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they're not quite dating. it's hard to call it that. it's hard to categorise anything they do with labels that don't fit because that's not the way they work. sometimes jonghyun will be waiting for kibum, just outside the gate in black jeans and a muscle tee, earphones loose against his chest with no music playing and sometimes he won't be.
when he is, kibum will feel his chest tighten in that silly way and his stomach flip and the way jonghyun smiles like a puppy but still manages to look cool is enough for kibum to forget he's just outside the school entrance and for his fingers to seek out jonghyun's and his head buried briefly in the smaller boy's shoulder as jonghyun's chest reverberates with a soft "hey babe."
sometimes he'll be at the bus stop, walking kibum home with their fingers laced loosely swinging between them as kibum talks quietly about ap chem and all the classes he hates taking.
it's not quite dating. the oft times jonghyun's there to kiss the corner of kibum's mouth in greeting just before he says goodbye to his friends, it's no, he's not my boyfriend because they've never really given words to what they have and kibum's never really needed to call himself jonghyun's boyfriend when the older boy's warm arm slips around his waist in a way that just might be satisfyingly possessive as they slip away from campus.
jonghyun is escape. he’s freedom and rebellion and teenage angst written into one beautiful boy. kibum curls his fingers into jonghyun’s shirts late at night and he looks into eyes and wants to drown. jonghyun tastes like another life and almost reincarnation as kibum leans against him, hidden away from the rest of the world where they can’t be found.
"he looks like trouble." minho comments offhandedly, taking another sip from his gatorade. kibum's close to snapping, reminding minho that it's literally none of his business and that he's only pissy because football training was pushed back. kibum doesn't though; starting arguments is exhausting and he's tired as is. he just shrugs, sipping at his milk tea and leaning back against the rigid metal seats of the cafeteria.
"so?"
minho's brows furrow, almost concerned but not quite. "he doesn't even go to school."
"not this school, no." kibum says, smoothing out a crease along his planner neatly as a way of distraction. he could pick up his phone, but then minho would snap and kibum's just kinda counting the minutes until jinki's vocal class ends so he can sweep into the cafeteria and save kibum from the conversation.
“it’s probably for the best. i mean .. he wouldn't exactly fit in." minho leans back too, although he looks a little more tense then kibum, just as rigid as the chairs. kibum wants to snap back, suddenly defensive. because really, minho doesn't know anything.
it's no secret that their school is one of the better ones in the district; a heavily decorated international private school, focused mainly on arts and sport. kibum's parents spend five digit figures a year on his education, and he spends most of it cutting class to meet jonghyun behind the sports shed to make out lazily, the remnants of jonghyun's last cigarette lingering between them like an unspoken whisper.
"like that matters. everybody here is kind of a prude." he replies offhandedly. he doesn't really forget that he used to be one of them. but now he could give two shits about who fucked who and who sold weed after gym class. kibum's heard enough of the shit they say about him alone. it's easier to pretend they don't say anything.
"I'm not attacking you," minho tries to soothe. it doesn't really work, he's already pressed kibum's buttons enough and kibum can't see himself enjoying anymore of the conversation as it continues. "I'm just saying. he looks like bad news and bad news travels pretty quick."
it’s senior year. kibum has exams to pass and applications to fill in. he could care less about the rumour mill. it's a thursday and despite kibum's history class tomorrow morning, he's pretty much sick of school as a whole and minho's still furrowed brow is evidence enough that kibum could be spending his time elsewhere.
he catches sight of jinki and taemin talking to one another in the cafeteria entrance and decides that now is probably the right time to slip away and leave before they threaten to call his parents or something.
"whatever," kibum sighs, forgetting the last scraps of his conversation with minho. "I'll be in the library studying," he lies, "have a nice weekend."
kibum swipes up his planner and his milk tea from the table, watching minho splutter in confusion and the brief realisation as he ducks away from the table the sudden “ - but it's only thursday - ?"
kibum manages to slide away from interrogation further. he stuffs most of his books under his arm and skilfully brings up his phone. speed dial. #1 is the italian take-out place three blocks down from his favourite cafe and he adores their bolognaise. it used to be the bulgogi stall near the park but italian food replaced korean in kibum's heart and jonghyun in turn, replaced every other phone number at #2.
he saunters into the empty hallway inconspicuously and heads for his locker as the call connects.
"babe?" jonghyun answers on the forth ring. kibum doesn't know if it's intentional or not. he doesn't pay it much thought as he quickly keys in the combination to his locker.
"hey. I'm at school."
"I figured." jonghyun laughs almost breezily. kibum's heart does the stupid mushy thing it always does. he squeezes the smart phone between his shoulder and his neck briefly, feeling like his father taking an important conference call at the middle of dinner.
"sorry," he doesn't know why he feels like he has to say it, but kibum does anyway. he fumbles with his history book for a few seconds before he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and tries to correctly compose himself before he has an unprecedented breakdown in the middle of the hallway. "I'm sorry i-"
"don't apologise. what do you need? you're okay, right?"
kibum pretends that the soft tendrils of concern flittering through jonghyun's voice is a figment of his imagination and he tries to ignore the sound of a door closing on jonghyun's end of the line and voices getting dimmer, like the other boy is wandering around to find somewhere quiet just to speak to kibum. his head spins.
"yeah. no. yeah - I'm fine. I'm just really sick of people right now and I wanted to come over. It's stupid - " he hurriedly goes to pack all of his shit up. if he can't go to jonghyun's where is he going to go. kibum tries to think of options until jonghyun's voice cuts over his own, deep and warm and something like a dream.
"that's alright. I wanted to see you. I'm at a hyung's right now - he won't notice me leaving. meet you at the shed?"
"yeah." kibum says, almost heavy with relief. "thank you i-" he stops himself suddenly when he realises what he knows he was going to say. I love you. kibum's mouth is suddenly very very dry and everything is very very dizzying and jonghyun doesn't even notice. kibum smacks the locker door closed, backpack swung across his shoulders. if he ducks his head and wanders across the oval to the gym, he can play it off like he's getting changed for gym class. not that anybody really notices.
"it's nothing. no problem. you're staying the night?"
jonghyun sounds almost giddy. its numbing in the way that kibum finds it endearing to no end. his heart thumps a few times in his chest before he finds the words to answer.
"I can't go home I - but I dont want to impose. I shouldn't have even called."
"kibummie," jonghyun says his name like he knows what kibum needs to hear. "I love having you over. we can order take-out. ill write music and you can study."
it sounds like heaven. kibum wants nothing more in the world then that. he closes his eyes and keeps his fingers tight around the phone.
"okay." he says. "okay."
jonghyun turns up at the back gate almost ten minutes later. his hair is messy, skin kinda flushed. like he's been running. he just saunters up to kibum like he's the coolest person in the world. kibum doesn't even bother with the gate; it's locked regardless, no he just curls his fingers into jonghyun's shirt and tugs him close.
he delights in jonghyun's slightly startled breath, loosing his cool kid composure for the briefest second as kibum kisses him almost messily. jonghyun's arms grip onto the metal railing, keeping them both grounded until kibum pulls back from the kiss, skin flushed pink just like jonghyun, eying the other boy's now-bitten lips.
"sorry. I just really wanted to kiss you." kibum doesn't sound like he's apologising anymore; it's different being on the phone with jonghyun's voice tinny in his ear, compared to now when he tiptoes his head over the fence just to kiss jonghyun.
"I'm not complaining. I missed you."
"I missed you too." kibum kisses his nose. then he slips his backpack from his shoulders; the $850 givenchy he'd bought in new york last year. that was before he met jonghyun. it feels like a lifetime ago, now. unimportant. kibum tosses it over the fence with little abandon.
"catch." he sings, and jonghyun does, stumbling back a little to make sure it doesn't drop. then kibum loops his fingers around the wire and pulls himself up, scaling the fence cleanly until both feet thump down against the concrete. jonghyun stands back, impressed.
"wow. breaking out of school. I'll make a delinquent of you yet." jonghyun says.
kibum hits him on the shoulder. "shut up. you can carry my bag home for that, asshole."
jonghyun laughs, but he has no protest, scooping up kibum's bad and pulling it around his own shoulders before falling into step right next to the younger boy. kibum's been here so many times - the back of the school, never turning left to his own house but ultimately deciding that he doesn't want to be around people that aren't jonghyun and moodily storming off alone, turning right to find himself at jonghyun's studio apartment.
they walk together. at some point, jonghyun's hand trails down kibum's wrist to join their fingers together. it's funny - couple things. they make kibum's heart race and his stomach churn but he has to softly remind himself that they're not dating. what they have is different.
convenient. it doesn't feel like convenience though, when kibum straight up-refuses to let jonghyun's hand go the entire distance from school to his apartment. it feels domestic.
jonghyun tells kibum to remind him to order take-out, like he promises. asking kibum if he's eaten, all soft and caring. jonghyun's apartment is kinda small, different to the two storey townhouse kibum's parents can both afford. it's much more open, basically three walls and a big glass window spanning across his flat. there's no break between his bed and his kitchen, all just one big room. kibum feels like he's at home as soon as he steps through the door.
jonghyun's got a big double bed pushed up against the brick wall that lines the entire flat. its messy, unmade, low down like a futon and kibum recalls tracing his fingers against the lines of jonghyun's skin as light crept through from the blinds in the lowlights of early morning seoul.
nothing has changed. it makes him feel good, in a way. that he can still remember exactly where jonghyun's sofa is compared to the big clean windows and just how the empty kitchen looks when it nears sunset. there's a keyboard by jonghyun's desk and a guitar on his bed. notebook open, filled with both messy hangul and music notes.
he toes off his shoes and jonghyun places his bag down softly, like he is with all of kibum and his things - delicate. treats it like they’re made of glass. jonghyun doesn't even have his shoes off when kibum slams him up against the doorframe and kisses him.
it's different this time, to all the other times they've kissed. lazy kisses, early morning tangled up in jonghyun's bed, too tired to move and just seeking warmth. fast, angry kisses when kibum's had enough of his parents words like knives, storming into jonghyun's loft unannounced and kissing him until he forgets. slow kisses, before the week starts up again and kibum has to memorise what jonghyun tastes like before he drags himself home and thinks about what jonghyun feels like curled up next to him.
this time, it's not exactly the same. not categorised. just kissing for the sake of kibum needing to be close to jonghyun, jonghyun wanting to be the only thing kibum thinks about. it's not too slow, not too fast, just languid and calm and relaxed and kibum keens, heavy in his throat when jonghyun's arms worm around him and hold him in place.
breathless and senseless, kibum withdraws, less frantic, and just rests his forehead against jonghyun's as their breaths span out between them both.
kibum waits for whatever it is, this unspoken tension to pan out. he can feel jonghyun's smile against his skin as the older boy nuzzles up against him and nips at his neck.
"c'mon," jonghyun coaxes, an almost limp kibum sagging against him. he finds his own feet then, breathless until he isn't. jonghyun tastes like salt and something he can't recognise. "you should be studying, not molesting me in my own hallway."
kibum laughs. "you love it."
jonghyun laughs back, and goes about actually taking his shoes off. his apartment smells like febreeze and jonghyun's distinct scent.
kibum picks up his bag and lugs it all the way to jonghyun's messy bed. it’s heavy; he has two days worth of study in the goddamn thing, and kibum sighs at the work he has ahead of him.
"you want me to clean up?" he wrinkles his nose as jonghyun ducks behind his bench and fumbles through the cupboards distractedly.
"only if it bothers you," he shrugs. "I've been at hyung's most of the week anyway."
kibum hates the twist of jealousy. they're not dating. he has to keep reminding himself that thats not what they are and that is not what this is, as much as he wants it to be.
"which hyung?" he tries to keep the nonchalance thick in his voice, but it comes out a little strained as he goes about setting jonghyun's guitar and notebook delicately down by the floor to make his bed. there's no dinner table or anything and kibum doesn't want to mess up jonghyun's writing desk.
he has a specific set of memories associated to lying down on jonghyun's bed. it's almost big enough for them to both fit comfortably, but not quite. not that kibum minds. he might even become daring enough to sneak jonghyun into his own home. the thought of watching jonghyun make the climb up to his second story window, breaking in like a hidden secret makes a chill run down his spine and he waits for a breathe to leave his lungs before jonghyun speaks.
"ryeowook hyung. he sings. I might write him a song." jonghyun sounds considerably amused. like he knows kibum is jealous, which, he probably does. kibum’s never heard of ryeowook-hyung. jonghyun doesn’t really talk about the people he knows outside of kibum and he wonders if it’s for the best.
"oh." kibum says, and that's kinda that. it's not tense so much as quiet, kibum tugging out all of his books from his bag and spreading them out across jonghyun's now made bed. silence stretches between them. kibum thinks its less awkward and more maybe distant. kibum feels the tide pull himself away and he instead, opens up his history textbook and begins to read.
jonghyun is uncharacteristically silent, but kibum pretends not to care as he finds his pencil case and begins with notes. ap history - ap chem - art class - english - japanese. the list goes on. he wants to die.
“remind me never to go to school again.” he says aloud, under his breathe, still annoyed. kibum isn’t trying to fill the silence; he half enjoys it, just existing alongside jonghyun without having to speak to him or see him just to know that he’s there is knowledge enough.
jonghyun laughs though, and it’s quite soft. kibum is still mildly pissy that jonghyun is writing a song for ryeowook-hyung and it’s childish and immature but he really feels like that’s what he’s entitled to be, even if jonghyun is only marginally older then him.
“what do you want for dinner?” jonghyun says, raising his voice, phone in hand. kibum peers over his own shoulder and huffs.
“whatever. i’m not fussy.”
“kibum.” jonghyun admonishes.
“jonghyun.” he replies, mocking. turning the pages of his textbook.
“you’re moody again. is this about hyung?” jonghyun asks, setting down his pen and notebook, as well as his phone. they can always order take-out later. jonghyun crosses the threshold of his apartment and kibum feels awfully defensive, crosslegged on jonghyun’s too-small double bed. he turns the next page on his book and begins to highlight key words in the paragraph.
“hyung.” he echoes. jonghyun groans.
“he’s just a hyung. kibum. you’re being unfair.”
kibum’s probably ruining their night. they could be lazily making out by now, jonghyun feeding kibum small morsels of dukbokki with his chopsticks and kibum’s school responsibilities thrown under the rug until the next day.
“sorry.” he grounds out, and goes about highlighting some more words. they’re not even keywords at this point, kibum is just distracting himself for the sake of distracting himself. if he looks up at jonghyun’s big brown eyes right now, he might cry.
“kibum.” the same admonishment.
“jonghyun.” sarcastic. kibum turns the page and jonghyun slams the book closed.
it’s almost a growl. the sound jonghyun makes is half animalistic but kibum forgets to complain as he’s tugged forward into a rugged kiss. it’s the angry kind now; he hates that he likes it so much. you’re mineminemine, it says, and i’m yoursyoursyours. kibum groans at the implications of his own thoughts and the yellow highlighter in his hands falls down to be lost in the dovet as jonghyun edges marginally further. kibum squirms and squirms. his breathing heavy, jonghyun kisses him until he’s not allowed to think.
“i’ll write you a thousand songs.” it sounds like a promise, jonghyun’s lips against kibum’s skin singing leagues against the thrum of his pulse, jonghyun’s kissing his neck again and he shivers but he’s really not cold.
“i-“ there it is again. i love you. i love you so much i love you i love you i love you. kibum can’t bring himself to choke the words out. he’s being stupid again. he wants to sob. instead, he throws his arms around jonghyun’s neck and gargles slightly into his shoulder. it’s warm. maybe jonghyun can already feel the sticky tears.
“hey. hey. kibummie -“ jonghyun says then, voice like honey. he brings kibum in, long, toned arms sticking out of his muscle tee to cradle kibum against him. he feels small like this; delicate. light. jonghyun makes sure he doesn’t break. he feels so stupid.
“sorry. i’m. sorry.” kibum sniffles. jonghyun rubs his back. his blazer is awful and tight and he really, really wants to get out of his uniform. the colours don’t match his skin and he hates it so so much.
“it’s stupid. can i get changed?” he wants to swipe at his face and get rid of the stupid angry tears because he’s not a fucking child but oh god he feels like it. jonghyun gives him enough room to separate them enough so he can study kibum’s face blankly.
“of course,” he says, without skipping a beat. “i’ll order jiggae or something. i’ll put your books away, we can worry about that tomorrow.” jonghyun says.
kibum is weak to everything jonghyun. he wants to protest; he really has to study, but deep down he knows that all he really wants in life is to waste the day, the rest of his day tangled up in jonghyun’s bed and talk about everything and nothing. he misses feeling like he doesn’t have to worry.
“okay. thanks. thank you.” he feels like putty in jonghyun’s arms. the older boy presses a featherlight kiss on kibum’s temple. it’s tender and sweet and boyfriendly and he doesn’t want to ruin things by asking ‘is this what we are?’
he ducks out of jonghyun’s arms then, trying to resist the urge to make this lightness in his chest last any longer then it has to.
“you can wear something of mine.” jonghyun calls, almost disorientated. kibum throws over a thankyou and listens dimly as jonghyun calls the take-out place downstairs to order their food. he closes the door to the bathroom and still manages to hear jonghyun’s voice behind the wall. kibum throws the uniform roughly in a pile just as soon as he’s in other clothes - a tee that’s far too big for him but hangs off his shoulders in a way that he hopes is alluring enough, and a pair of loose shorts.
true to his word, jonghyun has packed away all of his books neatly. the givenchy rests upright just beside jonghyun’s almost floor-mattress bed and kibum finds himself falling down onto it almost relievedly.
“you look cute in my clothes.” jonghyun says, once their food has been delivered and they’re just picking at the plastic containers with chopsticks lazily. kibum doesn’t really go red, but jonghyun’s compliments matter more then anybody else in the world.
kibum hums in response, lips curled around a piece of stray pork. his head is against jonghyun’s torso, the rise and fall of the older’s chest soothing in a way that everything else will never be.
after a while, jonghyun gives up eating and goes to curl his fingers in kibum’s hair softly, long nimble digits usually against black and white keys or curled around a pencil. jonghyun has beautiful hands. maybe jonghyun just has beautiful everything and kibum really is in too deep to ignore that now.
/
he doesn’t remember falling asleep - but he does. somewhere in-between talking softly to jonghyun about whatever it is they talk about, words exchanged he can’t quite remember. he wakes pressed flush against the older boy, and kibum’s dazed in the morning, eyes closed as he seeks out that soft feeling of warm and safe and okay and the distinct calming smell jonghyun seems to radiate.
he squirms and shuffles up a little. jonghyun’s still asleep, head resting against a pillow and kibum feels almost a little guilty when he stirs, but he immediately finds himself sleeping once again, big warm arms tightening briefly around kibum possessively.
it must be earlier then he though. jonghyun always wakes early, he complains to kibum about his difficulty sleeping on more then one occasion, but somehow every time they find themselves wound together jonghyun sleeps soundly. kibum tries to tell himself that maybe it’s just chance and it has nothing to do with him.
he tells his mind to shut up then, and pulls the covers up to his chin, snuggling up to the junction of jonghyun’s shoulder and his neck and staying there, where he can feel the steady rhythm of jonghyun’s heartbeat and for a while he forgets about everything else.
/
the next time he wakes, the bed is empty. jonghyun’s warmth is no longer there and kibum feels the loss like a hole in his chest. he blinks, lonely and disorientated and still drowsy from sleep until jonghyun’s voice carries over the threshold, although it’s not directed at kibum.
“jjong?” he calls, his voice is heavy and rough but he doesn’t care, head buried in blankets with eyes closed.
“no. hyung, i’m busy. i have stuff to do.” jonghyun grumbles. kibum sticks his head up from the blankets to see jonghyun with a hand in his hair, phone next to his ear against the window. feeling clingy and most of all left out and wanting jonghyun’s attention to be on him, he pouts.
“jjong-ie.” he calls, louder this time, whining like a little kid. “come back to bed.”
“jonghyun? who’s that?” says the voice on the other end of the line. jonghyun looks kibum in the eye for a second, instantly warming. “that’s my boyfriend. i gotta go.” and then he hangs up and kibum is left to just kinda gape like a fish out of water. boyfriend. boyfriend. just the word makes his head spin.
“that’s okay right?” jonghyun whispers, tossing his phone onto the couch. he looks hesitant and kibum would get up and kiss the life out of him if he wasn’t so lazy. he doesn’t answer, instead he reaches his arms out and makes grabby hands at jonghyun across the room. the other boy smiles goofily and slips straight back into the bed beside kibum.
he doesn’t really answer jonghyun’s question, pulling jonghyun to his chest and sighing. they're not really dating. maybe they're not really anything at all. but kibum is jonghyun’s boyfriend now and he’s so warm and soft and everything else can wait for them to catch up. the world can keep spinning but they don’t have to move. jonghyun smiles into kibum’s skin and kisses his shoulder.
they're not really dating, but maybe they don’t have to. they can always write their own rulebook. i love him, kibum thinks. i really really love him.