Work Text:
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1.
Kibum finally comes out to himself in the half-lit gloom of a dressing room, standing in front of a mirror, tugging at the long stockings at his thighs.
It’s after hours and no one will bother them – Kibum and Gwiboon, the one who appears in the mirror with her lovely slanted eyes and bow-lipped mouth, the long legs under the stockings that pool into cute kitten heels she’s wearing.
Kibum tips his head to the side and watches Gwiboon do the same in the mirror, her sharp cheeks highlighted by the low glow of half-on incandescent lights in the room. With a deep breath, Kibum steps away from the mirror and walks a circle around the room in his cute kitten heels, feeling his shorts catch against his thighs to contrast with the smooth way the stockings wrap up his legs.
No – that’s not right. He’s not Kibum anymore.
Kibum blinks, and feels Gwiboon steal over him like a pall, pulling at their mouth with her lips and her fingers skipping over their shirt and shorts, pulling and adjusting until she’s comfortable.
Gwiboon throws her shoulders back, straightens her spine, and walks around the dressing room in the heels again. She is much more confident like this than Kibum had been. With another tour, she stops in front of the mirror and does a mock curtsey in the air at her reflection. Kibum stares back.
‘Gwiboon,’ she says, her voice hushed as if sharing a secret. ‘This is Gwiboon.’
Relief washes over them both – Gwiboon’s shoulders slump and she smiles crookedly at Kibum in the mirror. ‘Finally. I get to meet you.’
Kibum is smiling crookedly back. Yeah. It’s an honour to meet you after so long. More than twenty years – a little too late, but that’s okay. They’ll make up for lost time together.
Gwiboon runs her fingers through her hair and sighs. ‘But now how will I meet the rest of them?’
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2.
It’s Sunday and Gwiboon is stretched on her stomach along the couch, wearing a tanktop and shorts, her hair tickling her cheeks as she tries to make lunch plans with Amber via text messages.
Minho walks in and clicks his tongue. ‘It’s cold, hyung.’
‘Noona,’ corrects Gwiboon absent-mindedly, rubbing her calves together because he’s right, it is a bit cold. Maybe she should’ve worn sweats.
‘Noona.’ Minho repeats and then walks out of the room. He comes back a minute later with a blanket and tosses it haphazardly at the couch while taking out the gaming console from the cabinet underneath the TV.
‘Thanks,’ says Gwiboon, before she presses send. Finally, she sits up to watch Minho load up some video game or another on the screen. He comes back to the couch with the controller and sits beside Gwiboon, wearing sweats and a t-shirt. She lifts one corner of the blanket, ‘hey – you’ll be cold too.’
Minho looks over with a raised eyebrow. ‘You’re never this nice, Kibummie,’
‘Not Kibum. Gwiboon,’ she insists, irritation pricking at the back of her eyes.
For a beat, Minho stares at her blankly before sighing. ‘Noona or not, still annoying,’ but he takes the blanket and wraps it around his shoulders, letting Gwiboon sit beside him with the other end of the blanket around her shoulders, both watching Minho’s character move on the TV screen.
Minho is still playing when Gwiboon goes into her room and changes into Kibum with his jeans and bedazzled denim jacket, three piercings and swept hair, grabbing his wallet and keys. He steps out and heads back into the living room to get his phone and reply to Amber that he’ll be there in twenty minutes.
He’s about to leave when Minho pauses his game and looks up, mouth opening up but no words come out. Kibum stands up, both hands stuffed in his pockets as he stares at Minho in expectance, waiting for the inevitable.
Except Minho just sighs, ‘see you, hyung.’
‘I’ll be back before dinner,’ replies Kibum, hoping the relief washing over him isn’t noticeable. It probably is with the way Minho’s gaze softens up and he just shrugs, going along with Kibum and his feelings. Kibum leaves the dorms smiling.
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3.
Taemin finds Gwiboon in the dressing room one evening, thinking Kibum would be doing a little extra dance practice, except he wasn’t anywhere near the studios.
‘And then I saw the light on,’ he says, watching Gwiboon lean against the make-up counter with her hair falling softly around her cheeks. ‘You look really nice in that skirt.’
Gwiboon blinks, surprised, and looks down her pastel blue blouse she had found and the white skirt she had pulled underneath. Personally, she thinks she looks a little like one of those tennis ballgirls, but it had looked pretty on the hanger. ‘Thanks. Did you want to go home, or did you want to practice?’
‘Can you practice in those shoes?’ laughs out Taemin, but it’s not unkind. Gwiboon clicks her sandals against the floor and shrugs, whirling around in a circle to show off her entire outfit to Taemin.
‘It’s comfortable,’ she says, almost absentmindedly.
‘Do you…’ Taemin stops then starts again. ‘Minho mentioned it once. Is this – are you Gwiboon-noona?’
Gwiboon looks up. So Minho had talked about it to the other members. ‘Yeah,’ she says. She spreads her arms wide in display. ‘Sometimes I’m Gwiboon, sometimes I’m Kibum. We’re both Key.’
She wonders if Taemin will get it – she doesn’t know what’s going through his head half the time, much like Minho. Neither wear their hearts on their sleeves – not the way Jonghyun and Jinki do. Instead, Gwiboon is stranded in a dressing room, feeling some yawning crevice between her and a contemplative Taemin even though only three steps separate them.
‘Does Gwiboon-noona hide around here then? Wearing skirts and stuff?’ asks Taemin finally.
‘Do I hide around here,’ she corrects irritably, feeling exposed. Gwiboon crosses her arms and glares at a spot above Taemin’s shoulder. ‘I just want to try it. There’s none in my closet.’
Taemin nods and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes still tracking Gwiboon. ‘Then you should get one. Or steal one of these. It must be a pain going back and forth the dorms and here to wear one.’
Gwiboon blinks and slides her hands over the sides of her shirt. ‘These ones are too ugly,’ she replies after a beat.
‘Then buy one,’ and Taemin is rolling his eyes, shifting back into that annoying, carefree maknae that Gwiboon is familiar with. She feels her shoulders relax and Taemin sweeps past her to go through the other hangers of clothes, picking out something pink and lacy – maybe for one of those evening ballad performances – and holding it to Gwiboon’s torso.
‘Noona, this would look cute,’ he croons, and Gwiboon is pushing him away with an irritable sigh.
‘I have taste and it’s not boring,’ she scolds before grabbing her jeans and sweater, changing back into them. She hangs the skirt and blouse back up where she found them and beckons Taemin to follow. ‘C’mon, I thought you wanted to practice.’
‘Wait up, I need to find myself some cute sandals to match yours too,’ mentions Taemin and Gwiboon throws one at his head, hearing his laughter echo out through the room, wrapping around her with relief.
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4.
For Jonghyun, Kibum know he has to be direct to get through his dense head.
‘Sit down, we’re going to talk,’ he says, shoving Jonghyun down onto the bed. Jonghyun stares up at him in expectance, leaning back on his hands, as Kibum stands in front of him. ‘There’s a part of me that I’ve just recently figured out. Minho and Taemin sort of know about it. Sometimes,’ he stops, stutters, falls silent.
‘Kibummie,’ smiles Jonghyun, ‘are you talking about Gwiboon-noona who took Taemin out for ice cream the other day?’
Kibum stares down at him. ‘Does everyone talk about me behind my back?’
‘Sorry.’ Jonghyun shifts forward, balancing his forearms on his knees. ‘I don’t really get it – but I’ve heard of it. Genderfluid, I think, is what Gwiboonie and you fall into.’
He can’t believe it’s Jonghyun who knows this, but he can’t say he’s particularly surprised. Jonghyun has always been more in tune feelings than the rest of them; he might have seen it in Kibum long before Kibum met Gwiboon in the mirror that day.
And whenever Jjong got curious about his members or feelings – Kibum wants to laugh. Jonghyun probably stumbled on the term on one of his long searches to find the perfect word, whether it’s for a song he’s writing or for someone he knows.
With a shuffle, Kibum sits on the edge of the bed next to Jonghyun, not looking at him. Instead, he spreads his fingers over his knee caps and thinks about measuring the space between his five fingers. Hopes it’s not there because of him.
‘That’s who I am,’ he says after a beat. ‘Gwiboon and Kibum. They’re both me. Both Key.’
‘That’s okay.’
‘Yeah?’ Kibum is looking at him, feeling himself go vulnerable and exposed in front of Jonghyun because Jonghyun would never, ever use this against him, he’s sure.
‘Yeah.’ Jonghyun leans over, and Kibum kisses him on the mouth, feels Jonghyun open up soft under Kibum’s lips. The comfort of the familiar touch slides down Kibum’s spine and he knows he’ll be alright. He’ll be okay.
Only one left, thinks Kibum when he finally pulls away from the warmth of Jonghyun’s mouth. Jonghyun seems to sense his thoughts, ‘so hyung doesn’t know?’
‘I don’t know – did you guys tell him already?’ snaps Kibum without any particular heat.
Jonghyun snorts at him and shoves at his shoulder, ‘you big wimp.’
‘Fuck you, Jjong,’ says Kibum, sticking out his tongue but he’s warm inside, as warm as Jonghyun’s hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades, a silent comfort.
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5.
Gwiboon feels shy. For the first time, Gwiboon feels shy. Not uncertain. Not anxious. Not unfairly vulnerable or exposed to things that she believes will hurt her. Because Jinki is not someone who ever makes her feel that way, and he never has.
Still. She suddenly realizes that even though Jinki adores Kibum, she wants – god, she wants – for Jinki to like Gwiboon just as fiercely, and so their first meeting has to go perfectly, wonderfully, clearly.
Finally, she knocks on Jinki’s door, and listens to him shuffle around before opening the door, hair a little mussed and a pen between his teeth. He must be going over the schedules. ‘Kibummie?’
Gwiboon lets it pass. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ Jinki takes the pen out of his mouth and twirls it around as he moves some clothes off his bed to make space. He sits at the chair by his desk, and Gwiboon notices the papers scattered everywhere, with various pen markings, and Jinki’s phone on his desk, probably to program alarms and various notes for things.
She’s dressed in jeans and a bright sweater and feels herself stick out against the grey covers of Jinki’s bed and his pile of dark clothes in the corner. Already out of place – and Gwiboon feels a wave of nausea come up her esophagus.
‘Hey,’ says Jinki, and suddenly he’s in front of her, smiling, a hand on her neck, keeping her steady. ‘You okay?’
‘Jinki-oppa,’ says Gwiboon and instantly regrets it because Jinki raises his eyebrows in surprise. She rushes on. ‘I don’t know if you know – look, I’m sure Minho or Taemin have mentioned it, or hell, maybe Jjong, but I think – I mean, I am genderfluid and you should know. That sometimes – sometimes I feel like Kibummie, and sometimes, like right now, I feel like Gwiboonie, but that doesn’t mean we’re different people, just. We’re both Key.’
‘Okay,’ says Jinki. ‘Hello, Key-sshi.’
‘Hello,’ she replies, staring at him, willing him to understand.
‘This explains Jonghyun’s sudden powerpoint presentation on gender and sexuality,’ laughs Jinki, ‘while you were out with Woohyun.’
‘Are you serious?’ Gwiboon rolls her eyes. ‘What are you guys – like, this isn’t some world-changing event.’
‘Isn’t it for you?’ he asks, pleasant as can be, and the question lodges in the middle of her ribcage.
‘Unfair. Low blow.’ She turns away. ‘Fuck off, oppa.’
Instead, Jinki leans forward and kisses her cheek. ‘You’re lovely as you are, whether that’s Gwiboonie, Kibummie, or Key.’
Gwiboon stares at the wall, feeling her eyes burn, her fingers fisted in her jeans. ‘Jinki,’ she chokes out.
He hears her plea and draws her into a hug, solid and warm, and lets her cry in the crook of his neck, murmuring, ‘we will love you however you are,’ into her ear until Gwiboon is full with it – full of adoration and affection and certainty that they are the ground under her feet and they will never let her fall.
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+1.
This is how it goes:
With Minho, Key is usually Kibum. They argue over the remote control or what’s to eat, and make fun of each other across the dinner table, and Kibum still helps with Minho with dancing, while Minho listens to Kibum’s rap and evaluates the pronunciation.
With Taemin, Key is usually Gwiboon. She ranges between cooing over Taemin with his soft eyes and soft mouth and lovely delicate voice, before wanting to kick his ass for being an annoying brat except she can’t because he’s the cute maknae. They still go shopping together a lot, and Taemin manages to convince her to buy a few more things that have more lace or frill or softness than Gwiboon would have ever chosen. Gwiboon likes wearing them in the dorms though, and even Minho has to admit she looks cute as fuck.
With Jonghyun, Key slides between Kibum and Gwiboon, liking the way Jjong reacts differently between both of them.
‘I like kissing you,’ says Jonghyun with Gwiboon nestled in his lap, her lipgloss smeared over his mouth.
‘I’m a good kisser,’ she replies with a twist to her lips that is all arrogance and it makes Jjong roll his eyes. He leans forward and rests his head on her shoulder. When Gwiboon shifts her hips, she can feel the loose grip he has on her waist and that he’s still soft in his sweatpants.
‘Just ‘cause I only want Kibum to fuck me doesn’t mean I don’t like you,’ he says in a hushed murmur, like he’s afraid he’s going to offend her over that fact that he’s too gay to even get it up for Gwiboon.
Gwiboon huffs out a soft laugh, thinking it should be the other way around. She should be uncertain over Jonghyun, but it’s reassuring instead. That Jonghyun knows she’s Gwiboon, she’s the same but different from Kibum, and that he still adores her in whatever capacity he can.
So she untangles herself from Jjong, liking the warm smile on his face, and heads to the doorway to call out for Jinki.
In half a minute, he’s there, a curious look in his eyes. ‘What is it?’
‘Gwiboonie wants to get fucked,’ says Jonghyun lazily.
Gwiboon curls a hand in the collar of Jinki’s shirt, tugs him forward. Jinki looks at her and smiles. ‘I’m trying to fix the TV right now with Minho, but later, I promise.’ He dips forward and licks at her mouth until she’s sighing and opening up. She was so happy he was bisexual.
Behind her, Gwiboon hears Jjong make a whining noise in the back of his throat and wants to laugh. Instead, she pulls away. ‘You’re getting Jjong all needy.’
‘Am I?’ Jinki looks over her shoulder and Jonghyun’s already there, fucking his tongue into Jinki’s mouth to taste him. It’s hot – seeing Jonghyun fall apart under someone else, his eyes fluttering closed, and the way Jinki takes control in soft sweeps of his tongue and gentle nips to the bottom lip, playing them to his own tune. Gwiboon shifts and clenches her thighs.
‘You said the TV is broken,’ she mentions loudly, and Jinki pulls away from Jonghyun’s mouth before nodding. Gwiboon continues in her imperious tone, ‘so the faster you fix it, the sooner you can fuck me?’
‘That’s the plan,’ replies Jinki. He has one arm around Jonghyun’s waist, the other around Gwiboon’s and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, content to be sandwiched between them. Honestly.
‘Then go!’ she says huffily, pushing at his shoulder, ‘I’ll come with, you helpless fools.’
Jinki laughs, kisses her cheek, and pulls away, even Jonghyun following behind.
After the TV is fixed, it’s late, and they all end up curled on the couch, Taemin snug against Gwiboon cause, ‘I’m noona’s favourite.’ Minho brings over enough blankets for them all and ends up on the floor next to Jinki. Beside her, Jonghyun holds one of her hands, and she can feel the warmth of Jinki against her leg as he leans back against the foot of her couch. They let Gwiboon pick the movie because she fixed the TV. All in all, it’s a perfect night.
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