Archive of Our Own ^beta

the news that renowned editor-in-chief of the notorious kim kibum, a self-proclaimed single; devoted and tied down to no one but haute couture, is dating his assistant kim jonghyun, an unremarkable man lacking an eye for fashion, is news to the world, and news most of all, to jonghyun himself.

kibum had hardly even tried to explain himself (in typical kibum style), not too long after jonghyun had woken up late for work only to be ambushed by a mob of reporters when he’d dashed into the nearest café for kibum’s morning coffee. he’d had six minutes and thirty seven seconds from stepping outside of that café’s door to make it to the third floor from the top of shinee’s company building, and less and less as the reporters shoved and jostled him for answers.

he hadn’t even been awake, much less paying attention to the words they were spewing at him. so many questions jonghyun hadn’t the brain capacity to take note of them, blind to the microphones pushed into his face. he’d taken on the assumption that kibum had gotten himself into another scandal (yet again, no surprise there) until he more or less found himself in the lobby, staggering forwards to accidently spit out the mouthful of his own coffee onto poor namjoo’s bright phone screen.

he’d only just entered the bright lobby, white marble floors blinding him a little, before he’d been ambushed yet again. jonghyun considered escape routes for a second, possible places he could climb out to scale the goddamn skyscraper if he could, tossing up what would be worse, being ripped to shreds by reporters or literally murdered by a caffeine craving kibum.

(he’d choose the reporters any day)

though he’s not given much choice at all, after he comes to terms with his literal spitting of coffee onto namjoo’s phone and dress ensemble.

jonghyun wheezes from a blow to the stomach, namjoo’s stronger than she looks; her big eyes, wobbling high heels and little black dress a façade for who she truly is. majority of the time jonghyun finds himself being hit around the workplace, it’s rather playful, just friendly workplace banter (like the time taemin stapled his eyebrow). this time, he feels the blow low in his chest and barely manages to speak.

“fuck i’m literally so sorry.”

hot coffee dribbles down his shirt and drips to the floor from namjoo’s poor phone.

“you’re so gross!” she squeaks shrilly, sending eyes their way, sending another blow to the stomach with the back if her hand. “i swear to god, my phone breaks and i’m literally suing you,” stepping back from jonghyun, namjoo shakes the coffee from her phone and makes a face of utter despair, looking like she wants to toss the thing out a window. coffee drips artfully across the floor.

“don’t go purposely breaking your phone now i’m not buying you a better one,” jonghyun moans, unable to clutch his stomach due to the coffees in-hand.

jonghyun’s looking for the nearest exit – an escape plan of sorts, glancing up down and all around and he needs to go before he gets decked by his boss. “kibum will have me on a rope if i don’t go now, i’m sorry again namjoo!”

still holding her dripping phone, namjoo huffs in annoyance, trying to find something to wipe jonghun’s coffee spit off with. jonghyun’s almost made a break for it, desperately mashing at the elevator buttons in the hopes it will speed them up. attempting to hold two to-go cups of coffee in one hand and screaming at the elevator is not a good look for the company, but it will have to do.

his thoughts drift back to kibum when he realizes he’s safe from namjoo’s wrath. his most recent ‘scandal’ being headlines plastered across her phone, which had been unceremoniously shoved in his face, hence the coffee incident.

however this time, kibum had managed to drag jonghyun into it.

“wait, jonghyun!” namjoo calls. “is it true you’re dating that uptight devil?”

she stage whispers the last part, perhaps afraid of him hearing. jonghyun can only groan. dating and kibum don’t really compute in his mind - he fails to connect the dots for a moment, before he realizes exactly what namjoo is saying and struggles to give any kind of human coherent response.

he figures if he’s going to give any kind of statement, he better not put more fuel on the flames. “i deny everything and anything. no comment.” he proclaims, and with that he steps into the closest elevator that had gone off with a light ding, the back of his head hitting the walls of the elevator as he sighs in sweet, sweet relief.

the events of the morning bring him to sitting in kibum’s office, hands in his lap on the sofa kibum has to the side of the room by the door (at least he can escape easily, if so he has to, he supposes, already thinking of the worst possible scenario) opposite the floor to ceiling windows exposing the city view. he can just see the sun peaking out from white clouds, at least it’s not raining outside, jonghyun couldn’t deal with anything else to lessen his mood.

kibum’s sipping at his venti double shot soy chai latte with jonghyun’s own black coffee sculled and dumped in the trash (albeit the small amount on his shirt. he’d borrowed jinki’s sweater to hide it, scrambling through the brief twentieth floor lobby and throwing it over his clothes while somehow managing to keep the coffee intact) waiting for him to half-heartedly explain himself.

jonghyun can’t exactly yell at his boss, no matter how much he really wants to. kibum is scary and jonghyun hadn’t worked his ass off for nothing (sure he’s an assistant, but an assistant to editor-in-chief of shinee magazine and that’s got to count for something in the eyes of his career)

kibum at least has the decency to look ashamed, eyes avoiding jonghyun’s gaze behind his takeaway coffee cup and stack of towering paperwork. he notices there’s a smiley face next to jonghyun’s name that the barista had penned onto the cup, shame it had to go to kibum’s cup instead of his own (god knows that overworked and heartless man needed it though)

“i didn’t intended to drag you into this,” kibum says, fiddling with a fancy pen, seeming almost sympathetic, which is strange considering kibum could literally have a reputation ruined by a bad article. “however,” he begins, “my parents have been nagging me to get married and i really wanted to piss off my old man.” he pauses, for what must be dramatic affect and jonghyun thinks kibum is pettiest, prissiest man he’d ever met. “so i said i had a boyfriend. which i don’t.”

“so you said your ‘boyfriend’ was me?” asks jonghyun, finger quotes and all, still quite unbelieving of the situation. you run a fashion magazine, he bemoans internally, how can you fail to connect the dots and pick someone else to be your fake-pseudo boyfriend.

“well no,” kibum explains, still fiddling with his pen, head ducked and pretty lips upturned like he’s enjoying ruining both of their lives; like scandalous acts in the eyes of the public are run and not full of Angst and Annoying Reporters. “eomma took the assumption it was you since you’re the only guy i’ve ever spoken of, and you trail me like a lost puppy at every occasion.”

when had kibum spoken of him? the thought is strangely flattering, despite everything else. jonghyun likes the idea of being thought about a little too much. he shoves the thought away, still a tiny bit angry. he was not a fucking lost puppy.

if his balled fists and reddening face are anything to go by, he can even feel a slight twitch beginning in his left eye.

“and you didn’t think to correct her.” he tries to keep his voice even, because he really doesn’t want to loose this job.

“well, she went off on a tangent as she does and before i could even correct her i think she was on to wedding planners.” if jonghyun had any coffee left, it would have been a repeat of his early scene with namjoo, something he honest to god never wanted to repeat in front of his boss.

however kibum seems to of have gained some of his confidence back, as usual not much can shoot him down. he already looks as if he’s going to shoo jonghyun out of his office by the end of the minute. he’s already started on the paper work; jonghyun’s time to escape this is ticking.

“now,” he beams, voice thick with daegu disdain, like he’s talking to a pet he expects will obey perfect instructions. “it’s simple. you just have to pretend to be my boyfriend for the next two weeks. she’s coming down from daegu and she insists she meet you.”

jonghyun nearly collapses. “what the fuc-“

kibum speaks up over jonghyun’s squeaks of wedding planners and his mother. how is he so calm!?

“it won’t be difficult. attend lunch when you have to, maybe a dinner if eomma insists. we see each other in a work environment after all, i’m sure she doesn’t expect too much.”

“it’s not just your mother though!” jonghyun says exasperatedly. “what am i supposed to do about the mob of reporters following me at every turn!”

kibum sighs. “they’re like bloodhounds once they catch the whiff of a potential story, though it’ll blow over eventually.”

“how will this just ‘blow over’ with our names plastered all over the news? do you even know how big your name is in this industry! are you sure it’s wise to let news spread of this type of relationship?”

well at least jonghyun’s semi gaining back his confidence, now not as nervous (maybe angrier) than he had been earlier.

“are you implying that gay relationships are bad, kim?” he asks. no longer scribbling anything down with his fancy pen. cat eyes dark and brows furrowed.

“n-no sir!”

“you know many people in this industry aren’t closeted about their sexuality, i for one thought you would have been one of them.”

… did his boss just call him gay? there goes his growing confidence; down into the trash alongside his empty coffee cup and wow he’s going to need a lot more than one dose of caffeine to get him through this day. jonghyun’s curious to known what assumptions kibum’s basing this off of.

“it’s not that! i just… with me? i’m only an assistant sir, i’m not cut out for dealing with all those cameras. what if i say something wrong?”

“you won’t, just keep your head down and they’ll get bored,” he says, before also tacking on, “and you’ll get a pay rise by the end of this, a bonus at the end of the month too.”

it seems so unconvincing, too fast-paced for jonghyun to even reply. mumbles and groans come from jonghyun before kibum cuts him off, eyes lifting from the paper with a sarcastic grin.

“well, i appreciate the cooperation.”

and that’s final.

kibum dismisses jonghyun despite his splutters and protests, waving him off with the flick of his pen and comments of errands jonghyun has to run for the day. never before has jonghyun hated his boss so much, he hadn’t even hated him to this extent when he’d been called in to work two hours early and on the weekend. he’d been sporting a killer hangover that day, not something he wants to relive. yet now he finds himself wanting to punch a wall, maybe taemin if the brat is close by.

“don’t you look like shit,” pipes up jisoo, blatantly fake yet still designer glasses perched on his nose. bad eyesight isn’t a fashion statement jisoo, jonghyun wants to snap.

jonghyun stomps past. “shove it four eyes.”

he hopes kibum doesn’t see him flipping off jisoo (and maybe kibum) from his fundamentally glass office, who needs a glass door and walls? does kibum not care for privacy? luckily he’s still slumped over more paperwork, not even chancing a glance in jonghyun’s direction.

at least that stack of paperwork kibum’s hidden behind reminds him he’s got to pester one of the designers for next month’s mock ups. a fun task that’s going to be, they’re always so particular.

/

“jinki i’m keeping your sweater,” jonghyun announces over his fourth coffee for the day. his mind is buzzing a little.

“borrow one of your boyfriend’s sweaters, i’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“fuck you, it’s complicated.”

word spreads quickly through the office, he can literally see the gossip travelling from cubicle to cubicle and floor to floor. they’re all worse than high schoolers.

jonghyun’s tried his best to avoid kibum, despite being an assistant there’s a range of things he uses to avoid, such as coffee breaks, and a lot of them.

it’s only for today, jonghyun tells himself, only for today will jonghyun allow himself to be petty and ignore his own boss (as best as he can) and then for the next two weeks he’s playing it out as the perfect boyfriend.

if he doesn’t get that huge pay rise, he’s quitting.

/

coincidently it’s early on saturday morning - jonghyun’s one peaceful day off before he’s got to meet kibum’s mother – when he awake to the awful and unethical buzz of his phone going off.

it had pulled him from sleep, and at first he’d thought it was his alarm for work, the intrusive ‘bzzz’ and then a pause and then yet again another ‘bzzz’, worming it’s way into his peaceful state of dreaming. he’d been talking to his plants in a dream, little cactuses that had small mouths and didn’t fucking demand he date them, but they’d gone from talking to just buzzing at him and then he’d been awake, glaring at the ceiling above him as his phone rattled away on his desk.

the dream quickly fades when the incessant buzzing stops, letting him know that it really was a call and not his alarm for monday morning had he unfortunately slept through the entire weekend. he rolls back over with a sigh, throwing an arm over his face at the sunlight peeking between the cracks in his curtains, and lets himself doze off again.

and then the buzzing his back; shocking him from his warm comfortable state of almost sleep like a bucket of ice. whoever’s calling must really have something important to say if they’re interrupting his lie in morning.

he whacks his hand about on the desk beside him, reaching out in what seemed like the area of his phone, knocking off a book or two in the process, before he finally grasps his phone.

blindly he swipes his thumb across the screen, eyes blurry from sleep, before he has a chance to see who is calling.

“hello?” he says. he’s certain his voice must sound like he’s swallowed sandpaper because it sure feels like it. he searches desperately for a bottle or cup of water, but with none in sight he settles for trying to swallow down the dryness on his tongue.

“kim, i need you to meet me in hannam-dong at eleven,” the stranger on the phone says. did they get a wrong number? hannam-dong is far to upper class for him, he probably couldn’t even afford to eat at one of the cafes.

“mister i think you got the wrong number.”

“it’s kim kibum, your boss, idiot. now get your ass out of bed this is an emergency.” the now not so stranger says.

“ah.” well shit. “can’t this wait till a later hour.” he bemoans, not really thinking, and simply wanting sleep.

“if you still want your job.” he doesn’t. he’s quitting. he’s going to quit this is it. “then i suggest you get moving, you’ve got less than an hour.” jonghyun’s phone blinks 10:12 a.m. “i’ll text you the address.”

and then with a click kibum’s gone, the echo of his end call tone punctuating the silence of his apartment. keeping it short and simple as always.

jonghyun pulls the skin on his face down and lets it snap back to place with a groan.

/

jonghyun finds himself standing out the front of a large block of apartments overlooking the han river. the address on his phone glares up at him through the brightness, and he wonders if he even got the right house.

in comparison to the glamour of just the exterior of this building and those around it jonghyun feels underdressed, honestly he’s just wearing the clothes he’d first seen scattered on the floor when he’d rolled out of bed. a crumpled grey sweater with a stain on the sleeve and black shorts, he should’ve dressed up more if he’d actually paid attention to the location.

he scuffs his worn out converse on the tarmac, chewing at his lip as he tilts his head back to observe the towering building, all large windows and smooth walls. in comparison to his own apartment block he thinks it would be like living in a palace, and dreads to think how much prettier the interior is.

in the end, after a good five minutes of standing around looking lost in amongst a bustle of beautiful people all going important places, does jonghyun actually text kibum.

i’m outside

11:09am

he stands around for another minute or two, simply watching the comings and goings of those around him, he’s sure the fur coat of the woman who just bumped into him is worth more than he earns in a year, before kibum finally texts back.

i’ll buzz you in.

11:11am

jonghyun decides to hang around the door, some large and weirdly electronic device on the wall beeps. there’s a lot of numbers and jonghyun has no idea what to do. he thinks there’s also a camera on this, it only adds to the multitude of security cameras that cover this area. he’s seen something like this on a movie once; his own apartment block only has metal bars and locked doors for security. none of these fancy buttons.

what do i do

11:12am

he desperately texts kibum, a moment before he starts mashing buttons.

it does the trick (well the buttons he’d clicked were kibum’s unit on the address) but the light on the large glass door flickers to green so he calls it a success.

kibum texts back with only his floor number and a hurry up.

he creeps in to an open plan design, yet more glass and shiny surfaces. it’s like a whole new world to jonghyun and he spies an elevator.

beats having to take the stairs like he does back at his own apartment.

no tacky music plays on the elevator ride up, just silence and the slightest whir of machinery, so he leans back against the railing, the mirrored surfaces bouncing his reflection back to him at all angles. his hair’s a mess, all sticking out at odd angles that he’d hardly had a chance in his rush to get here, and his eyes are far too puffy.

he attempts to flatten his bird’s nest hair, and wipes his sweating palms on his shorts. the day is far to hot and he’s far too nervous for this. he feels as if he’s walking into a trap that kibum has set.

before the elevator jolts to a stop, he manages to push his sleeves up and smooth his clothes at a last ditch attempt to neaten his appearance.

the hallway is cooler than the stuffy metal elevator, a wash of cold open air that lets jonghyun breath easy again (kibum’s probably planning on firing him personally or something, who knows with that man, so jonghyun has every right to panic a little)

and “kim, you have to live with me for two weeks.” is the last thing jonghyun expected to hear, after being ambushed by two small fluffy dogs when kibum answered the door after one knock.

/

it’s after jonghyun’s gotten over the shock of kibum’s announcement, having sat down on one of kibum’s fancy sofas for half an hour sipping weak coffee, petting one of his two dogs that had settled down next to him, and listening to kibum babble about how his mother was expecting them to live together. ‘how come you hadn’t corrected her?!’ jonghyun had exclaimed and kibum had gone on about how he’d made up a loose backstory to their relationship and accidentally implied they stayed in the same apartment. ‘purely misinterpretation!” he’d said and jonghyun has rolled his eyes. kibum’s hopeless; he can snap a whole company into shape from the brink of bankruptcy but can’t argue against his own mother.

but now kibum’s mother is genuinely under the impression that he and kibum live under the same roof, one that she too is going to stay under come tomorrow and jonghyun is entirely unsure what to do with this information.

kibum actually does look quite distressed about this, his usually styled dark hair a mess just like jonghyun’s own, as if he’s pulled at it a couple of times, and his overly expensive and probably designer clothing looks rumpled.

“does that mean we have to do… actual couple things.” jonghyun grimaces. it’s his boss! he can hardly picture himself even being friends with his boss, never mind holding hands or even kissing him! even if he does have particularly nice lips, a soft cupids bow, and he stops that thought in its tracks, crushing it down, very deep down.

“not too over the top,” kibum says weakly. “maybe hold hands once in a while, act friendly to each other.”

“that’s convincing,” jonghyun snorts.

“i don’t think she expects us to be making out against every counter!”

hot. jonghyun thinks before he can stop himself, there’s a nice marble counter top in that kitchen. “yeah maybe not that far, i don’t think she’d appreciate that.”

“definitely not.”

/

one thing, is definite.

they’re fucked. and it’s all kibum’s fault.

/

it’s gone twelve when he and kibum finalize the details of their plan, kibum having rambled about a supposed idea that they at least need to know about each other.

jonghyun’s curled up on the couch at this point, another coffee in hand and kibum’s taken refuge next to him, patting the tiny togs that yap for their attention.

“well we gotta get to know each other and i don’t know what you favourite colour is,” jonghyun says. “what is it?”

“pink.”

oh, well that’s a surprise.

“mine’s yellow by the way.” jonghyun hums. “how much do you know about me, gotta know what we’re starting with, you know?”

“i, uh… not a lot. only what we’d know about each other through work.”

“you don’t know a lot about your employees do you? cause i know a lot about you.”

“oh, like what?”

“well you take your coffee far too sweet, i thought mean bosses were supposed to drink black coffee,” he starts off, thoughtfully. “you love fashion but also prefer comfort so you’ve got like fifty different pairs of sweatpants. i think i saw you kick taemin once and smile. you adore exid, your ringtone is hot pink and don’t think i haven’t seen you watching music videos when you pretend to be working. at least try to be subtle.” he snickers, and to the look of shock plastered across kibum’s face, jonghyun takes one last gulp of his coffee. smug.

jonghyun knows a lot about kibum, having been his assistant, it’s hard not to. however kibum really doesn’t know a lot about him.

“i’ll write some shit down for you to memorize over lunch, i’m starving.”

kibum finally settles his features into something less shocked. “you’ve only been working for me for nine months how do you know so much?”

“you’d be surprised about what you learn on the job.”

jonghyun pulls himself up from the sofa, dusting imaginary dirt off his pants, and petting kibum’s dog’s head goodbye.

“now please, i really haven’t eaten breakfast, lunch is the least you owe me.”

/

kibum drags him out to one of the fancy cafés, a quaint little building on the riverfront with a modern interior, all dark matte tables, ceramic saltshakers and one brick wall that contrasts with the sleek counter top. it’s nicer than any cheap café he’s ever entered.

kibum’s got his dogs in tow, much to jonghyun’s delight he’s allowed to walk one of them, a little fluffy brown thing on a dark leash running about sniffing at anything and everything.

the one he’s walking, jonghyun learns, is named commes des, and the other garçons. of fucking course they’re names after a fashion brand, jonghyun doesn’t even know what he expected.

this area is far to rich for him, he’s sure he’s seen at least one celebrity already out the corner of his eyes already, and he gawks at the pretty sights adorning the riverbank. he’s glad there are no dispatch reporters hassling him or kibum today.

he’s still feeling underdressed, and much more inadequate right next to kibum, who, despite his still shell shocked appearance, is still looking as if he stepped straight off the cover of a magazine.

they locate a table in the corner of the outside patio, close enough to the river for a jetty like feel to the wooden boards beneath the tables and chairs, and they tie the two dogs leads to the metal railing by their table so they don’t wander too far.

jonghyun busies himself with reading through a small menu, it’s all very overpriced, half a sandwich is probably at least a days worth of meals for him. he hopes kibum has the heart to pay for him, which he better after all he’s put him through at so early.

“do we have to go public?” he asks. the thought’s been plaguing him for a while; this whole ordeal could affect the reputation he’d been trying so hard to build up and he really does not want it to come crashing down because of this. he would like to have a future career.

“probably. i mean, we have reporters tracking our every move because eomma went and blabbed to friends who blabbed to-”

“can’t we just, keep it casual?” jonghyun interrupts before kibum reels off the story again.

“god i hope so, we’ll see how it plays out hopefully i won’t have to go announcing it to the world.”

“yeah i hope,” he says glumly, before perking up when a girl in a dark uniform, apron, and hair pulled back in a loose bun approaches their table.

“are you two ready to order?” she asks, voice light. she has a notepad in hand and he’s sure they’re supposed to order at the counter but the day looks slow for the café, so he smiles.

“oh, you order first. sweetie.” he tacks on the pet name with a sarcastic grin, batting his eyelashes as ridiculously as he can.

kibum nods stiffly. “i’ll just have a chocolate croissant and soy chai latte. what would you like, honey.” kibum grits out the last word like a barely suppressed poison, they’re going to have to practice pet names, a lot.

hopefully the poor girl doesn’t notice the painfully awkward yet aggressive air between the two

“i’ll have the salami and swiss cheese bagel sandwich,” jonghyun says. “and a latte.”

“full cream milk?” she asks.

he nods. coming back up to meet kibum’s gaze with a grin.

“was that all for today?”

“yes that’s everything, thank you,” kibum says, letting out a breath as the girl scurries off.

“pet names,” jonghyun declares, “is something we need to drastically work on.”

/

“how much pda is too much pda?” jonghyun muses, after swallowing a huge bite of bagel sandwich that had given him at least two minutes of chewing time and at least two minutes to contemplate the arrangements of this deal.

“w-what?”

“like, should we be one of those couples that are like glued at the hip and spend all day shooting lovey dovey heart eyes a each other.” the thought of that almost makes him gag. “or do we just hold hands to occasionally to show we don’t hate each other, oh my god does anyone expect us to kiss.” he’s two seconds away from choking on his bagel sandwich.

“i’ve told you before we won’t have to kiss.”

“but what if-”

“if it comes to that, which it won’t, i swear my lips aren’t chapped, they are in fact very kissable.”

“you’re so arrogant,” jonghyun mutters and takes a large bite out of bagel sandwich, it’s disappearing to quickly, he wants another one. he’d successfully gotten kibum to pay for his meal, so he might be pushing his luck if he asks for another. he can’t afford another at all.

“am not! although i think we might have to hold hands.”

“ah, it’s like being in middle school all over again,” jonghyun sighs.

kibum glares. “primary school, with your bratty attitude.”

/

“gonna hold my hand or what,” kibum hisses, after they’d spent all of lunch arguing over what is and is not going to work for their ‘relationship’, and if they should practice anything before kibum’s mother comes barging in.

“or are you too chicken?” he says and that’s it, jonghyun’s going to hold the fuck out of kibum’s hand, fuck him, he’ll make this the best hand hold in history.

he links his fingers in-between kibum’s, subsequently pulling kibum closer, his left arm almost linking around kibum’s right. they’ve got the two dogs in tow in the other hand of course, pulling at their leads restlessly so kibum suggests they walk down the river to burn some of their endless amounts of energy.

kibum’s palms are warm, if not a little sweaty but jonghyun can’t talk, the day is getting hotter and his palms probably aren’t very nice either. he pulls his hand away to wipe on his shorts before gripping kibum’s hand again.

“lovely,” kibum mutters, but he’d done the same thing nonetheless.

there’s a cool breeze along the river to the searing heat of the midday sun, and jonghyun almost finds himself finding the vaguely awkward time he’s spent with kibum actually rather nice.

they’d had moments of weird silences where neither of them knew what to say, until one would break it with some insult about the other’s terrible fake relationship skills, and the conversation would start back up about what necessities that they need to learn about each other.

kibum’s still his boss, and he’s still mean, yet he’d almost forgotten about that aspect, aside from the snippy comments, until kibum brought up the fact that jonghyun’s going to have to bring things from his own apartment to kibum’s.

“am i going to have to relocate all my belongings or-“

“just the essentials,” he says, “things that make it look like you actually live in my place.”

“your place is so bare though. that minimalist aesthetic you’ve got going really crushes the vibes of the place.”

“well you put up some photos or something!” kibum says.

“i don’t have any photos. you put up photos!”

“i’ve got paintings.”

“they’re so drab and depressing though, all black and white... you know polaroids would go well on that wall besides the tv.”

“i don’t have time for that hippie bullshit.”

he glares a hole into the side of kibum’s face, who stares on at the path ahead of them resolutely.

“well i’m bringing a potted plant,” jonghyun huffs finally. “might as well bring some life into your apartment!”

they spend the rest of the walk in a bitter silence and jonghyun wonders how they will survive two weeks.

/

that night jonghyun finds himself curled up in bed for the last night in his apartment, all looking rather bare now that jonghyun’s shoved most of his easily movable belongings into kibum’s apartment, clothing, some books and cd’s, a poster of taeyang, his fluffy blanket, just the usual, before he’s dragged off to kibum’s, and he’s flicking through endless articles about kibum that he swore he would never do, yet gave in to the idea.

the most recent being:

kim kibum spotted out on a ‘date’ with assistant kim jonghyun

he scoffs at that. they’d captured about four good shots of him and kibum, two of them walking his dogs down the bright busy streets of hannam-dong, jonghyun swinging their linked hands between them, and the other two of them tucked away in the corner of the café, the last two obviously taken on a fan phone, judging by the grainy camera quality.

kibum looks good in all of them, all neat and composed, and jonghyun’s mostly stuffing his face with a sandwich.

there’s a couple of other articles similar to that, but none suggesting jonghyun is his date, mostly focused on his street style for the weekend. he’s glad that he’s not the focus of attention for those photos. it’s obvious some of these media outlets are blatantly ignoring the potential of a relationship.

there’s a couple of articles that relate to the day jonghyun had been unwillingly bombarded by reporters; one with a couple of shots of him looking rather frazzled with a nest of bed hair, dark circles painted under his eyes and coffee’s in hand. kibum’s posted in there too, one of his shots from his photo-shoot but this article is only speculation abut rumours of their relationship. well at least he now knows what namjoo was previously yelling about

what the fuck are we doing? he wonders.

he finally resigns himself to sleep with a sigh, lightly chucking his phone onto the blankets somewhere out of sight.

/

it’s at around 2am that there’s a faint buzzing, along with the ‘blip’ of his notifications going off, again, it’s getting rather irritating.

he reaches around for his phone; eyes heavy with sleep, and the brightness almost kills him when he finally does locate his phone. oh does he wish he’d never found it.

most recent

i owe minho 20 if this is real, jonghyunnie please tell me its fake i’ve only got ramyum to eat until next week if it’s not

2:08am

see 10+ more

it’s from jinki, and the other 10+ are notifications blowing up in the group chat, one glance at the message #confirmed, and he’s definitely not touching that one. he blearily flicks through to jinki’s contact typing out some form of question marks and confused emoji’s, he can’t even read words on the screen properly, never mind type coherent sentences.

jinki only responds with the link of an article.

‘speculation around kim kibum by fans on twitter comes true’

well fuck its just talk, he thinks. that is until he goes back to the articles under kibum’s name.

‘kim kibum responds to rumours he is dating his assistant, and it’s not what we expected!’

‘kim kibum’s bold statement:“i don’t like boys but i like jonghyun”

looks like he had gone and officially announced it to the world. great.

he screeches a little. with his mouth closed, mainly just a weird velociraptor sound at the back of his throat, before practically smashing the call button on kibum’s number.

it takes about three rings for him to pick up with his usual, “hello, kim kibum’s phone who am i speaking to…”

“kibum, get off twitter,” he says before kibum can even finish reeling off his introductory sentence and then he’s gone, ending the call with a huff. he’s never awake enough to deal with kibum’s bullshit.

/

sunday rolls around, and slashes his plans of lazily sleeping in till midday with the interruption of kibum’s mother’s arrival. 12:45pm on the dot.

he gets another call early in the morning, around 11 o’clock but it’s early for him, and he grumbles his way to kibum’s apartment. finally bringing the last of his things with him. a big duvet he has to roll into a ball and carry with his pillows, a bag with his toiletries and electronics, all very important.

he must look a right state, hair a mess yet again, and practically swamped in the duvet he has to carry on the bus with him, it’s a surprise to him that he actually manages to make it to kibum’s with no causalities, it had certainly made his journey much more squished on the bus, the muggy heat of the day’s weather not doing him any favors

“you’re late,” kibum says when he opens the door.

“well hello to you too,” jonghyun says, waiting for kibum to step aside so he can give his arms a rest from the huge bundle of blankets.

“carrying all this isn’t exactly easy.” he throws a pout kibum’s way over the pile of blankets when kibum lets him past, neck craned so he can see him. “i missed my first bus.”

“you know i probably could’ve driven you.”

“you say that now,” he groans, dropping the bundle on the sofa. “i didn’t know blankets could get so heavy!”

kibum snickers. “you’re just weak that’s all.”

ouch. he didn’t need that jab at his confidence so early either.

“i do workout you know,” he grumbles, “you could be a much nicer host to someone who’s rather unwilling to be here.”

kibum rolls his eyes at that, and it’s quiet as jonghyun finally settles all his things into place, his bedding and one of kibum’s futons set up on the floor of kibum’s room, so that they can easily pretend they share a bed as kibum’s mother will have the guest room. he can just kick it under kibum’s bed during the day.

his potted plant sits happily on the windowsill above the kitchen sink, he’s got his own books stuffed on the small bookshelf and cd’s under the television cabinet, and other small things he could scatter about the apartment. it certainly looks more lived in, although it’s a jarring clash of jonghyun’s battered items and kibum’s sleek and minimalist appearance.

oh well, it works well enough.

/

kibum pulls him along to the parking garage downstairs; just one stop below ground level on the elevator and it’s still so much fancier than his apartment will ever be. they get a parking garage for fuck’s sake; he gets a run down parking lot down the street. granted he doesn’t actually have a car, but the thought remains there, what if he wants one in the near future? will he be able to live without a parking garage and no fear of having his car stolen or ransacked? he doesn’t think so.

there’s a the mechanical ‘beep beep’ and a flash of orange in the corner of the parking garage, and they both make their way past concrete columns and rows of fancy cars that jonghyun practically drools at, all worth more than he could earn in a lifetime.

“oh please don’t tell me that one’s yours,” jonghyun whines, this is too unfair. he’s had a taste of this kind of life now, and he’s afraid he won’t be able to let it go.

“it is.” kibum even had the nerve to smirk at him.

“a maserati!” he says and resists the urge to run his hand across the metalwork, “this is too unfair.”

“you’re getting drool on my car, come on idiot.”

kibum has to drag him away from just admiring the car and almost shoves him into his seat, but jonghyun at least has the dignity to climb in himself, the leather of the seat soft beneath his fingertips as he holds on to the edges to peer around the interior.

its sleek and stylish and definitely kibum’s taste. he’s not even surprised that kibum also has a good choice in pretty much everything in life, well apart from him choosing his attitude at work but hey, everyone has flaws.

a blast of air condition cools his face when kibum gets the engine running, a welcome relief to the heat that had even made its way to the underground.

kibum only shows off just a tiny but when pulling out, turning the corner before the metal-gated exit with a screech of tires and it makes him laugh.

“show off.” he mumbles, sufficiently jealous.

the ride to the station is tense after that though. jonghyun’s nervous about meeting kibum’s mother and how she’ll react to him, and if he’ll do a good enough job at convincing her of their ‘relationship’ and he feels a bit sick to the stomach.

it’s definitely not car sickness, the ride is too smooth for that and there’s only the purr of the engine beneath his seat, feeling almost as if they’re gliding, and so he can only chalk it up to nervousness.

kibum flicks the radio on about halfway there, the silence too tense for them both apparently.

he drums his fingers on he wheel to the beat, mumbling some of the lyrics to a song jonghyun guesses he hardly knows, maybe heard it once or twice, but enough to pick up the repetitive chorus.

jonghyun only bops his head softly to the beat of it, at least attempting to loosen up a little. he’s not doing all to well though, that odd anxious bubbly feeling in his stomach not dissipating at all.

“calm down, i can practically hear your heartbeat from here,” kibum says softly, “i really am sorry to bring you into this.”

he’s not giving jonghyun any option to opt out, but the apology and kibum’s funny way of having scrunched up eyebrows when he’s apologetic do ease his mind a little.

“lets do this shit,” he says resolutely, only half aware of kibum’s fingers that he had brushed along his sleeve in some form of comforting gesture or another.

/

kibum’s mother is actually quite sweet, unlike her son, and greets them both with a yell of, “kibummie! over here!” to which jonghyun had jabbed at kibum’s side with a snicker of, “kibummie?”

he’d only huffed at that, and then pulled jonghyun along by the edge of his sleeve to greet his mother.

“oh and you must be jonghyun,” she says after letting go of the constricting hug she’s pulled kibum into (the pleading look he shoots to jonghyun goes unnoticed) and her eyes are just like kibum’s, crinkling with a smile. “i’ve heard a lot about you!”

“all good things i hope.” he laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously.

“of course, kibum’s very fond of you.”

well kibum’s certainly playing up this relationship well, and when he glances over to him, kibum can only give him a shrug, a blush of red crawling up his cheeks.

she’s on to the next subject very quickly, always moving on from things quickly and he supposes that kibum does that too.

“well i’m kiyoun! if my brat of a son has ever mentioned me properly,” she says and kibum stutters over an, “of course i have!”

“it’s nice to meet you kiyoun,” he says with a bow, “and i’m well, jonghyun.” he bites his lip when he realizes he’s stumbling over his words.

they complete their introductions with kibum butting in with the suggestion of boba and getting home. successfully drawing attention away from jonghyun, who’d started to feel the awkwardness seep into his bones with every passing second, he supposes he’s not too good with meeting people’s mothers.

“oh this one’s cute!” he hears kiyoun tell kibum when they’re grabbing her luggage to wheel to the boot of kibum’s car. “you should keep him.”

he misses the rest of their conversation of the intercom of the station calling for the departure of the train. but can’t help the upturn of his lips at the sight of kibum, his mean boss, being nagged by his mother when she pulls at the lobe of his ear.

/

he flicks through his phone in the back of kibum’s car, sipping on milk tea and using up all his data, which reminds him to ask kibum for his wi-fi password when they get back to his apartment. kiyoun’s in the front seat much to jonghyun’s insistence.

jonghyun finds that the amount of followers he has on twitter is steadily rising, and jumps once kibum actually mentions him in a post, which he’d done just earlier. jonghyun didn’t even know that kibum had started following him a couple of days ago.

it’s only in relation to people wanting to know his account, and he scowls at the fact that kibum had exposed him like this. he needs some sort of plan to get kibum back, in the most public way possible of course, but he’s going to let it go for a few days, let himself get settled in before he goes and starts plotting against him.

(really he’s just planning on capturing the best embarrassing photo he can get of his photogenic and attractive boss - a feat that’s difficult in itself - and exposing that to the world)

/

they get kiyoun settled in to the guest room with no dramas, her things packed away in the wardrobe, with some still staying in her bags just on the floor at the end of her bed for convenience.

kibum manages to convince her to let him take her out for lunch at one of the cafés, and it’s similar to the way he’d dragged kibum out for lunch yesterday.

“ah it’s good to see you again, kibummie,” she sighs, after a good half an hour of finding the right café (they ended up at the one they’d been at yesterday) and convincing kibum that he should let jonghyun take the two dogs out as well. they’re both far too cute he can’t resist it.

“i call you all the time,” he points out.

“yes but it’s much different to seeing you, look how thin you are! i bet you’ve been overworking yourself again!” she pinches at the skin of his cheeks, and to his complaints she orders larger serving for them all, mainly for him and jonghyun as she declares: “you both have hardly any meat on your bones!”

lunch is much quieter affair after that as they make their way through the stacks of food kiyoun had ordered, indulged in the scents of sweet foods, pastries and the bitter warmth of coffee, despite how much kibum had complained about it being far too much.

he leans into kibum occasionally, testing the waters to see how far they should take it, and kibum takes it surprisingly well, throwing an arm round the top of jonghyun’s chair when he leans back to talk for a while, or letting jonghyun lean into him when he reaches across to take a bite of some of kibum’s chocolate gateau despite how he complained about his germs, which jonghyun only laughs off with a shrug and a poke to the ribs.

his mother adores it, beaming at the two when kibum genuinely laughs about something jonghyun had muttered under his breath. close enough for only kibum to hear that it wasn’t whispered declarations of love but rather jonghyun complaining about how kibum had elbowed him in the stomach by accident, or how he really should be getting a higher pay.

however it looks as if jonghyun adores kibum, really he should be getting an oscar for this, he’s starting to genuinely enjoy it.

/

“goodnight you two!” kiyoun calls from the end of the hall, and after answering back, kibum pushes the door, but doesn’t let it close.

“well i think today went rather well, don’t you, kibummie,” jonghyun says, sat on the edge of kibum’s bed with his legs dangling off the edge, toes stuffed under his own blankets on the floor to keep them warm. he’s got his phone in hand to flick through any of the newest updates.

“shut it,” kibum hisses, grabbing the necessities he needs from the drawers before turning on his heel to go out in the hall towards the bathroom.

“hey there’s a new article about us, a lunch date with me getting to meet your mother,” he calls after him. “it’s sweet really!”

there’s a soft slam of the bathroom door somewhere down the hall.

kibum emerges some time later, rubbing at damp hair with a fluffy towel and it’s his turn to use the bathroom. he brushes his teeth and splashes his face with a wash of cold water. kibum had showered earlier and it left the mirror foggy and the tiles with cold droplets of water beneath his feet.

“one day down,” he tells his grim reflection with a sigh, the bags under his eyes from a constantly interrupted sleep evident. “thirteen to go.”

/

“do you actually have any friends?” he asks into the darkness, his duvet pulled up to his chin to combat to cold that emanates from the wooden floorboards beneath his futon. kibum’s definitely got his air conditioning dialed to the negatives or something.

“yeah, you just haven’t fucking met them,” kibum mumbles defensively from where his face is stuffed into his pillow.

“i just though you didn’t,” he says simply.

“oh and you do?” kibum asks, rolling over with only the rustle of bed sheets to give evidence to that. “you only ever sleep and go to work.”

“well so do you.”

“touché”

jonghyun is left to think for a few minutes. “so are you sure you do, because no one could afford a maserati or apartment this nice without cutting a few ties.”

“jonghyun be quiet,” kibum groans, and before jonghyun can even open his mouth again he’s hit with a hard lump of downy pillow.

/

it’s a surprise to jonghyun how quickly he falls into routine with kibum. monday consisting of the usual slapping at the snooze button once or twice, until he’s rolling out of bed onto the hardwood floor with a groan. the cold ground isn’t a usual part of his routine but he guesses it’s something he’ll adjust to.

he kicks his makeshift bed under kibum’s, and after a moment of contemplation, he thinks fuck it and then slaps him from his light doze with a pillow to the face, much like kibum had done to him yesterday night.

they brush their teeth together, grumbling and elbowing each other in front of a sink designed for only one person, kibum grins at his reflection to check for any imperfections after he spits out the foam. some still at the corners of his mouth and lower lip, still unfairly hot in the mirror even with foam on his lips, messy bed head and eyes puffy with sleep.

jonghyun’s got to remind himself that this is his boss, and those thoughts about his boss are generally not accepted, despite the fact that he is his ‘boyfriend’.

jonghyun hangs around in the bathroom as kibum completes his extensive beauty routine, leaning against the counter to scroll through his phone, squinting at the brightness of the screen despite it being at it’s lowest setting. kibum pats moisturizer into his face and smears some extra across jonghyun’s cheek.

“you need it” he says at the scandalized look slapped onto jonghyun’s face.

/

over breakfast, jonghyun notices the surprising lack of food in kibum’s cupboards and hisses a, “do you even eat?”

“i don’t usually have a lot of time to cook, i just buy meals when i’m out.”

well that explains how kibum stays so skinny, small meals on the go probably leave him hungry often, and he also wonders if kibum has any time to work out, if what’s under his clothes is not just soft edges and bony elbows but lithe muscles, and jonghyun’s got to stop that train of thought in it’s tracks.

they both munch on stale toast for breakfast, and gulp down scalding hot cups of coffee, still standing around in their sweats and baggy t-shirts, waiting for the other to make the decision to actually get changed into more formal clothes for work, both reluctant to make the first move.

they make quiet conversation over their meager breakfast, kibum hissing about how jonghyun should act and jonghyun glaring more than talking, with only the occasional snippy comment.

pretty similar to how they act at work really, kibum nit-picking everything and jonghyun more often than not provoking him with small snide comments. he means well really.

kiyoun emerges sometime in the hazy hour it takes for jonghyun to get his shit together and stop staring out the window, elbows resting on the kitchen bench, as the minutes quickly tick by. monday’s have him by their cold grip, he’s practically fantasizing about crawling back into bed even if it is that uncomfortable futon. he’ll take the cold floor and a blanket if it means five more minutes.

/

work is the usual, a boring monotony as he shuffles back and forth across the departments, organizing kibum’s shit, parroting information back and forth between floors, and grumbling about the crick in his neck from sleeping oddly, he decides that one is kibum’s fault, somehow.

however what breaks this usual monotony is one of the staff dragging kibum off down the hall, and subsequently, him as well.

“you know i distinctly remember you once saying this will all blow over,” jonghyun hisses to kibum, wincing at the white backdrop with the glare of all the studio lights. the absolute last thing he had expected when he followed kibum down the hall was to be shoved into the camera studios, and definitely not to actually be in front of them.

the staff member that jonghyun quickly learns is named jongdae, had shoved him into a changing cubicle in one of the rooms connected to the main studio, much to his protests he’d only had a wad of clothing thrown at him.

kibum had only resolutely bowed his head and accepted his fate; jonghyun had gone down kicking.

as it turns out, taemin had proposed to jinki, who’s proposed to chanyeol the director, who’d gone and brought it up with jongdae who’s in charge of the photo-shoots for their magazine, that the two of them had not only brought up their ratings on social media, but their ratings for the magazine as well.

their sales had spiked since the latest issue, and once the speculation had been confirmed it had only gone up.

“you two will be on the next issue at this rate,” minho - who jonghyun didn’t think had a resolute purpose being around the office but often hung around when there was coffee - had said when jonghyun had crept out of the change rooms, seething after having been forced into impossibly tight black jeans and a white mesh shirt that hung low on his chest.

kibum wears something similar, however his outfit is entirely black and his hair mussed up, he looks entirely too hot, but still stands sheepishly near the door, clutching his bare arms from the cool of the room.

it’s a rather uncomfortable situation really, and after make-up, jongdae urges them to sit on the studio floor, in amongst the harsh white, and to pose as best they can.

“kibum’s already converted our sweet, sweet jonghyunie,” taemin sighs dramatically to jinki when kibum’s got his arms wrapped softly around the skin of jonghyun’s shoulders. he’d sat through an hour of makeup and costume and he’s already feeling like some sort of idol, even if his cake face of makeup is melting under the harsh heat of the studio lights.

“converted to what?” jonghyun calls skeptically when the photographer jongdae, shouts for the pair of them to move, for jonghyun to tilt his head just the little bit more, for kibum to look into the camera, for jonghyun to avert his gaze. he feels awkward under the judgment of those around him, like he’s laid out bare for the world to judge.

“a life of sin, evil, despair, ruin-“ jinki claps a hand over taemin’s mouth at kibum’s glare, he’s still their boss after all.

he’s only posing with kibum, but it feels a multitude dirtier when kibum keeps sending those dark looks to the camera and clings lightly to jonghyun, his ‘boyfriend’s most definitely an attention whore.

/

he’s never going to admit it but jonghyun adores the feeling of kibum clinging to him, trailing a hand softly across his skin or through his hair, all under the photographer jongdae’s guidance of course but jonghyun thinks’ kibum might have just taken it that bit further than he needed to, a closeness that something neither of them would have done if not for the camera and the shouting.

/

“that went well,” jonghyun says, grumbling through the process of finally being able to peel off the skin-tight jeans, his thighs and crotch completely and utterly stinging after hours of endless compression.

“my feet are gone,” kibum bemoans, rubbing feeling back into his toes. he’d been forced to sit on them for a good half an hour and jonghyun feels his pain.

“why did we even need to do that, aren’t they happy with a few candid shots of café dates or something.”

“publicity, i guess.” kibum shrugs. “sorry you had to sit through that.”

well at least kibum’s sorry for dragging him into this mess; he doesn’t look all too sincere though, maybe rather proud.

/

jonghyun stays unaware that kibum gave the okay for a photo-shoot, it had to be run by him of course, it wasn’t something that was just completely out of the blue. however jonghyun simply doesn’t have to know that little detail.

/

that evening jonghyun’s yet again slapped with never ending surprises, it’s a wonder he hasn’t got whiplash yet.

“now kiss your boyfriend goodbye and get going!” kiyoun had snapped at them, and it had been light-hearted of course, but with a sinking sense of horror, they realised that she expects them to actually kiss.

kibum had a meeting at six and jonghyun did not. he wasn’t even expected to attend.

and that left jonghyun stuck at kibum’s home for an hour or so, with no kibum and only kiyoun’s company. it also meant that because of the time in-between the end of work and the meeting, they’d both gone back.

what they hadn’t anticipated was this.

“i… um-“

jonghyun can’t even finish his stuttering before kibum’s trails a hand along the back of his neck, just at his hairline, and pulls him in quick with a determined look in his eye.

the press of kibum’s lips are soft and warm, and that’s all he gets before he breaks away. jonghyun had stood stock still, hands out just hovering by kibum’s hips with no thought of what to do.

“you said we wouldn’t have to kiss,” jonghyun whispers lowly; just quiet enough so kiyoun won’t hear. “fucking liar.”

“i was wrong… see you jjong,” kibum presses the last sentence sweetly, and then he’s gone, leaving jonghyun of only the memory of upturned crescent shaped lips and crinkled eyes.

/

he doesn’t know what he expected, sitting alone with kibum’s mother. but it’s quiet. she’s a dedicated old woman, skin still taut and clear even with her vast years of life. she’s aged gracefully, jonghyun admires.

she remains in the lounge, sipping on a glass of tea with deep consideration in her eyes as she browses the selection of magazines on the table. a fashion expert like her son, kiyoun seems to enjoy looking at haute couture just as much as every high-up in shinee magazine. jonghyun still has no idea if it’s pronounced hoort or haaut.

he staggers into the kitchen, nervous, for the first time. he doesn’t know what kibum’s told kiyoun about their relationship; doesn’t know what to say at all. he awkwardly goes about making himself a cup of tea, expression blank as the woman studiously reads.

“when’s kibummie back?” she asks, after a bit, still reading her magazine. jonghyun swallows, and looks up to answer her as politely as possible, not wanting to stuff this all up.

make it believable, he thinks. don’t fuck it up.

“uh - a few hours. he’s up late at meetings all the time.” he knows it’s a fact, sometimes coming into work to see kibum slumped over his desk - not gotten any sleep at all.

kiyoun nods sagely, looking up for the first time. her eyes assess jonghyun studiously.

“he works hard.” she sighs. “come sit,” she says then, and jonghyun can only obey, weakly carrying his cup of tea with him to settle on the other end of the couch.

“now, kibum said not to scare you with threats, so i certainly won’t,” she smiles, but jonghyun can see the sharpness underneath. she’s a smart, rich daegu woman, and he can certainly see it.

“but he’s my son, and even though he’s been fond of you for a long time now, i just want to make sure you’re both happy.”

this is where it gets hard; because jonghyun struggles separating truth from falsity and the idea that kibum has even been convincing enough to pass off fondness is ridiculous. he nods, despite everything, keeping their facade up.

“happy.” the word tastes like ash. “we are. we’re happy.”

a tiny, quiet part of him wishes this was real and that was true.

/

kibum returns later with takeout, and jonghyun greets him with the slightest peck on the cheek. almost shy, and vaguely unsure if jonghyun’s being honest and he tells himself it’s because kiyoun’s hovering nearby, and not because the surprised flush of kibum’s cheeks had been the best (and cutest) thing he’d witnessed all evening.

/

jonghyun only sinks ever deeper into a quick routine, one that comes with free access to kibum’s expensive coffee, and the ability to try and look as comfortable as possible around him whenever kiyoun is around, trying to dissipate the awkward air that occasionally got caught between them whenever one realized they were just colleagues.

“you’re awkward you know,” kibum tells jonghyun at lunchtime, when kibum sits at his desk to eat some form of salad and jonghyun lazes about munching on a vending machine chips. they would have gone out for lunch had it not been bucketing down rain, the rivulets of it running down kibum’s office windows darkening the room.

“i’m not awkward. you’re the awkward one.”

kibum’s phone chimes with an update from kiyoun, she’d gone out for the day with a friend, so it had been no worry to them about having to cancel lunch plans, however jonghyun learns from kibum that she’d be late back because of the weather. honestly it comes as a surprise to jonghyun just how many people kiyoun actually knows, how she can always be so busy, but he supposes it’s the advantages of being such an influential figure.

he gets the feeling kiyoun’s just enjoying butting into her son’s life. he’s awfully privy about small matters and staying in his apartment rather than a hotel seems to get under kibum’s skin. jonghyun doesn’t miss the smirk she gives over her morning coffee at a frazzled kibum most mornings.

jonghyun also finds himself in an odd sort of competition about who’s actually more awkward. kibum’s competitive, and yet so is jonghyun and those two things don’t particularly mesh all that well together when jonghyun’s touchy about his relationship skills (which have been rather lacking in these recent years if he’s being honest with himself) and kibum has soggy bits of crouton from his sad salad, aimed and ready to fire at jonghyun’s face.

“well you suck at kissing!” jonghyun had argued, he needed some sort of metaphorical dirt to throw in kibum’s face.

“you suck at kissing back!” ouch, harsh.

they come to the conclusion when jonghyun’s got a crouton stuck down his shirt and kibum’s butt hurt about being called an awful kisser that they both really need to work on trying to at least put on a convincing relationship front, even namjoo’s skeptical and she laps this kind of stuff up.

jonghyun thinks it’s almost a promise of later.

/

nothing actually happens, and jonghyun didn’t know if he actually expected anything to.

the only thing worth noting is kiyoun almost barging in on jonghyun sleeping on the floor and thank fuck she’d had the sense to knock. instead jonghyun had been ripped from his morning in-between alarms doze at the instant knocking about kibum’s lack of pancake making ingredients.

he’d practically vaulted into kibum’s bed, kicking up the futon in the process (very successfully, he admires his own reflexes) and shocking kibum out of his dead sleep. he’d slept through the first alarm and kiyoun’s knocking, jonghyun’s amazed that squashing him actually woke him up.

“act natural,” jonghyun hisses as he climbs under the covers, still warm from where kibum had curled up and as he settles on his back he pulls a bleary and confused kibum’s arm across his stomach, letting him settle into his side as best as he can as kibum’s fingers almost tickle at his hip.

“what the fuck,” kibum says, half pressed into jonghyun’s chest so his words are squashed and mumbled.

“it’s your mum,” jonghyun whispers.

kibum lets out some sort of weird snuffled grunt, and then calls out, “it’s okay to come in we’re decent.”

kiyoun peeks here head through the door at that, taking in the sight of a barely awake kibum curled up into a flustered jonghyun who tries to avoid eye contact with her, and instead focus on kibum.

his heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of his chest at this rate, it had been too close, and would have been way to awkward of a situation to explain.

/

jonghyun later overhears kiyoun lecturing a defensive kibum.

“eomma i’m twenty-six not sixteen!”

“i’m just making sure you’re safe!”

it doesn’t take a genius to work out what kiyoun had been lecturing him about, and she hadn’t before but he thinks that seeing the pair of them actually in a bed, next to each other, might have kick started the protective mother instincts.

“i am safe - stop butting into these things it’s weird.”

he’d heard kiyoun laugh at that, soft and quiet and he’d left overhearing their conversation behind.

/

every day after that, jonghyun and kibum find themselves sharing the same bed. after jonghyun’s protests and kibum’s ability to be convincing by preparing logical arguments he really doesn’t want to hear.

“it’s easier, and convincing.” kibum manages, stiffly testing the waters and parameters of this pseudo-friend relationship. jonghyun doesn’t think he’s comfortable sharing a bed with his boss at all, mainly toward the inkling little bits of attraction jonghyun has toward him.

his boss. his fake boyfriend boss.

“anyway, my bed’s far more comfortable then a futon on the floor.” he has a point, jonghyun allows. so, when night hits that day, majority of it spent bitching and arguing quietly in-between whatever the pair find to fill their day, jonghyun slides into bed beside kibum and can’t stop the wild thrum in his chest. Cyclone Feelings, his mind supplies, because the storm has a name and it’s beginning to creep and cling onto jonghyun whenever kibum is nearby.

kibum reads for half an hour before he sleeps, jonghyun discovers. before, when he’d been on the floor, it was easy to ignore the tiny way kibum does things. ignore little intimate details that jonghyun would never be able to forget.

but now he can’t. he looks at the way kibum curls his fingers around his book - some poetry book. moon insoo, the cover reads. he can’t see the title. kibum reads with thin wired chanel glasses, like everything in his house - haute couture.

when kibum’s finished, and jonghyun puts his phone away, ignoring jabs at him from the group chat and re-tweets from twitter, kibum rubs his eyes and yawns. he lays down, back turned to jonghyun and makes a soft noise of contentment. sleepy kibum, he decides, is his favourite kibum.

“good night,” kibum yawns, and jonghyun feels the distance thick between them.

“sleep well.” he answers, hoarse, long after kibum has fallen asleep.

/

kibum kisses him in the morning, the minty taste of his – well their – toothpaste on his lips invading jonghyun’s senses. it’s a chaste kiss, but a kiss nonetheless. the thought that kibum didn’t break his promise of later tugs softly at the back of jonghyun’s mind.

“now who sucks at this more huh?” kibum mumbles against his lips, before pulling away with a composed little smile. it pisses jonghyun off.

and then he’s grabbing kibum by the collar of his fucking silk pajama’s - probably expensive he shouldn’t even be touching them - but he goes against all inhibitions and fists his fingers into the material, dragging kibum down to his height yet again.

he’s not that short, he’s just sitting down.

“not me that’s for sure.” jonghyun jerks kibum forward abruptly so he’s forced to plant his hands on jonghyun’s thighs, and then jonghyun’s leaning up to close the slightest gap, hardly a centimeter, meeting the warm press of his lips in an open mouthed kiss.

after being startled into the next fucking dimension, kibum’s shock eventually melts out, enough so that he even begins to kiss back, his lips pliant under jonghyun’s own.

the grip on jonghyun’s thighs tightens when he licks along the pretty curve of kibum’s upper lip, teasing the man is now hitting number one of jonghyun’s favourite list of things to do.

he relaxes his grip on kibum’s shirt, choosing instead to trail his hands down the edges of kibum’s frame, relishing in the delightful gasp kibum releases into his mouth when he hooks his thumbs into the elastic of his pajama pants.

Tired of kibum’s awkward position - it’s hurting jonghyun’s neck – he tugs him forward until they’re both forced to relocate, jonghyun’s persistence means kibum’s legs are situated either side of his thighs, seated in his lap so its now much comfier and much much easier to map out kibum with his mouth and hands.

there’s a comforting weight pressing into jonghyun’s shoulders, kibum’s arms he supposes and he cracks his eyes open again to meet kibum’s half lidded ones. there’s a definite spark of competition in those dark eyes when they meet.

it’s winners or losers in this game their playing, however with the unsteady thrum in jonghyun’s veins and the heat pooling in his stomach he’s unsure if it’s a competition in a sense that the outcome is beneficial to them both.

kibum grinds down on his crotch, loose silk against the material of his boxers and holy shit kibum’s not wearing any underwear. granted jonghyun’s only in underwear and a t-shirt himself however it’s the schematics of the situation. jonghyun can feel every hard outline of kibum, literal and figurative, and honestly he doesn’t want to stop the delicate way kibum rolls his hips.

this is dangerous territory they’re treading in to. it’s no longer light kisses and teasing remarks, their edge for competition meaning they’d fallen into unsteady waters far to quickly.

they break apart for air, a string of saliva dangling between their lips that jonghyun snorts at. kibum only twines his fingers into the back of jonghyun’s hair and tugs, hard.

retaliation for jonghyun’s manhandling earlier and he cant help the gasp that escapes his lips when kibum keeps his hand roughly fisted in his hair, not letting go.

kibum grins wickedly at him, lips bruised and cheeks flushed. “have i won yet?”

jonghyun’s torn between punching or kissing that stupid grin off of kibum’s face, when there’s a sharp knock at their door.

“if you boy’s aren’t already late i’m going out for breakfast, want to tag along?”

that pretty flush drains from kibum’s face, and in that moment jonghyun sees the evident switch from kibum to Kim Kibum, his fucking boss and it both seems to click in their minds when kibum practically launches himself from jonghyun’s lap, scrambling to compose his life as jonghyun’s left sitting and shocked.

“i’m just uh, practice was good yeah uh, convincing. i’m gonna get some breakfast.” he rubs a hand at the back of his neck before bolting, well bolting in an oddly kim kibum fashion as he walks precariously

practice, he tells himself. the world swirling round in his head as he’s left with the ghost touches of kibum’s lips and weight of his body.

“i’ll just stay and have toast,” jonghyun says to an empty room, long after kibum’s left.

/

jinki is it possible to have a midlife crisis at like 26 ??

7:03am

quarter life

7:03am

i dont plan on living that long

7:04am

/

days pass like blurry movies. sleep, work a little, sleep, drink tea, walk dogs, argue with kibum, pretend to kiss. sleep. jonghyun falls into the little things, like the way kibum watches movies, or the way he reads. he watches a week fly past his eyes, without even realizing it.

he’s spent an entire week with his boss - fake dating and fake kissing and fake dates and jonghyun doesn’t know from what is merging into that fine barrier between real and fake anymore.

he can’t believe how quickly it goes. most of all, he can’t believe how much he enjoys it, holding hands with kibum when they walk together, or every cute little intimate habit he picks on.

oh no, jonghyun thinks, when he starts to fall. he’s standing at the edge. Cyclone Feelings waits with patience, to blow him over.

/

it storms one night, an angry cloud bearing over the han with little forgiveness. jonghyun can see the rain against the window. he wakes when a flash of thunder echoes through the bedroom, and blinks sleep away.

storms are loud and pissy, he decides, and gets up to go to the toilet. when he comes back, he’s prepared to fall asleep again on the tiny futon beside kibum’s bed, but stands in the doorway when he sees kibum’s duvet drawn up around him.

he’s awake, jonghyun realizes. kibum lets out a little whimper when a flash of lightening crashes across the room, thunder following shortly afterward.

“kibum?” he asks, the darkness, and kibum whines. he’s scared, scared, jonghyun realizes. his fearless fashion boss is scared of thunderstorms.

“jonghyun? g-go back to bed.” kibum says, voice trembling, like jonghyun didn’t just hear him whine. in fear.

“kibum, it’s just a thunderstorm.” he tries, attempting something like caring. only he’s horrible at that, and kibum makes an awful sound.

“shut up.” kibum whines, as more thunder cracks and breaks, the heavy sound deafening. jonghyun purses his lips and wanders toward the blinds, closing the curtains and windows tightly. crybaby, he thinks, trying to link this mess to his fearless boss.

“kibum,” jonghyun ventures. “do you want me to sleep with you?” he asks, quietly. purely friendly, the request is. to make sure he feels as safe as possible, jonghyun convinces himself.

kibum pulls the duvet up a little, and jonghyun can see him shaking. he nods, once, then pulls the covers back over. embarrassed.

“you can’t tell anybody about this.” kibum says, shifting a little to give jonghyun plenty of room.

“pay rise.” jonghyun sings, shuffling across the sheets. kibum trembles on his side of the bed, and it’s furiously distracting.

“of course,” kibum says, obligatorily sighing. his attitude drops when more lightening hits, and he scrambles for jonghyun, clinging onto his shoulders and burying his head.

“not a word,” kibum whines into his skin, “to anyone.”

jonghyun rubs a soothing hand down his bosses back, telling himself that the money is worth it. this will all be worth it.

/

the week passes like that - slow, and blissful and jonghyun hates how much it feels like home; coming home to kibum, lying around reading articles about fashion stuff with kibum, making tea for kibum, eating around seoul with kibum. it feels normal - and he hates that he loves it.

/

halfway through the week - a slow wednesday morning that seems to drag on forever as a bleary jonghyun munches on a slice of buttered toast, and kibum waddles around with a thick duvet - does kibum’s mother announce that she’s staying another half a week.

jonghyun almost chokes on his toast, thumping his chest to help swallow it down before kibum starts performing some sort of heimlich maneuver.

“only until next wednesday of course!” she explains, while puttering around the kitchen for tea, “i’ve still got to get back before your father accidentally burns the house down, so i’m staying for a week from today.”

that’s only a couple of extra days; jonghyun can probably live with that.

“but why,” kibum whines.

“kibummie you’re far too thin,” she says, pinching at the skin on his waist. “i don’t think there’s a drop of fat on you! you’re not taking enough care of yourself, you have to eat real food!”

at jonghyun’s snickers she adds on, “and you too son-in-law, no one can like stale toast that much.”

“i can look after myself perfectly fine, besides jonghyun’s here as well, he knows things about food.”

“no he doesn’t,” kiyeon sighs. “you two are both equally helpless.”

she makes a fair point there, kibum’s pantry is pretty bare, and it’s been stale toast for days now. jonghyun doesn’t even know if he’s seen kibum ever eat breakfast apart from a cup of overly sweet coffee.

they’d only just been scraping by at convincing kiyoun that they are both functioning adults by just dragging her out to eat at local restaurants and cafes. jonghyun thinks that she caught a glimpse of the cobwebs instead of food in kibum’s pantry and decided to put her foot down.

“now you two get to work, and no more days off. kibum i can’t have your company falling to ruins over me inconveniencing you for these two weeks.”

almost three now, fucking hell.

“but what are you going to do all day?!”

“i’m not some helpless old woman you know, seoul’s a big place i have friends here, things to do, people to see. now both of you scurry along and if i don’t see a pantry full of groceries by the time i’m back tonight, i’ll disconnect the internet,”

“do you think she’d really?” jonghyun whispers to kibum, already getting up to go. not the wifi - anything, but the wifi. kiyoun is certainly a smart woman.

“i don’t know, but i really don’t want to stick around to find out…”

jonghyun and kibum both settle for scampering out the room, a race of who can escape the quickest ending with jonghyun banging his head on one of the shelves near the doorway, grumbling about it and the shiny bruise he’d be sporting while kibum only had the nerve to break down with laughter on the hallway floor, mocking a mopey jonghyun.

/

after work, the two of them make a stop at one of the grocery stores nearby, closer to their workplace than home (kibum’s home jonghyun has to constantly remind himself) and it leads to probably the biggest food shop either of them had ever done in their lives.

they take turns in pushing the trolley around after arguing over who deserves to more, and jonghyun spends his time when it’s not his turn, sneaking miscellaneous food objects that kibum had said no to into the trolley when he has his head turned.

“kibummie, this two kilogram can of corn is two dollars more than a 500 gram can of corn but is on special for half price. which one huh?”

“you sound like a math text book, i don’t know.”

“two kilogram can of corn it is.”

jonghyun gets to push the trolley after wandering down two aisles, and is determined to get to the end of the aisle without putting his feet on the ground; he gets a good running start and pulls his weight up on to his arms so the trolley can roll along itself.

sadly he doesn’t make it to the end of the aisle, only up until the flour section, but successfully does not run into any of the aisles or bring any shelves collapsing on him, much to kibum’s relief.

“don’t run anyone over!” kibum hollers from the other end of the aisle.

he’s still determined to make it further than he did last time.

/

“do we really need bean paste?” kibum asks, when their items are being scanned through.

“yes it’s very important.”

“and radish wrap?”

“you never know when it might come in handy.”

a few other items are scanned through, pasta, sauces, a chocolate bar.

“jonghyun when the fuck are we ever going to use sesame leaves?”

“i’ll find a use for them.”

if he’s being honest, he’s having more fun seeing the blood slowly leave kibum’s face, pale as he sees items jonghyun had snuck in to the trolley.

“okay no, we don’t need three boxes of toaster waffles!” kibum grabs two of them from the pile.

“i’m sorry,” he tells the poor woman scanning their items, her nametag reads soojin, and she just waves them off with a laugh.

“i can put those back, hand them here.” she stacks the boxes on metal platform besides her. “you two having people around?”

jonghyun snickers at the exasperated look on kibum’s face.

“oh, no not at all!” he supplies for him, “just stocking up on this weeks groceries.”

“it’s more like a years worth,” kibum mutters under his breath, and jonghyun shoots him a look.

“thank you,” kibum says, face flushed with embarrassment at the amount of items, once soojin finally finishes ringing up the rest of their food. jonghyun had steadily been placing the full plastic bags into the trolley and he dibs it to push it back to the car. kibum only pays for the rather large receipt, with a wince, already dreading to see how much of a dent it had put in his pay check.

/

“kiss for the cameras!” minho calls when jonghyun and kibum are in the studio yet again. they weren’t actually there for a photo-shoot (thank fuck, once was enough for a lifetime for him) but rather for kibum to oversee one of the model shoots.

jonghyun’s only there for convenience, coffee mainly.

“i don’t like that one,” kibum snaps, thankfully not at the model but at the outfit itself, and ugly two-piece set. jonghyun thinks it’s ugly as well, at least kibum called it out.

“you can’t just slap shit together and call it fashion, this isn’t even cohesive with the rest of the line.” the designer’s in fucking trouble now, jonghyun can see the anger and faint disappointment just in the slightest crease between his brows.

sure enough the designer had been called in, a short man with red hair and even redder cheeks once kibum was through with chewing him out about the importance of how disgustingly awful polyester looks with the collection.

and so it comes back to jonghyun and kibum in the studio under the hot lights, and with minho pestering them. jonghyun’s got a headset on that he’d stolen it from one of jongdae’s camera friends, it makes him feel much more important, and kibum’s given up on hassling the model line in favor of guzzling the coffee jonghyun had brought him earlier. it’s probably lukewarm by now, but kibum still drinks it.

it’s unsurprising really that jongdae snaps a few photos of them, and he has no idea what they’re actually planning to do with those photos.

/

“it’s obligatory drinks night,” kibum says with a sigh just before they both clock off.

“obligatory drinks night?”

“me and my friends i do actually have, go out for drinks every few weeks. tonight is one of those nights and they want you to come along.”

“why me?”

“they’ve heard about you through gossip, or those trashy tabloids, or both, and i suppose they want to meet you.” he shrugs. “i can just say you’re sick or something.”

he mulls it over for a moment. on one-hand drinks after a week like this he feels he deserves, but on the other it’s a night out with kibum and he isn’t sure how he’d react to that after the rollercoaster of a two weeks it’s been.

“i’ll come along,” he says finally, “i suppose it would be nice to see these ‘friends’.” throwing up finger quotes around friends just for added effect, and kibum elbows him in the side.

“fine, don’t blame me if they drag you down with them though,” he says and powers off towards the elevator.

“hey what’s that supposed to mean?!”

but kibum’s already purposefully ignoring him, but can’t hide the smile that plays upon his lips as he turns back to the elevator buttons.

/

kibum’s friends, as it turns out, are actually rather normal.

well as normal as one in the fashion industry can get. the two of them had both rocked up to a dingy club, the complete opposite of what jonghyun had been expecting. no lavish ballrooms or elegant clothing, but instead torn jeans and ‘artistically’ ripped t-shirts, no buffets but instead cheap alcohol and cigarette smoke to fill the atmosphere and jonghyun finds he likes this side of kibum more.

“so who’s this,” one of kibum’s friends says once they’re seated in a booth, tucked away from the world under the dark.

“idiot, you know,” kibum says and they do, several of them had sent the pair knowing looks when they’d made their way inside.

one with black hair shoved haphazardly under a cap waves his hands around. “well properly introduce him then.” he has a thick accent jonghyun notices,

“i’m uh-jonghyun,” he says for himself, lifting a hand in greeting. he’s regarded by the group under a cautious eye, until one of them, who’s just shorter than him, stands and greets jonghyun with a smile.

“i’m woohyun,” he says and leans across the table to smack kibum’s shoulder lightly, “and kibum’s told me a lot about you, a shame i had to hear through the tabloids.”

there’s almost an underlying sense of bitterness to his tone, and jonghyun feels the urge to drop his gaze when woohyun surveys him.

“the rest of these assholes are pretty alright.” he points to the one with dark hair and a cap. “that’s zitao.” at least now jonghyun knows the accent’s definitely chinese.

“sehun.” dark haired and ugly-cute, hanging off of zitao.

“myungsoo.” soft eyes, warm cheeks.

“and sunggyu,” ugly.

and so jonghyun is officially introduced into the group with a, “and i’m sure you’re already very familiar with kibum.” the man in question only goes to smack at woohyun, failing miserably under the efforts of the table between them.

“well that was all fun but can we at least get some drinks before i die of thirst,” says sehun.

those closest to the edges of the booth are nominated, zitao and kibum, and although jonghyun relaxes at the thought of not being sandwiched between kibum and sunggyu, he also realises that he’s going to be left alone with the group.

“so you’re jonghyun.” woohyun pipes up once the two have left to get their drinks.

“uh, yes…”

“mm i don’t know you-“ he starts off, ”but, well don’t hurt kibummie okay i know you two only just started dating but he falls quick and if you mess with him you mess with me.” woohyun’s quite intimidating, jonghyun finds.

“i, um, okay i won’t,” jonghyun finally stutters out under the expectant glare of woohyun.

“woohyun, don’t be an ass you’re scaring the poor guy,” myungsoo interrupts.

“telling it how it is,” woohyun says.

he almost lets out a cry of relief once he sees kibum and zitao making their way back over, drinks clutched carefully in their hands as they navigate carefully through the crowd, and he has to reluctantly nudge a quiet sunggyu to the side to accommodate for kibum squishing them back in.

kibum even throws an arm around his shoulders, whispering a quiet “just for good measure,” in his ear once they all have their drinks.

jonghyun sips idly on a glass of pimms and lemonade, watching kibum’s group of friends interact so comfortably with each other even with jonghyun wedging his way right in-between.

he notices that sehun tends to stick closest to zitao, like he does to kibum, and that sunggyu and myungsoo, although almost quiet compared to the recklessness of kibum and woohyun combined, still find their time to interact with the rest of them.

woohyun, who jonghyun finds he doesn’t like much, has challenged him to a round of shots.

his college life came down to this, he knows shots is going to fuck him up, he’s had years worth of knowledge, wisdom to pass down to those unaware. and yet with woohyun’s smirking face jonghyun can’t resist to smash him to the dirt.

(he’s being overdramatic and he knows this, but the edge of tipsy for him, often means particularly bad decisions)

“see jonghyun’s cute,” kibum says proudly to no one in particular after one to many drinks, when jonghyun does nothing in particular –except for fucking wrecking woohyun, he won, he earned his title- but he’s to busy giggling into the crook of kibum’s neck to tell him to tone it down on the heartfelt interactions.

sunggyu climbs over them at one point, abandoning the booth in favour of dancing, and overtime the rest of them filter out, jonghyun thinks he sees zitao mouthing dirtily at sehun’s neck in-between the flashes of light and the crowd, alcohol in hand as they move to the beat, but he tries not to look.

“come on kibummie, aren’t you going to dance?” woohyun says, almost dragging kibum out of the booth who in turn drags a whining jonghyun along as well, somehow feeling that flare of jealousy at the way kibum and woohyun interact. Cyclone Feelings starts to swell up and pick up wind, carrying jonghyun to kibum.

he has to bite back the unusual sting in his chest and stuttered breath when he hears the nickname from someone who’s probably already so close to kibum, and suddenly he feels like an imposter.

he sees kibum spot his other friends on the floor, and with jonghyun in tow he follows woohyun along to dance. jonghyun doesn’t even like dancing that much.

he realizes, through the hands on his hips and slosh of alcohol in his hand, that this is kibum’s friendship group, not one of his own. it’s kibum’s life he’s imposing on (what he assumes is woohyun’s crush he’s taking) and although he realizes he’s been asked - practically forced - to make his way into kibum’s life, he thinks that maybe when it’s over, he might just miss it.

kibum laughs when jonghyun stumbles a little, feeling all the wavy at the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream, the sour on his tongue and the heat and almost sticky warmth of the club around him. suddenly everything around him just feels all too loud when kibum’s soft hair courses against his cheek and his nose presses into the sensitive skin of his neck.

all he knows is that kibum has to bend down to be able to rest over jonghyun, lavishly throwing his arms across his shoulders just for extra measure, and when he finally lifts his head up after an excruciating few seconds that were nothing to everyone else, jonghyun can only see the soft light of him reflected in glassy eyes.

the moment’s broken when someone knocks into jonghyun, and his drink sloshes onto kibum’s shirt, probably designer, and most definitely expensive and all jonghyun can do is try to pat him down hopelessly in an attempt to fix it.

“fuck sorry, sorry!” he says, splaying his palm out against kibum’s now damp chest and all he’s achieved is just feeling up kibum’s rather toned chest, it’s nice, very firm, he wants to keep his hand there.

and so he does until kibum softly grabs his wrist.

“babe it’s okay,” kibum reassures and babe. jonghyun’s already on the verge of passing out he’s wobbly enough; kibum really doesn’t need to be adding fuel to the fire like this.

“i think,” he declares, “that i am more drunk than i was earlier.”

“yes you are.”

jonghyun squints at him, the flashes of the club lights are too bright.

“so are you, i mean, babe?” how dare he do this when he’s already so weak.

it’s another few passing seconds, and kibum won’t fucking look away, that jonghyun decides he needs air, or another drink, or a smoke, whatever works.

“i need a smoke,” he says finally.

“jjong you don’t smoke.”

“shush, i know.” he says “it’ll be a new habit, gotta stand outside and not look like a loser.”

“smoking makes you a loser.”

“does not!”

“does too.”

and so kibum gets dragged outside along with him, and he thinks he hears kibum telling his friends he’s taking jonghyun home, which he chooses to ignore. he’s not that weak.

he throws up in the gutter out front, judged by the security and the lonely figure at the end of the street, but he can’t find it in him to care when the cold bites at his skin and kibum softly strokes the sweaty strands of his hair back from his face. he can be too kind for his own good and jonghyun almost wishes he could just go back to when it was simply hatred towards his mean boss, and not all these conflicting feelings swirling around his mind.

Fuck Off Please, he says to Cyclone Feelings. he is ignored.

“you know i feel quiet a lot better now. do you have like, a mint or something? my mouth tastes like this gutter…” his voice still slurs.

and kibum does actually, shoving a couple in his hand from a little box that jonghyun can’t figure out how the lid of it comes off, but chooses not to dwell on it.

he lets kibum drag him home, even if they’re both equally drunk (jonghyun’s worse for wear but he won’t admit this in the morning, those shots fucked him up)

“fries?” he asks when they pass a vacant mcdonalds, sitting lonely on the streets of seoul far too late at night.

“fries.” kibum confirms.

/

they find themselves ordering far too many fries than they expected, and a large strawberry thick shake to dunk them in (perfect drunk and sober food if he’s being honest) and there are at least two cheeseburgers, one now that kibum pinched one of them, that jonghyun stuffs with fries as well, fries can be added to almost anything in fast food.

well anything apart from soft drink, that one hadn’t been a pleasant experience.

kibum kicks at his foot under the table when jonghyun hogs the thick shake too much, and he kicks back when kibum steals from his box of fries.

and the poor staff have to deal with the pair of them kicking up a fuss about stealing each others fries, kibum who’s usually just so perfectly placed and probably dines in five-star restaurants daily, trying to flick fries at jonghyun face in a dirty mcdonalds booth, and jonghyun who won’t stop laughing at the mess they’re in.

it’s the most comfortable he’s been in a while and he thinks kibum might feel the same.

/

they arrive home, after what felt like a lifetime of a walk but was really just a couple of streets down, in a clutter of trying to be quiet and jonghyun still giggling.

“i thought i was sober but those shots won’t fucking let go,” he stage whispers and kibum laughs at him through the painful process of trying to remove their shoes.

“get off,” he grumbles to the offending pair of shoes as he finally yanks one off his foot. he’d probably break his feet if it meant not having to untie the laces.

“you’re hopeless,” kibum says, he’s not; he gets the second one off with a lot of effort but little broken bones. he thinks he did well.

“not hopeless at all,” he says, “anyways do you have like, any strawberries.”

“why do you want strawberries?”

“well they’re cold you know, and my face feels hot and i want something sweet.”

“you just had a strawberry thick shake,” says kibum, but he’s still stumbling his way to the refrigerator. “you bought some last shopping trip remember.”

he vaguely remembers throwing some in along with a guava fruit.

“oh, well that’s good then.”

he can see that kibum’s drunk as well, and despite the fast food sobering them both up a little they’re still both very in the wrong state. instead of slumping at the bench like normal, he completely misses the barstool and crumples to the wooden floor with a yelp. he hadn’t slipped, not at all.

he plays it off as casual as possible, and sits cross legged just by kibum and the fridge, this way is much more easily accessible to get strawberries, and he shuffles along towards the entryway of the kitchen a little more, until he can finally watch kibum get the strawberries out.

“i’m sleepy.” he yawns.

“still want the strawberries?”

“mhm.”

kibum sits on the ground to pull out the plastic tub at the bottom of the refrigerator, and stays there for a moment till he can actually gather the ability to scoot along so he can shut the fridge door and give jonghyun the strawberries. jonghyun finds it’s funny to watch kibum struggle.

“thank you kibummie!” he says once kibum finally manages to get the strawberries to him and he plucks one out, holding the green leaves so he can eat the fruit and he almost doesn’t catch the red dribbling down his chin.

the strawberry is so sweet it’s almost sour.

“fuck,” he groans and it almost drips onto his shirt, but doesn’t, and he certainly doesn’t miss the way kibum’s gaze lingers on the fingers jonghyun swipes across his chin.

kibum sits just in front of him - shadowed by the bench that the moon and city lights just don’t reach through the large panel windows - his knees almost touch his.

“sleep?” he asks kibum after four strawberries, and a quite a lot of tired staring. kibum shrugs his shoulders.

kibum’s close, uncomfortably so and their knees press together. so against all previous inhibitions, jonghyun leans forward and straight up plants a kiss on kibum’s lips.

he knows it’s probably sloppy, and kibum feels too warm against him, pressed so close that jonghyun takes it as an opportunity to climb into his lap.

kibum kisses back, and it’s so fucking good. he practically groans into his mouth, it’s so much better than the other times, so unscripted and-

“oh jonghyun, not like this.”

“’m still sleepy,” he mumbles, only just gazing at kibum kiss swollen lips.

he’d been teasing, and jonghyun can only think how unfair, before he lets his head loll onto kibum’s shoulder, soft snores piercing the quiet after a few moments.

/

he wakes up to the blur of an empty bed, a glass of water, tablets and a bucket within arms reach.

and all he can remember is the blurry aftermath of something that he doesn’t know, and the unwanted feeling of dread (and the urge to throw up) stirring in his stomach.

in his tired, addled brain, he doesn’t know exactly what he did; all he knows is that it can’t be good.

/

“come on, you’re being awkward again - and don’t blame it on a hangover it’s been hours,” kibum mutters, perched next to him on the sofa as if he’ll take flight any moment.

“just tired,” he says, still dark from the arm flung over his eyes. nothing combats an odd tiredness he feels in his bones quite like a expensive bottle of wine does, (kibum’s going to fucking wreck him) and he takes a careful sip every so often, letting it rest back by his thigh with the neck of the bottle in his hand.

nothing says forgetting last night’s bad choices with more booze.

“we’re going for a drive.”

“i don’t wanna.”

he’s in the right state of just feeling warm in his chest from the alcohol yet again, more loose than he was earlier, even with kibum pestering him.

“it’s a maserati jjong! are you really passing that up?” he says, “i’ll even let you drive us back if you promise you won’t crash.”

that perks his interest. and he peaks out from behind the sleeve of his jumper.

“i won’t,” slowly, very slowly he assesses kibum. “but where are we going?”

“you’ll see. it’s nice.”

“constantly so secretive,” he mumbles, but smiles behind his sleeve at the nervous looks kibum shoots him.

“c’mon,” kibum says finally, pulling himself up from the sofa, taking his wine, so sweet and fragrant that he misses it already, and placing it on the coffee table, and offering out a hand to jonghyun, who takes it without a second thought.

“we’re going out!” kibum calls to kiyoun, who’s at her laptop again, steam swirling from the tea beside her.

“stay safe you two.”

“we will!”

and then kibum is dragging him out the door, but not before shoving a beanie on jonghyun’s head a stuffing him in one of his designer coats, all big, puffy and dark, with a trim of grey fur on the hood. it smells like kibum, and despite vocally protesting about it he still snuggles back into the warmth of the coat.

kibum pulls on a grey coat that reaches to his knees and he considers a scarf before dropping it back with a shrug, his black hair bouncing when he turns to offer a smile to jonghyun and he can feel his chest constrict at the sight. unfair, he thinks.

kibum grips his hand again, despite kiyoun being out of sight, and shouts a “goodbye!” to her. he doesn’t let of his hand even when the click of the door sounds and the corridor is plunged into quiet. despite the sounds of their footsteps and echo of their breaths, jonghyun can only hear his own heartbeat in his ears the loudest.

/

a heavy beat fills the air when he flicks on the radio in the car to combat the quiet, a clap of acoustics to set the rhythm of the song, and kibum grins when he recognizes it, one that he apparently knows well. it’s english, and jonghyun hardly knows it at all.

it’s already at the first chorus and he can feel the bass through the seat and his fingertips that touch the leather. kibum only ups the volume with a burst when he pulls out of the parking garage and into the seoul night.

“come on this one was popular last year, you had to of have heard it at least once!” kibum exclaims over the music, jonghyun has faint memories of a club and the whirl of the music and he thinks he may have heard it once, but can’t pinpoint a time.

kibum doesn’t mumble and guess the lyrics, but instead belts out the chorus, his voice crackling with laughter when jonghyun catches on as the chorus comes back around.

“duh-don’t worry ‘bout it…” jonghyun sings as best he can, trying to keep up with the lyrics in a whole other language, “don’t you worry about it.”

“ah see you’re getting it!”

kibum’s a fucking dork, jonghyun thinks, when his eyes shine under the busy streetlights they flash by, and as he nudges at jonghyun to at least move to the beat like kibum is, jamming his head and sway of his body to each ‘oh’ of the verse that builds up into what he thinks might be the last chorus.

and it is as the music pauses, and then starts up with a thump of bass that kibum slaps his hands against the wheel.

“pi-ick apart the pieces you left,” he practically screeches and jonghyun bursts into peals of laughter as kibum’s tone cracks.

“idiot,” he says in between gasps of breath and laughter, kibum still continuing to sing with the occasional press of his hand against his chest dramatically.

he’s glad the alcohol he’d been stress consuming earlier let him melt into a hazy state of just the music and kibum, and even as the song comes to a close his cheeks hurt from smiling just a little to much at the antics of kim kibum.

“ah, that was loud,” he whines when the tune fades.

“but fun though, don’t complain.” he grins. “look at you smiling,” kibum laughs and pinches his cheek, to which jonghyun bats away, scowling.

he lets the next song merge into something more acoustic, and turns it down just a little so that it’s not blasting in their ears, acoustic much more high pitched and assaulting than the smooth bass of the previous song. it’s still nice though and he let’s himself just enjoy kibum’s company.

/

“i can’t believe you dragged me out to inwangsan mountain,” jonghyun says with a puff, the coat he’s in feeling just a bit too hot despite the chill of the night air.

kibum had pulled him along rocky stone paths, past dark and cold looking temples and looming rocks.

“it’s quite nice in the day time, but the views are so much better at night,” kibum had said and then pointed out a huge rock as they wandered past, looming above them in the darkness. jonghyun clutches at kibum’s jacket sleeve so he wouldn’t stray to far in the dark. “that’s seobwani rock.”

he trips up on the stone path a couple of times, and kibum warns him of the boulder that he almost fears might roll and squash them both. of course it’s highly unlikely but he still creeps around it in the dark, with only the torch of kibum’s phone and faint light from buildings behind them to guide them.

“it’s okay i’ve been here a few times - just keep following my steps,” he reassures, which jonghyun finds far too endearing, and when kibum leans back to take jonghyun’s shaky hand in his own, his heart stops.

they both pick their way up the trail towards the top, the canopy of trees opening up to the stars that are still faded by the city lights, he doesn’t truly see the sight until he’s got his hands on his knees near the top, gasping for breath, a stop on a dark bridge that crosses a white trail of a fortress wall that follows the peak of the mountain top.

it’s quiet and it’s cold, and the wind nips at his cheeks like ice, but the sight leaves him breathless.

“oh i’ve never seen seoul from high up!” he exclaims, he’d seen it from the tiny circle window of an airplane, but never like this. “kibummie look it’s so fucking bright.”

the nickname rolls of his tongue without a second though, automatic to him now, and he flushes. kibum doesn’t seem to pay much attention to that though, gazing at the sight that could compete with the stars in sheer magnificence.

he lets out an appreciative hum. “come on we can probably get away with sitting on the wall, my legs are tired,” he says and climbs up onto the railing of the bridge that crosses it, and levers himself up to sit on the small step like platforms that adorn the top of the wall that continues on the top of the mountain. he shuffles back up a couple of platforms; letting his legs dangle to over one side so he can see the sprawl of city below him.

jonghyun climbs up after him, a wobbling feeling in his chest that feels as if he leans back a little to far he’ll be dragged to the ground worming it’s way into his consciousness, and he doesn’t particularly want to fall a few meters into the dark ground right now.

“i’ve got you, move forward more,” kibum says, and suddenly he’s aware of the strong grip kibum’s managed to grip onto his arm. “don’t go falling off, idiot.”

“i feel so rebellious,” he announces once he’s finally settled, legs swinging over the edge of the wall next to kibum’s.

“sitting on a wall makes you feel rebellious?”

“i mean we’re probably not allowed to do this in the day, i can picture some old lady smacking you off the wall,” he says, laughing at the picture his mind conjures of kibum being hassled by a tiny old lady with a handbag for being disrespectful. he even acts it out, hunching his back and pretending to be frail as he hits kibum with an imaginary handbag.

“you’re fucking weird, you know that right?”

jonghyun almost pushes him off the wall after that, but lets them both settle into a peaceful quiet, far from the loud stuffiness of the city.

“you’re not that bad really,” jonghyun says, breaking the stillness. which is far less then he wants to say because kibum is the opposite of bad, he’s so good it’s bad and jonghyun fixes a firm glare at Cyclone Feelings.

kibum turns to look at him with an odd look in his eyes, head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“i give you shit, and you are mean, but really you’re not an awful boss.”

“i’m not that mean!”

“well you’re,” he thinks, “i don’t know…harsh on everyone.”

kibum shrugs at that. “i’ve got people to please as well, and most of your colleagues are dimwits, they’d never get anything done without someone snapping at them.”

he mulls this over for a moment.

“i can’t disagree with that,” he says finally. “but at least ease up on the coffee drinking - every time you send me out with your specific order it’s like walking out into a pack of hungry seagulls, do you know how many coffee orders i have to run?”

“oh the woes of being an assistant,” he mocks, throwing a hand across his face as if fainting. “wait is that why you’re always late?”

“yes,” he replies. “i live in fear at just a mention of the word coffee.” it’s a very serious issue, he’s a tiny bit afraid of at least 90% of his colleagues.

“i’ll find a sneaky way to get coffee.”

jonghyun hums happily at that, one less burden for him to worry about now, and yet it’s only something minor in comparison to the fact that after some serious revision he’s come to the conclusion that

1. a) his minor crush on kibum is forming into a major crush, some sort of combined superpower of a crush and it hurts his heart and Cyclone Feelings is hitting too close to home.

1. b) if kibum continues to nudge his way into jonghyun’s space and stare at him with those fucking eyes, he won’t be able to resist.

so in his best course of action, he bundles himself up tighter in the warm of kibum’s coat and suppresses his shitty feelings, crushing them like a bug, and burying them somewhere deep in his heart, because he can’t figure out if it’s just attraction and attachment he’s feeling towards someone he’s spent more time with in the past week or so than he has with any rather distant friends (that are outside of work) in probably a year.

“i brought samgak gimbap if you’re hungry,” kibum says, pulling out the small triangles from his pocket. “it’s only the convenience store kind nothing fancy, i didn’t have much time to find any other snacks earlier.”

kibum seems embarrassed about this fact, and jonghyun begins to wonder if kibum planned this trip and wasn’t just a thing of the moment.

he pushes kibum about it, teasing him about the fact that he planned a cute date for him, that kibum only responds with a stuttered “i didn’t!” and then “okay maybe a little, but you seemed sad and i wanted to apologize.”

“apologize for what?”

“for being a dickhead last night… and in general,” he mutters, and jonghyun thinks kibum’s cheeks might even be flushed. “i don’t want you to feel awful about situations i drag you into.”

“hey, i chose to go out with your friends last night that was my choice, and even if i may not remember much about it, i know it probably wasn’t awful.”

he remembers only flashes of the events of last night, to bright lights and many people, the warmth, kibum’s smile and kibum’s laugh as jonghyun refused to let go, a sleepy warmth and daze to the evening.

kibum mumbles something that jonghyun doesn’t quite catch, he assumes it’s maybe something along the lines of a muttered, he doesn’t remember.

“still, you wouldn’t be neck deep in this shit if i hadn’t-“

“kibum we’re too far into this now, we’re probably on the cover of the next issue at this rate. i’ve survived that shitty uproar from the media and so did you, and i’m sure you’re mother adores me. you don’t need to apologize, i chose to stick with you through this okay?”

his lip almost trembles at the reminder of the string of articles released in smacking him down, simply for associating himself with kibum. the criticizing comments he’d scroll quickly past on twitter. fuck he’s trying and people only see him as the accompaniment piece to kibum’s glory, something for them to only critique and smack down.

it takes kibum a moment for him to nod his head. “okay.”

there’s a beat of silence that gives jonghyun the opportunity to calm the swirl of emotions in his chest, focusing on the city lights as an anchor, and then, “you’re quite sensitive to things aren’t you? under all that,” kibum says, gesturing to jonghyun in general.

“under all what?”

“well you act all prickly, like a cactus.”

“i’m not a fucking -“

“or maybe a hedgehog.”

jonghyun huffs at kibum’s assumptions of him.

“i’m not prickly,” he mumbles.

“yes you are, but despite that, you have so much fucking care and manage to just take everything in stride. i don’t know how you do it,” kibum sighs, and picks at the wrapping of the gimbap he’d forgotten that he’d been holding.

“i know you don’t like woohyun.” kibum brings up, and jonghyun can feel the flare of envy tight in his chest. “what did he do this time?”

“he’s scary, i think he’d kinda mean.” jonghyun says, and he knows he’s being petty.

“he’s my best friend,” kibum sighs, “though i think he can maybe get a bit protective.”

“i noticed.”

kibum lets out a snort.

“and also i don’t cope very well, i cry about a lot i can’t help it.” he lets out a light laugh and kibum makes a sound that he assumes is a laugh. “not very manly at all, but you’re doing awfully well through all this as well,” he points out, and carefully plucks one of the triangle packages from kibum’s grasp. he’s hungry, he needs food to get him through the cold and kibum.

he accidentally lets the seaweed rip with the packaging, but it stays together in the plastic, just going to be a tiny bit more difficult to eat. he notices that kibum had managed to separate his perfectly, but doesn’t eat just yet.

“i don’t sleep all that well,” kibum admits, “this industry is ruining me, god i’ve worked so hard to get to where i want to be and i thought i could ignore the critics but it starts to get to you, you know.”

jonghyun knows all too well, being far to empathetic for his own good has it’s downsides and this is a side he never expected he’d see from kibum.

he thinks he might have known, subconsciously maybe, that this has been building up for a while. even just as he works as kibum’s assistant. just the dull look in his eyes when he thinks no one’s looking, the slump in his shoulders, months, potentially years worth of pressure forcing him down.

“i don’t even know if i want to be where i am anymore. there’s too much,” he sighs, “far too much.”

for once, jonghyun bites back his remarks that would lighten the situation, and instead rests his head on kibum’s arm, cheek pressed into the soft fabric of his coat, easy to do from being one step lower than him, and he winds an arm around his waist, hand resting lightly on his hip, as the only form of comfort he figures he can give. kibum lets his arm come across to rest on jonghyun’s shoulders, hand hanging over his collarbone.

they both munch on their gimbap using their free hands, and jonghyun doesn’t know if kibum is one to easily cry, but he lets him have his privacy by only simply being there to hold him, and he doesn’t even know if he has the heart to feel awkward about it.

/

he does in fact, get to drive the maserati back to kibum’s apartment, despite getting lost on kibum’s awful navigational skills, he still gets to wind through traffic with about zero practiced ease but rather quick turns and guesses of whether or not he’ll make it through the lights (he floors it anyway) and they’re only left with kibum gripping the seat like his life depends on it and jonghyun wondering why he only just scraped through his drivers test.

/

jonghyun still has to dash out to grab coffee throughout the day, often followed by the other employees catching on to the fact he’s going on a coffee run, and subsequently he’s left with a stack of specific coffee orders for each individual. fucking annoying it is, and he’s still left late to kibum’s office, again, when it happens, brandishing his and kibum’s coffee like a treasure with windswept hair and a flustered look after being ambushed by the rest of them, a fucking pack of seagulls his colleagues are.

“i battled those seagulls for that coffee,” he says, “please appreciate it.”

kibum knows about jonghyun’s daily coffee struggles now, a mischievous glint in his eye when he accepts the coffee. he’s quitting, this is it, he’s got the pen ready to sign his two weeks notice in hand.

but it’s then when kibum takes a grateful sip of his disgustingly overly sweet concoction, and lets out a little, “oh my god, thank you!” that jonghyun can only stare at the sharp curve of his upper lip pushed up by the edge of the coffee cup, the flutter of his eyelashes against the light of his cheekbones, and it’s only then that he can’t draw his eyes away.

kibum’s pretty, in a way that women would envy his soft eyes, thick eyelashes and sharp bone structure, and in a way that jonghyun wouldn’t mind kissing again.

before it had been nervous and forced, trying to meet the expectations of those around them. unfair really a kissing kibum really wasn’t all that awful, just the circumstances were.

“jonghyun take a picture.”

he’s snapped out of his accidental zoning out session with a jolt. “wuh-what?”

“it’ll last longer.” kibum laughs at him, eyes crinkling with a smile.

he’s so fucked.

/

jinki i like my boyfriend

4:34pm

yes you do

4:35pm

no u dont understand i /actually/ like my boyfriend

4:35pm

that’s why people generally get into relationships idiot, even those who are mean bosses

4:36

hes not mean

4:36

there you go, you must like him to some extent if you’re defending him. and why are you texting me you’re like 10 meters away

4:37

i can’t expose myself like this

4:37

jonghyun smashes a few frustrated and angry emojis into the chat, honestly he really wants to tell jinki the truth about the whole situation, but as much as he trusts jinki, he can also be rather naïve, he’d probably expose him to taemin, who’d expose it to the world.

this would not go down particularly well at all, the media would have a field day, and kibum’s mother would probably get that disappointed look that kibum also has perfected so well and he’d rather not have that kind of hatred in his direction.

he sends off one last text.

ur no help at all thank u n goodbye

4:38

/

kibum stayed behind late that evening, the stress of meeting their upcoming deadline in a weeks time finally getting to him as he had to sort through what seemed like mountains of work to finalize it all.

he’d even shooed jonghyun off when he offered to stay behind as well.

jonghyun hadn’t been entirely sure about what to do in kibum’s mothers company when left alone with her, and especially not as he’d been having a crisis about potentially harbouring a teeny-tiny crush on his ‘boyfriend’.

he’d crept through the living room as she’d worked, and subsequently hid himself away. she’s not mean as such, she’s actually rather sweet, but also incredibly intimidating. He sees where Kibum gets it from.

and so against all prejudices, jonghyun, while hitting himself in the future for this, calls kibum.

“i’m having a fucking crisis,” he whisper yells through the tiny phone speakers.

“no you’re not ,what’s up,” kibum sighs. his voice is soft and jonghyun can’t help the shiver that trails down his spine, he’s so fucking screwed.

“what am i supposed to do, i’ve got to fend for myself with your mum around, it’s unbearably uncomfortable, i don’t know what proper etiquette i’m supposed to use, am i allowed in the living room?” jonghyun’s going to cry he can sense it already. “i’ve been holed up in our room for the past hour i want ramyun.”

“jonghyunnie, i’ve stayed late at work before and i’m driving home now anyway. it’s same as last time literally just go out and make some ramyun god just act like you normally do when i’m around.”

jonghyun doesn’t even know if kibum let the nickname slip by accident or not.

“that was only an hour! and i don’t even know how i act when you’re around,” he almost whines and stamps his feet a little, almost.

“well go out and make it now since you’re on the phone with me, it’ll be fine.”

“i’m literally going to die, i’ll see you in hell-“

“you won’t.”

“-also, kibummie, can you get juice on your way home?” he tacks on when he wanders out into the living room, to see kiyoun scrolling through emails on her laptop, teasing kibum seems to dissipate some of the tensions in his test.

kibum snorts a little. “i’m stopping in at that convenience store.” kibum drives quickly apparently. “any specific juice? apple, orange?”

he’s genuinely going to get him juice, he’s touched.

“uh, yes,” he says without thinking, waving to kiyoun.

“apple it is, or maybe i’ll get grape since you like that one so much.”

“no, kibummie not grape!” he whines, when he’s snapped out of his odd daze at the mention of grape juice.

“it’s too late i’m already at the counter,” he teases.

“no, no, get apple! if you come back with grape juice i swear to god-“

“oh it’s gone through already.” and jonghyun can hear the beeping of the scanners echoing in his phone.

“no…” he says. how dare he buy grape juice?

“i’m breaking up with you kibummie, this is it, and it’s your fault alone!” he says dramatically, laughing at the over exaggerated cry of despair on kibum’s end, before it ends abruptly with the tap of the end call button.

“trouble in paradise,” kiyoun asks, and jonghyun nods sadly.

“kibummie insists on buying grape juice.”

he’s still standing near the edge of the living room and kitchen, a sharp hipbone pressed against the bench as he waits for the hot water to boil in the pot.

“i’m surprised he allows you to tease him with nicknames, he scolds me for using them and i’m his mother… is he still not letting anyone refer to him as kibum?”

once jonghyun thinks about it, he realises he can’t pinpoint a time where kibum had gone from ‘mr kim’ to just kibum. no one else calls him kibum, only jonghyun - and he had never been corrected.

“oh, uh, only me,” he says quietly, this new development making a crash course through his mind, along with his other feelings gnawing at his heart. he’s going to have a lot to contemplate, but for now he only offers kiyoun an option of ramyun packets for dinner, peering at the slow process in a hazy state of mind.

/

kibum comes home with grape juice, a vile disgusting thing that jonghyun almost cries about at the sight of. until he pulls out a small bottle of apple juice, a cute little green sticker on the front and jonghyun kisses him in forgiveness at the kibum’s pinch on the elbow, their signal of having company - or kiyoun - in the room.

(jonghyun later finds out that kiyoun had not in fact been in the room, but that kibum just couldn’t resist the pout of jonghyun’s lips and the slightest sweet taste of apple)

/

“i’m sick,” he whines. “this is it, this is the end.”

he’s felt it coming on all day, a pressure behind his eyes and nose and scratchiness in his throat that hadn’t been there yesterday.

and then his nose had started to run.

he’d tried to fight it off, drank a few liters of water and knocked back a cold and flu tablet or two. but he’s sick.

jonghyun bemoans quietly to himself. he’d been able to hide it at work, just ignoring his incompetent colleagues as per usual; and kibum, buried in finalizing the newest issue of shinee, had been a little more lenient.

but now he’s sick. sniffling and grumbling and sick. kibum glances up from his desk, blinking.

“sick?” he says, hoarse. “what do you mean, sick?”

“i mean i have a cold,” jonghyun complains. kibum’s brows furrow, and jonghyun knows he’s stressed about work, he knows he’ll never be put before paperwork-

“we can go home now, if you want.” kibum startles jonghyun by saying, actually looking concerned. it doesn’t help at all. Cyclone Feelings begins to stir. kibum was concerned about him.

worry makes his face look funny. he skirts around his desk and touches a shocked jonghyun’s face.

“you’re burning up. c’mon, we’re going home.”

“but, the issue-“

kibum waves a hand. he grabs jonghyun’s wrist and places his burberry coat around the shorter man’s shoulders.

“those idiots in the lobby aren’t just there for show and tell. they can take care of things.”

kibum is quiet leading jonghyun home. “just let me look after you.” he mumbles, cautious, like this is the only thing he wants, like he’s ashamed for wanting.

“o-oh,” jonghyun whispers. “okay.”

/

turns out, kibum cannot make soup to save his life. jonghyun settles for crafting his own packet ramen, and forces kibum to hand feed him.

it’s all sickeningly domestic, being taken care of.

jonghyun comes to the quiet realization, on his own, that there’s no kiyoun. she’s out at a gala, there’s nobody to convince. this is just kibum taking care of jonghyun and his heart hurts.

/

he wakes up, a little feverish, in kibum’s arms. a new development of sorts, because while they’ve shared a bed for some time now, this is the first time full contact has occurred. he hates how much he loves it, how right this all feels, sleepy and groggy he crawls closer to kibum, who is just so so warm, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

“jjong,” kibum says, in his sleep, mumbling. “mm,” he murmurs, and jonghyun makes an incomprehensible noise in response, curling closer to kibum.

he’s so warm, and it feels so, so right. jonghyun lies like this, cuddling kibum, and he wants, so badly for this to be real. for them to have a day where he could pretend that this is what they have and that this is real.

newsflash: it isn’t.

/

despite falling asleep in kibum’s arms, jonghyun wakes alone. kibum’s left a note by the bed side - NO WORK - it reads. theres some advil and leftover soup. jonghyun rolls back over into the pillows, and the sheets that smell like kibum, and he can pretend for a while that the younger man is here, holding him close.

/

“oh you’re gonna love this,” kibum says, days after, when jonghyun’s recovered from Being Sick. he can only guess at what kibum’s about to bring up.

kibum’s got the magazine spread, a huge folder of clipping and mismatched pieces already to be digitalized as soon as the copy got the run through by kibum, and he’s got it open to one very specific page.

“come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t know about his before!” exclaims jonghyun and kibum only shrugs. it’s not fair at all, kibum had said very specifically that it would blow over and he’s beginning to regret not recording that whole conversation so he’d actually have proof of it today.

it’s a whole two pages dedicated to them. an introduction of the editor himself, and although it hardly chooses to mention their ‘relationship’ - aside from a whole fucking column about jonghyun’s snappy interview - and chooses instead to focus on the elements of the photographs that had been taken of them that day, it’s still all rather suggestive.

it’s like they’d descended to the tabloid trash they really were. whatever brings up their sales the most, jonghyun supposes.

he would have been perfectly fine with it, had it not been him actually starring in it. two photographs sit bye side, cropped and taking up an entire a4 spread of page; one of him with his ankles linked around kibum’s as they both sit opposite each other, and the other taking up the entire frame as jonghyun tilts his head back to kibum who’d been behind him, draping his arms over jonghyun’s shoulders and staring into the camera from over jonghyun’s shoulder.

it’s a hot look, jonghyun will admit that at least, but he thinks it’s highly unnecessary

“we’re on the front cover as well,” kibum says quietly, as if he’s trying to soften the blow. two pages in this magazine are enough for jonghyun, but front cover is really pushing it. he kind of wants to cry a little.

it’s of them both from thighs up, sitting on unseen stools and while jonghyun’s tilted back on his stool and had been shooting his best sultry look at the camera (he’d tried his hardest okay) kibum had instead been glancing over at him with the tiniest smirk, and boy did they both play their parts well.

jonghyun would even go so far as to say he’d be pretty convinced himself had he been just a viewer, but then again because he’s not, all he sees is the fake air of it all (and the exact moment kibum had gone to call his camera face ugly, bitch)

honestly he didn’t know what he once thought would come out of that photo-shoot, he’d hoped it would’ve just been left down to teasing and then left in some dusty corner for the rest of eternity, in some part of his mind though, he had figured that he’d eventually end up in the magazine as well.

“seriously how’s this gonna blow over now?” he bemoans and at least kibum has the decency to look ashamed about it.

/

wednesday is a solemn affair. essentially, it’s a breakup.

it’s not discussed, the fact that after this time they’ve spent together, they will go straight back work as normal, a boss and his assistant and nothing more.

jonghyun feels this odd feeling build up in his chest, anticipation for the moment he knows it’s all going to end, and that the little bubble he’s been living in is going to pop.

it’s been fun, waking up in the morning to a sleepy kibum isn’t actually one of the worst things he’s experienced (unless he doesn’t get some sort of caffeine quickly) exploring expensive parts of seoul he’s never had the money nor the care to visit until kibum dragged him out on ‘dates’ in search of something to do outside of sitting around the apartment in the evenings. kiyoun is a nice woman, and he’s sad that the love she shows for kibum also extends to him and that he’s not even a part of their family, just something fake for the time being.

it makes him sad, a lonely sort of aching in his chest he hasn’t felt since he first moved away from home, that he’ll probably never even see kiyoun again, or kibum outside of work for that matter after this all ends.

it’s before dinner in fact, when kibum’s desperately trying to save overcooked looking pieces of chicken and kiyoun’s trying to whack him with a spoon for ‘ruining her perfectly good meal with his presence’, that he starts to feel the inevitably of this ending creep up on him.

he even excuses himself from dinner early to well, spend time moping.

“only one more day,” kibum says, sitting next to where jonghyun’s curled up on the sofa, some mindless drama playing on the tv. “i thought you’d be much more happy about this arrangement ending.”

kibum steals half the soft blanket jonghyun had been using to warm his cold toes. huddling under it on the sofa.

“your mum cooks real food, i don’t think i can go back to living off takeaway and instant ramyum after this!” he whines, but it’s not just the loss of the food he’s mourning. it’s the loss of kibum as well. he’s already seen it happening in the past day or two, kibum realizing that their charade won’t have to last much longer, his touches becoming less often, his personality more withdrawn.

it makes jonghyun sad that kibum can so easily go back to the way things used to be.

“i’m sure you’ve learnt a thing or two, you could probably cook something yourself, you made soup really well!”

“kibummie that was just packet soup and left over chicken.”

he’s actually still suffering the tail end of the cold he’d caught, nose still stuffy and eyes a bit watery. it only adds to how depressing his mood is getting. he really does not want to go back to his cold apartment where the hot water doesn’t work half the time, the heater breaks in winter and neighbors are more than shady. he doesn’t want to go back to a place where kibum is not.

“stop being so emo,” kibum whines, “i’m supposed to be the grumpy one.”

jonghyun only hits him with a cushion.

he still curls just the tiniest bit closer to him when they watch an action movie later on after the dishes are washed, kibum throwing an arm over jonghyun’s shoulders and pulling him closer when he keeps edging toward him.

he tells himself kibum only pulls him to his side, and lets his chin rest on the top of his head, and mutters complaints about the movie or compliments about him, that it’s only to elude kiyoun into thinking they really are together, because she’s watching the movie with them.

this time he doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince more, kiyoun, or himself.

/

“jonghyun, you have to look after kibum okay?” she says. “that boy doesn’t to stop. he always gets work and rest muddled up,” kiyoun says when she pulls jonghyun in for a goodbye hug. “look after each other - even though you’re both hopeless.”

kiyoun had booked a ticket for an evening train so she didn’t inconvenience them in the morning at work, kibum had argued they could just take time off to drop her off but she wouldn’t here a word of it. stubborn woman, kibum had hissed.

“i will!” jonghyun says, “i’ll even have us take cooking classes if it looks bleak.”

she laughs at that, scooping them both into one last hug before the train departs.

“stay safe, i love you both to pieces,” she says and with a kiss on the cheek for both of them.

“so embarrassing,” kibum mutters but kisses kiyoun’s cheek at her expectant glare.

with one last minute to board the train kiyoun pulls all her luggage aboard the train, yelling her goodbyes over the bustle of activity.

“bye-bye!” jonghyun yells, alongside kibum, who’d subtly hooked an arm around his waist as they waved to kibum’s departing mother. she waves one last goodbye from the doorway, before darting inside to find a seat by the window.

she’s out of view while she sorts out her luggage, and jonghyun rubs his arms over his parka against the cool outside air of the station while they wait for the train the depart.

it starts to pull out and jonghyun practically drags a reluctant kibum along the concrete platform, waving with a laugh to kiyoun who’s popped into view. they slow their fast walk to a stop when the train starts to gather speed, much to fast for the two of them.

“you can hardly powerwalk,” jonghyun laughs at kibum being slightly out of breath.

“shut up, you’re out of breath yourself.”

“from laughing at you, god my grandmother could walk faster than you run.”

“shut up, idiot.”

and it’s then, when their both standing on the lonely platform that used to be so busy but now quiet after the departed train, does jonghyun realize that it’s all over. those few weeks passed much to quickly for something jonghyun was supposed to hate.

“i suppose we should start heading back, you’ve got to pick up your stuff,” kibum says at jonghyun’s cut off laughter.

he trails behind kibum for the way home, climbing into his car with a sigh. he’s going to miss this car as well, the soft leather and purr of the engine. so different to the big rumbly buses he catches everywhere.

kibum is quieter when they get home, well, kibum’s apartment, yet jonghyun finds himself still thinking of it as home.

when kibum unlocks the door it’s dark, still a kind of soft dark though, the city lights illuminating the outlines of furniture that jonghyun already knows to step around before kibum manages to flick on one of the main lights.

kibum watches jonghyun begin to gather his things, his backpack, that had been left and ignored by the door since the start, now getting miscellaneous things shoved into it from around the apartment. jonghyun’s surprised how much of his stuff he’d managed to weasel into kibum’s apartment in such a short amount of time, all scattered throughout the rooms that the weird feeling in his chest begins to swell up and feel as if it’s going to burst. it’s far to quiet, only the sound of him shuffling about the apartment to be heard.

he picks up the potted plant, the ceramic cool against his fingers and palms.

jonghyun maybe wants to cry a little when he turns to ask kibum if he’ll carry the potted plant for him, and finds him still stood in the hallway by the kitchen, watching jonghyun gather everything he’d incorporated into kibum’s life.

“kibummie?” the nickname slips out before he can stop himself, but it breaks him out of whatever mental battle he’d been stuck in.

“you don’t have a car do you?” kibum asks softly, breaking the quiet.

he shakes his head, untrusting of anything he might say.

“it’s getting really dark out,” kibum finally says after a pause, “and i know the bus times are often late… do you think that you, i mean, it’s not good to be walking around so late you know?”

“the last bus goes just after six,” jonghyun says, chewing at his lip, “it’s almost six now and it is getting dark.”

kibum looks as if he’s debating something, and he hops from one foot to the other before finally speaking up.

“do you want to stay one more night? it’s dangerous…i’d be worried.”

jonghyun can only nod and look down, just to hide his happiness at kibum offering him to stay.

“i’ll move my stuff to the sofa for tonight, i’m sure your mother isn’t going to come barging through the door at any moment.”

kibum laughs, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “i’ll go get you’re blankets then.”

“thank you.”

it’s not what it used to be between them.

/

they’d had a take-away dinner, eating on the sofa instead of at the table as a rom-com played absent-mindedly in the background. there’s a lot between them that isn’t being said, and might never be said if jonghyun doesn’t speak up now.

he wants to, but he just doesn’t know where to start, or what he would say at all.

kibum excuses himself for bed far to early, though they still brush their teeth together, jonghyun almost chokes on mouthwash, which happens far to often when he tries to gargle it properly like kibum does, and kibum still smiles a toothy grin at the mirror to check his teeth are properly clean. kibum chooses to shower now, over jonghyun arguing that he’ll shower in the morning when kibum had offered him the shower first.

it’s so unfairly domestic that jonghyun wants it to last for time he doesn’t have.

it’s darker when he rolls over on the sofa to find a comfier position; the springs dig into his side and it’s colder out in the open living room. he doesn’t have enough blankets at all, just a thin one that often sits on the back of the sofa and a lumpy one kibum had found at the back of the cupboard.

it’s far too cold and he knows this will only worsen the remnants of the cold he’s trying to get rid of.

he wants kibum back, where it’s warm, and he’s only in the other room.

he’s just too much of a coward to go.

he stuffs a sofa cushion over his face when he feels the familiar hot prickly feeling on his cheeks and watery feeling of his eyes. he even almost screeches into the pillow about how unfair it is that he just keeps wanting more than he can have.

he’s gone and hoped for too much when kibum had invited him to stay over one more night and he’d though that maybe, just maybe, he’d actually have a chance.

instead he’d blown it, he’d been awkward and just gone and read into the situation too much.

“jjong.” it’s such a familiar nickname, that jonghyun practically flings the cushion across the sofa in desperation, before peeking up above the back of it.

“kibummie?”

“jjong,” kibum repeats again, as if unsure what to say. “it’s cold and just…”

jonghyun blinks in the dark, trying to make out where kibum is, only to see him standing by the hall, wrapped in his favourite thick duvet.

“i miss you, just… one more night?” he suggests, hand outstretched from beneath his duvet.

jonghyun considers climbing over the back of the sofa, but it seems just a bit to dramatic in this case, and so instead he settles for gathering his blankets and clambering over the edge, crossing the few steps of floor to grasp kibum’s hand.

“just one more night,” he confirms.

/

he intertwines his legs with kibum’s own, and rests his head on kibum’s chest, holding him as close as possible. he tells himself it’s because it’s a cold night.

there’s just too much left unsaid, but they still both leave it one last time.

jonghyun’s too proud to cry on kibum, so he bites his trembling lip and stuffs his face into the crook of his neck, even if it means he only breathes in warm air.

and none of kibum’s tears dripping into his hairline go noticed by jonghyun either.

/

jonghyun wakes up the next morning to the blare of his alarm. sleep crusted to the corners of his dry eyes and no kibum in sight.

well, really kibum’s just in the kitchen, and greets him with a tired half smile when jonghyun drags himself into the sight, pitiful for having hardly had any sleep and most likely sporting red eyes and pale skin. kibum has the indecency to still look fucking hot, bed hair all pushed up and swept back and black sweatpants unfairly clinging to his butt. jonghyun’s probably stares a little.

(to jonghyun’s unawareness, kibum had woken up earlier than he would have liked, only to drench his face in cold water and pile on as much emergency concealer as he could to hide dark circles and puffy eyes)

“morning,” jonghyun says gruffly and kibum only nods in acknowledgment, hiding behind a cup of coffee.

officially back to how it used to be, he supposes, mournfully resisting the urge to bash his head against the wall in despair.

/

jonghyun doesn’t sleep well for the next few days, his bed is too lumpy, his sofa has too many springs that poke into his back, his floor fucking sucks in terms of sleeping material (he spent less than an hour there before climbing back into his tiny mattress of a bed that feels all too large)

his sleep schedule has apparently gone on vacation, leaving jonghyun to despair silently as his entire world tears itself apart as Cyclone Feelings storms through his head; however he’s not letting the ever so unaffected kibum know that.

and even when kibum catches the cold jonghyun had only just fought off, he still looks put together, if not for the unblended smudge of foundation (or concealer jonghyun’s not all that knowledgeable with makeup) on his unusually pale skin, jonghyun would have thought that even he was unswayed by harsh colds as well.

/

“jonghyun i need to speak to you,” kibum says, one day, breaking the days of silence that hangs between them.

jonghyun is with jinki at the time, leant against his desk and whining about the issues down in design and how they’d blamed his disorganization of all things, when kibum shuffles over, looking all too frazzled and off colour for the two of them to even recognize their usually so well kept and put together boss that jinki almost laughs. jonghyun slaps him when he nods and splutters a quiet yes, and jinki mutters something about trouble in paradise; kibum looking all too relieved at jonghyun’s cooperation.

jonghyun swears he’s not that awful, that he hasn’t been giving kibum the cold shoulder that’s far too harsh for something so simple, a feat that isn’t all too easy with kibum as his boss.

even if he has been quiet, none of his usual joking comments about kibum’s neglected paperwork, or snide comments about his overly sweet coffee, even general conversation has been halted with kibum after those few weeks spent with him.

it’s all changed, the dynamic between the two, something that they’d had working so well before the whole drama and jonghyun wants to slap himself for letting himself fall so quickly when he knew - whether subconsciously or not - that this would all happen eventually.

he even wants to slap himself for just wanting that little bit more; for it to not be fake. he’d let himself get far to caught up and carried away, that all he’s left to deal with now is the consequences.

he wants to slap Cyclone Feelings most of all because literally, who asked.

jonghyun notices that kibum grips him by the wrist, it had become familiar between them, almost a habit, if only for a mere second to drag him to some place quieter, away from the bat like ears of all his colleagues who, he’s sure, are already spreading more rumours as the pair wander past them all. kibum’s fingers are hot against his skin, his palms are sweating, but he lets go all to quickly when he notices that he’s holding jonghyun’s wrist. jonghyun thinks that it’s just habit for kibum too.

jonghyun stumbles along after kibum, all to unsure about whether to casually stuff his hands in his pockets or swing them by his side and he’s overthinking things again. he leads him to his office, the blinds on the outer windows are drawn today, bathing the room in stripes of yellow from in-between the slats, so the glow of the afternoon sun isn’t so invasive.

“it’s… i got sick,” kibum starts, at the click of the door closing and jonghyun’s questioning look at the darker office. “i got migraines, the light never helps.”

“oh.”

it’s all he can think of to say, there nothing else for him to say.

“and i’ve had this awful cold for a few days now, i caught it after you left,” he continues and jonghyun thinks kibum’s voice might have cracked a little, just the tiniest bit.

jonghyun really wants to give his boss a hug, it’s jonghyun’s fault he’s sick and they both know it, probably a huge restriction in company guidelines and responsible work behaviour though.

kibum leans back against his desk, well-trimmed nails clicking against the dark wood when he places his hands down against the edge.

jonghyun doesn’t exactly want to sit on the incredibly uncomfortable yet fancy sofa near the door, the ones he’s always forced to sit on that digs into his back a little, and so he reminds standing, albeit rather awkwardly.

“i think i left cold and flu tablets,” jonghyun says after a while, maybe they went somewhere under the sink in kibum’s apartment. he can’t exactly remember.

“i’ve used them all.”

“have you tried soup?”

“you know how bad i am at making soup.”

“no soup then.”

fuck it’s awkward, jonghyun wants an escape, if kibum’s going to keep making those big watery puppy eyes at him, he’s just gonna fall straight back down into the hole he’d dug for himself those weeks prior. Cyclone Feelings is turning around, sights set on the poor tiny island of kim jonghyun, ready to destroy. he’s been trying so hard recently to squash those little feelings he found himself having around kibum, how unfair they’d been to him during those weeks that he thought he might actually have a chance.

“would it be breaking company guidelines to invite you round to make soup?” kibum asks, looking down at his shoes scuffing against the carpet, “it’s been too quiet and... i miss you. it’s not home without you.”

in a rather un-thought out plan, jonghyun practically lunges forward (more like stumbles) and pulls kibum’s chin up lightly by the pad of his thumb, hardly a touch.

“i think we broke a lot of company guidelines over those two weeks, but making soup definitely isn’t one of them.”

kibum’s voice had cracked, he’s practically crying over soup, jonghyun could only think fuck it.

and he kisses him. he kisses kibum. square on the lips.

this time there’s no cameras, no overbearing mothers, and no audience at all. this time it’s real, maybe like that one night on the kitchen floor that jonghyun only half remembers, or the tiny practice kisses they’s shared on kibum’s bed to halfheartedly convince themselves it could be real.

his lips are warm and slightly chapped; they feel just like the last time they kissed except so much fucking better.

that is until kibum pushes him back when jonghyun urges him on, pulling at his lower lip with his own. he stumbles, almost tripping over the edge of rug under the coffee table until he rights himself. fuck he’s done it now, probably misread the situation, oh my god he’s so fucking fired, and if not for the hot prickling rush up his neck and cheeks and tears welling in his eyes he could have played it off as a joke. he’s let his hopes up to high again, only for them to come crashing down at the last second. it’s almost funny how he’s managed to kid himself into thinking kibum off all people would like someone like him.

that is until kibum sneezes.

“i’m sorry i didn’t want to sneeze on you, i’d felt it coming for a while,” kibum says, and then, “oh my god, are you actually crying?”

“fucking dumbass!” jonghyun says and then, without thinking, pulls him closer for another kiss, both hands on his cheeks, but just a quick crush of their lips to reassure them that he’s probably not kidding, “holy shit you butt. you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“did you just call me a butt?”

jonghyun’s maybe let a few tears squeeze past his eyelids, dripping from his chin onto kibum’s dark pullover, but it’s nothing in comparison to kibum’s tears a mixture of laughter and relief (and probably his cold) that once started can’t be stopped.

honestly he didn’t now he’d end this rollercoaster of a week without a few tears.

“stop crying so hard, idiot,” jonghyun says, wiping the last of his own tears and trying to pat down kibum’s face with the sleeves of his sweater. “what are your colleagues going to think?”

“y-you’re my colleague.”

“i don’t count.” jonghyun kisses him again in-between trying to stop the flow of tears. it’s rather wet and kibum sobs a little.

“come on, sit down,” if he forces kibum to try the fancy death sofa while his defenses are down maybe he’ll shell out for a better sofa when jonghyun next complains, “don’t cry yourself out.”

“f-fuck you i’m happy.” he still lets his head fall into jonghyun’s shoulder. “you have no idea how long i-“

“hang on a second,” jonghyun cuts in, when he sees the movement of reflection on kibum’s inconveniently almost all glass walled office.

he peers around the edge of the door, the wall behind the sofa thankfully being plaster but from the door onwards it’s glass, and that’s lead to his demise. the little brat’s there, he can see the flash of blond in the reflection.

“i think our display has been broadcasted,” jonghyun whispers and kibum practically shoots up from the sofa. once jonghyun does start to pay more attention to his surroundings and not just kibum, he notices the little buzz of his phone notifications.

“oh no, it’s on the group chat, that shit’s getting taken down now.”

“the group chat?”

it’s not like they’d invite their boss to the group chat. the word nsfw certainly applies here. taemin’s far too inappropriate, he would’ve been fired within the first five minutes.

“taemin’s idea,” jonghyun says sadly.

“what’s the damage?” kibum asks and jonghyun can only peek at his phone from in-between his fingers.

“taemin got it on video, it’s grainy though thank god he’s got an android. oh and namjoo got some good camera angles, bless her she probably booked it here at the news.”

“tell them to take it down!” kibum whines, bottom lip jutted out in a pout, “i can’t have my tears ruining my stone cold reputation.”

“i can’t! as long as no one uploads i-“ jonghyun says, but stops. “nope, never mind. taemin was live tweeting to his ninety thousand something twitter followers, honestly i don’t know what i expected.”

“do i want to know what he said, is it work appropriate?”

“no. no you don’t, this isn’t appropriate for… anywhere really.”

“it can’t be that-“ kibum tries to catch a glimpse of jonghyun’s home screen, “-bad.”

taemin’s fired, poor kid. jonghyun already misses him.

it all ends with kibum yelling at taemin, and furthermore desperately dashing after him through the flurry of office cubicles, maybe a tear or two dripping down his cheeks as he tries to restore order.

jonghyun still yells words of encouragements from the sidelines, watching his boss (now probably boyfriend) chase one of his colleagues for his phone, around what used to be a respectable magazine publishing company.

“you really like him?” namjoo asks. the girl, who he’d once gossiped to about how awful kibum could be now staring at him expectantly with a raised, perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“i guess i do,” he says, but can’t hide the dopey grin when kibum finally catches taemin in a tumble. “i really fucking do.”