spends a few minutes on his own, simply listening to himself breathe.
------
When Jonghyun opens the balcony door, night breeze unpleasantly covering every inch of skin in display, his eyes immediately fall on the form crouched on the marble floor.
He doesn't speak, doesn't need to. He just lets the door fall shut behind him, the silence that follows whispering nothing more but what about now, what about now?
He watches as Kibum exhales, thick smoke travelling upwards, cigarette held close to his face, in between thin fingers. Kibum took up smoking soon after they disbanded, but only on occasion. Jonghyun figures this moment is worth it.
"What would you do?" Kibum asks some drags later, and Jonghyun can see nothing more but the back of his head -deep red reflecting dim light-, but he guesses his eyes may be welling up. He can't really hear it in the other's voice, but he knows his boundaries well enough; he knows when it's time for him to crack under the pressure.
And honestly? He wants to lie, say something like I'd forgive or I'd look for the solution in my heart or some other kind of sappy line. But he can't. "I'd leave," is all he says, and stares at Kibum's free hand, as fingers drum against a knee.
"Easier said than done," he replies with something undetectable in his voice, still not turning around.
"Thankfully," he says, and receives the smallest of chuckles, probably even a slightly sad one.
Kibum tosses his halfway-burnt cigarette somewhere off the balcony, and the sound it makes when it hits the ground is barely audible. The contrast of the burning tip against wet concrete is louder, actually.
"I just want you in my life," Jonghyun admits after a while, and the way he says it makes the sentence sound more like a note to self.
The other turns his head around, eyes catching the older's form. "You want it, but do you need it?"
One, or half a second passes.
"I think I do," he nods, and the light offered by the streetlamps is good enough to help him make out a pair of slightly wet eyes focused on him.
"You better," Kibum whispers at him and turns to look forward once more.
Neither of the two complains about the cold when they sit side by side on the floor. They don't really talk. They actually do nothing more than share some quiet for half an hour, until they maybe exchange two or three words just to get inside.
They don't sleep together, but they wake up on the same side of the bed.
They tiptoe around each other until the ground can handle both of them.
Author: moi
Pairing: JongKey
Genre: Angst, Future!Fic
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: SME owns pretty boys and I own words. Talk about unfairness.
Summary: "Couldn't find any store open, I had to walk five blocks, can you imagine that?" is all Jonghyun gets to say, mouth numb and cheeks cold, before his hands linger on the door and his eyes lock on Kibum. He frowns.
A/N: Based on a combination of two anons' prompts at kpfw 10.0. Thank you, guys!♥ And ugh, please tell me they aren't terribly OOC ;~; /dies
"Couldn't find any store open, I had to walk five blocks, can you imagine that?" is all Jonghyun gets to say, mouth numb and cheeks cold, before his hands linger on the door and his eyes lock on Kibum. He frowns.
What he faces is the boy -because years may have passed but Kibum's still one- rather stiff on the couch, feet propped against the coffee table and eyes hard on the television opposite him. Now, that can only be worrying.
"Anything wrong?" he asks with a confused smile while finally closing the door behind him, and the fact that the other doesn't even look at him disturbs him. Promptly taking off his jacket, but failing to take the newly-purchased bar of chocolate out of his pocket, four words manage to make him freeze.
"You know, she called," Kibum says, and the way he pronounces she makes Jonghyun's insides burn. His head turns just enough to bring Jonghyun into his peripheral vision; he's studying him out of the corner of his eye now.
Jonghyun's mouth tightens, as does his whole body, and the little steps towards the other end of the couch are taken unconsciously. "What?" is the best he manages to say without his breath giving up on him. In reality, though, all that's going through his mind is Who are you trying to fool?
He follows Kibum's stare as it points towards the older's cellphone, carelessly forgotten on the table.
"Said she'd be coming home earlier tonight," he adds, but his voice doesn't sound particularly hurt. If anything, his tone is full of composure. It's only when he brushes his knuckles against his lips that Jonghyun recognises his anxiety.
He doesn't say anything in response, can't even get the words together, but he's not sure whatever he'd come up with would really do.
"When were you planning to tell me?" Kibum asks as he looks at Jonghyun once again, and the latter's head is stuck on the word 'home' and how wrong it actually sounded. He only has one home; this one.
"Tell you what?" That I'm a coward? That my parents had already hooked me up before you marched into my life again?
Kibum exhales. "That you want something more I'll never be able to offer you," he replies, expression as stony as it gets before he takes his eyes off Jonghyun. Anywhere but there.
Jonghyun leans down, fixing his palms on the frame of the couch. "That's not-"
"That's not what?"
"That's not the damn case," he closes his eyes and lets his head drop. He wants to say so many things, explain everything, and he would, if only they didn't all sound horrible in his head.
"How do you even juggle the two of us?" Kibum says with a humourless laugh that mostly sounds bitter, or even desperate, but is soon drowned out by the round of applause that comes from the television. Jonghyun would glare at the screen if he wasn't feeling so run down right now.
He remains silent. He wants to say that he only stays with her out of obligation. That he can't even touch her anymore. That whenever he's there he counts down the hours to come back to Kibum. Come back home. It's all true. The thing is he can't put his thoughts into words. Not now.
"Look," he manages, "you alone make my life worth living, you know that," he looks up, searching for Kibum's eyes. "It's just that," he stops.
Kibum raises his eyebrows for a second, face hard and stare heavy on Jonghyun. None of them talk for a while, the only one breaking the silence being the television. "Just try being in my shoes for a bit," Kibum whispers after a period that may as well have lasted for years, and Jonghyun sighs.
"Kibum-"
"Let's not do this right now," he cuts him off, sounding dejected for possibly the first time tonight, and stands up. He doesn't storm off, not in the least, he simply walks out of the living room, and that probably hurts more.
Jonghyun spends a few minutes on his own, simply listening to himself breathe.
------
When Jonghyun opens the balcony door, night breeze unpleasantly covering every inch of skin in display, his eyes immediately fall on the form crouched on the marble floor.
He doesn't speak, doesn't need to. He just lets the door fall shut behind him, the silence that follows whispering nothing more but what about now, what about now?
He watches as Kibum exhales, thick smoke travelling upwards, cigarette held close to his face, in between thin fingers. Kibum took up smoking soon after they disbanded, but only on occasion. Jonghyun figures this moment is worth it.
"What would you do?" Kibum asks some drags later, and Jonghyun can see nothing more but the back of his head -deep red reflecting dim light-, but he guesses his eyes may be welling up. He can't really hear it in the other's voice, but he knows his boundaries well enough; he knows when it's time for him to crack under the pressure.
And honestly? He wants to lie, say something like I'd forgive or I'd look for the solution in my heart or some other kind of sappy line. But he can't. "I'd leave," is all he says, and stares at Kibum's free hand, as fingers drum against a knee.
"Easier said than done," he replies with something undetectable in his voice, still not turning around.
"Thankfully," he says, and receives the smallest of chuckles, probably even a slightly sad one.
Kibum tosses his halfway-burnt cigarette somewhere off the balcony, and the sound it makes when it hits the ground is barely audible. The contrast of the burning tip against wet concrete is louder, actually.
"I just want you in my life," Jonghyun admits after a while, and the way he says it makes the sentence sound more like a note to self.
The other turns his head around, eyes catching the older's form. "You want it, but do you need it?"
One, or half a second passes.
"I think I do," he nods, and the light offered by the streetlamps is good enough to help him make out a pair of slightly wet eyes focused on him.
"You better," Kibum whispers at him and turns to look forward once more.
Neither of the two complains about the cold when they sit side by side on the floor. They don't really talk. They actually do nothing more than share some quiet for half an hour, until they maybe exchange two or three words just to get inside.
They don't sleep together, but they wake up on the same side of the bed.
They tiptoe around each other until the ground can handle both of them.