ѕaru (x_saru_x) wrote in fib_jar,
ѕaru
x_saru_x
fib_jar

7+1 Short Stories

Title: 7+1 Short Stories
Pairing: Jonghyun/Key
Genre: Vignette
Rating: R
Summary: fickle. boisterous. drops. eggs. red. glossy. call. quiet.
A/N: I know, right! O: Hahah. I asked honeyflavor to give me a few words I could base short stories on, just for practice, and this is what came out :3 I know I've been horrible at keeping this comm alive lately, and I don't know when I'm going to post again, but I do plan on working on a weekly, chaptered fic (probably in July), so look out for that! Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :D




FICKLE.


Minho's fingers keep toying with the remote control, and Jonghyun thinks that, sometimes, kids just don't know when to give up. Even if said kids tower over him and own his ass at possibly every sport out there. He has every right to get slightly pissed off, either way. He's older. He knows better.

"I'm just saying," Minho starts once again, knee shamelessly nudging Kibum's, "watching the game together would be more of a bonding experience," he finishes and shrugs, the hand on the armrest still ghosting over the remote, the other one resting on his lap.

Jonghyun sighs and lifts his legs, folding them on top of each other on his spot on the couch. He's almost shrinking into his corner, slightly turning to steal a glance at Kibum, who's sitting right between the two of them. "Look," he says, going back to looking at Minho, "I think it's pretty clear Kibum and I like the movie better. The only one who's undecided is Jinki. Try convincing him," he says and almost huffs.

This is ridiculous. It happens weekly with no exception, and it's getting on his nerves. Football matches are not his cup of tea, and they always happen to be taking place right when some movie he wants to watch is broadcast on another channel. They also only have one television in the whole house, and Jonghyun can't find the reasoning behind that.

Four pairs of eyes turn towards Jinki, then, who walks into the living room with a glass of something fizzy in his hand. He stands still for a bit, as if to understand what's going on, and then breaks into a smile before lowering himself onto the floor, somewhat close to Taemin. "I told you, my vote is blank. It counts for whoever wins."

The thing is nobody is "winning", since Kibum is currently supporting Jonghyun and Taemin chose the match over the movie. Where are more members when you need them?

"Would that be me?" Minho asks, and Jonghyun rolls his eyes. "I don't know, it's just—" he scratches his chin with one hand and continues, "I usually eat my favourite mint ice cream whenever I watch a game, and I never object to share in such circumstances."

And Jonghyun knows he's fucked right that moment, because he feels Kibum shift next to him, and damn, if Minho isn't a dirty player. He knows the latter watches over the specific tub of ice cream like a hawk, and he also knows how obsessive Kibum can get about what he can't have.

"You know, the match doesn't sound half bad to me!" Kibum says with an excited grin on his face, eyes going from Minho to all the way around, landing on Jonghyun.

"You fickle bitch!" Jonghyun accuses him, mouth falling open in shock. A suppressed chuckle comes from somewhere in the living room, but Jonghyun doesn't care enough to investigate who and when.

Kibum's hand comes up to cover his own sternum. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

"Didn't the fickle part offend you?" Taemin's voice bubbles up, only to be hushed by Jinki's palm against his mouth, physically pulling him back. More chuckles.

There's a silent moment, in which Kibum stares at Jonghyun mock-scandalised, with a hint of challenge hiding somewhere in his eyes.

"I— You know what, do whatever you want," Jonghyun eventually says, hands almost at eye-level. He shakes his head and gives up, not failing to notice how Minho remains quiet, smirking to himself as he pushes just the right combination of buttons on the remote right before standing up and walking into the kitchen.

Kibum settles back into his spot next to him, as Jonghyun sighs and crosses his arms, providing him with a place to rest his head.

Sometimes he just can't win.



BOISTEROUS.


Kiboom-Boom says:
• hey!
• hey jonghyun hey!
• hey!

Dead Poets Society says:
• dear lord, what is it?

Kiboom-Boom says:
• wat u up to~?

Dead Poets Society says:
• ...I think you know what I'm up to.

Kiboom-Boom says:
• would it be too tiring for you to just tell me??
• hey!

Dead Poets Society says:
• we've GONE over this already, I'm in the bedroom, trying to seclude myself the best I can in order to maybe, maybe get some lyrics written.

Kiboom-Boom says:
• oh, kool!
• I'm in the living room
• but nothing's on tv
• and I've eaten pretty much everything I coud
• *could
• and the others are out for groceries
• so I'm bored
• could you pelase come out till they're back?
• just this
• *PLEASE
• just this once!

Dead Poets Society says:
• omg why do you have to start a new line for every single word? do you have any idea how annoying the notification sound can get?

Kiboom-Boom says:
• not my fault you're set to "away"!
• but anyway
• you didn't answer my question
• can you just come out?

Dead Poets Society says:
• ...

Kiboom-Boom says:
• well CAN you?
• HEY

Dead Poets Society says:
• kibum, I'm TRYING to write

Kiboom-Boom says:
• and I'm trying to get some of yourattention
• and it's not working
• CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT

Dead Poets Society says:
• god, just, please, let me work, don't make me block you

Kiboom-Boom says:
• blokc me?
• *BLOCK?
• srsly?
• why
• why would you even want to do that
• that's just breaking my heart rn

Dead Poets Society says:
• kibum, baby, please shut up

Kiboom-Boom says:
• OH NOW I'M YOUR BABY
• LOLKAY
• YOU'RE JUST GOING TO USE ONE WORD AND GET ME TO SHUT UP
• I SEE
• THIS IS ALL SO NOT DEGRADING
• OR UNDERESTIMATING ME AT ALL

Dead Poets Society says:
• what are you even saying

Kiboom-Boom says:
• RIGHT
• OKAY

Dead Poets Society says:
• jfc why do you have to be so boisterous, even on the internet?

Kiboom-Boom says:
• THIS IS GREAT
• boisterous?
• woooow, big fancy word! O:
• did you learn that from one of your heavy books, jonghyun?

Dead Poets Society says:
• fuck you

Kiboom-Boom says:
• I thought you weren't in that kind of mood! O:

Dead Poets Society is now Offline.

Kiboom-Boom says:
• LOLOLOLOL



DROPS.


Jonghyun scrunches his face up as the waterfall crashes down on him powerfully. Water is all over and around him, ice-cold and unnerving, and all he can feel is that he can't escape from it.

Nothing he can do.

He just passively stays still, taking it all in, immobile and helpless.

There's a shout in the distance.

He can't focus on it, what with the might of all this water covering him, clogging up his senses and fogging up his thinking, but he knows he wants to try.

He thinks it's calling out his name. Almost pleading. Jonghyun struggles to fight against his powerful opponent, and he thinks he manages to groan, loudly and wildly, and maybe he even delivers a kick, albeit nothing that helps him win.

Next thing he knows, there's a strong smack on his face, as if a brick wall fell onto him. When he even thinks about wondering where the brick wall came from, considering he's in the middle of a fucking waterfall, an identical hit lands on the other side of his face. His eyes go wide and his mouth falls open.

"Okay, seriously? I've been trying to wake you up for two hours straight!" Kibum yells at him, infuriated, and Jonghyun catches a couple of sighs coming from somewhere on his left.

Before his vision can go back to fully working, his palm comes up to wipe at his face. And, okay, either he's sweating like a horse, or he did take a trip to a tropical forest.

The answer he gets is c) neither, when another batch of cold drops of water land on his face, sprinkled by Kibum's fingers. Well, the fingers on his free hand, because his other hand is holding a half-empty glass of water.

"Get yourself an alarm clock," Kibum says before turning his back to him and walking away from Jonghyun's bed, seemingly heading towards the kitchen.

And Jonghyun is just abandoned like that, dazed and confused, with more whispers somewhere in the distance, and a stinging sensa—

"Kibum, did you just slap me?!"



EGGS.


If there's anything Jonghyun would be willing to protect even at the cost of his life, it would be his right to a proper breakfast.

Because if there's no proper breakfast, there's no power to keep his eyes open, and if there's no power to keep his eyes open, there is no will to get him out of the house, and if there is no will to get him out of the house, there is no way to make money, either. And apparently, there is no cohesion in general, judging by his train of thoughts.

That is why every morning is a challenge, in the dorm. Why Jonghyun has to struggle to make sure he's properly fed and caffeinated. Why The Eye of The Tiger starts playing inside his head the moment he walks out of the bathroom and makes his way to the kitchen.

“So kind of you to be up so early!” Kibum says, the irony in his voice unmistakeable as he sits cross-legged on the chair, hands around a mug of presumably cooling coffee on the table.

Jonghyun doesn't answer, physically can't, and simply makes his way towards the double-door fridge on the other side of the kitchen. He thankfully doesn't have to put too much effort into ushering Minho out of his way, as the latter steps to the side with a sneer.

“Minho, you foolish thing you, standing in the way of the sleeping beauty!” Kibum's voice fills the kitchen again, and Jonghyun makes sure to answer with an eyeroll that is visible from every corner of the room, before dipping his head into the fridge.

He spends a bit more than necessary looking around, thanks to how his eyes can't really focus properly, but eventually emerges with one egg in each hand — because, seriously, holding two in just one hand would be him challenging his luck. Hard.

He doesn't even really care about closing the door behind him, because he can hear somebody closing it for him, even over the sound of Kibum just yapping about whatever it is he's yapping about.

“...ass-crack of dawn to be ready and...” his voice keeps going on and off, and Jonghyun would pretend he really wants to listen to all the stuff Kibum is saying, but he doesn't, “...princess to wake up and take her sweet time...” and Jonghyun is already cracking the eggs on the side of the pan when the rant seemingly comes to an end, “...and then they call me a diva!”

And Jonghyun honestly just snorts at this, which basically makes a few of the other people in the room take a deep breath. So, basically, it isn't much of a surprise when Kibum is suddenly next to him, setting his mug on the counter and placing his hands on his waist.

“What did you say?” he asks, and Jonghyun just smiles and shakes his head.

“He didn't say anything, really, come on, let's just leave him to eat his breakfast in peace and just take off because we're already late, just, please,” Jinki joins the conversation, eyes on the clock on the wall and then at Jonghyun and then back on the clock again, and Jonghyun is sure he's about to start hyperventilating any second now.

Kibum seems unaffected by Jinki's pleas, however, to no one's surprise. “Why do you have to eat those stupid eggs, anyway?” he huffs.

“They help my voice sound better,” Jonghyun speaks for the first time this morning, much to his dismay.

“Bullshit!” Kibum says, then, after a few seconds of looking at Minho, as if looking for a confirmation.

And Jonghyun shakes his head again, reaching for a fork just before taking his dish to the table.

It's really maybe ten minutes later, when everyone filters out of the kitchen, with Jonghyun properly woken up and Kibum royally pissed off —and still flushed from when Jonghyun shoved the fork right into his mouth, just to shut him up— that Taemin approaches Jonghyun in the hall.

He generally stays silent, most of the times, and Jonghyun appreciates that.

“How come you're still willing to go through all of this every morning?” Taemin asks, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes amused but still puzzled. “Is it worth all the trouble?”

Jonghyun runs a hand through his hair and just says, “He that would have eggs must endure the cackling of hens. Quite literally.”

And it's moments like these that Jonghyun wishes he had a super cool pair of black sunglasses to cheesily put on.



RED.


Kibum is all about hues, brightness and contrasts. He's clashing colours from tip to toe; green kicks with purple pants, dark jeans with bright belts, deep red lips with pale skin.

Jonghyun lowers himself, elbows bending as his bare chest stops centimeters above Kibum's, noses barely bumping. It doesn't take long for his upper arms to start burning, but he wills himself not to mind. His stare falls on the pair of eyes underneath him, all too expectant, and eventually the proximity messes up with his focus.

Instead, he looks lower, all the way down to Kibum's mouth, because that's never been a tough thing to do — if anything, trying to not do so has been much more challenging over the years. Kibum's lips slightly part, then, as if on autopilot, and Jonghyun feels like they both slip into a familiar procedure; much unlike a routine, but very similar to a habit. Something that's theirs.

He dips his head gently, angling it just so their noses fit against each other, and his mouth finally catches Kibum's. His left forearm supports his weight against the mattress, and his right palm fixes itself around Kibum's cheekbone. He used to think that'd be a rather claustrophobia-triggering position for Kibum, but the latter had disspelled all his fears by expressing how much it turned him on (Jonghyun now makes sure to make use of that piece of information as frequently as possible).

And he knows Kibum will groan at the back of his throat if Jonghyun slips his tongue into his mouth, but he doesn't. His eyes are on a different prize tonight.

He therefore nips at Kibum's lips with careful teeth, tongue licking them in a comforting manner after each bite. Kibum sighs against him after every repetition, and Jonghyun decides it's enough when the hand around his neck starts squeezing harder. He pulls his head back, eyes meeting the other's only for a second before falling on his mouth, once again.

His thumb crawls down, resting on the lips that have been monopolising his attention for the last few minutes. "They're so red," he mumbles in awe, thumb nudging them apart lightly.

The corners of the mouth underneath him turn upwards on their own, and his hand stills when the lips actually start moving, forming words.

"So are you," Kibum says just loud enough, and Jonghyun notices how the other's teasing eyes are trained on his neck, where a set of nails has undoubtedly drawn scarlet lines upon.

"Oh." He smiles.



CALL.


Kibum doesn't even pretend to want to hold back an eyeroll when the phone rings.

Jonghyun untangles himself and sits on the edge of the bed in mere seconds. Kibum wants to stall him, to go all she can wait a few seconds while I finish kissing you properly, but Jonghyun's hand closes around his mobile before Kibum can do anything much.

The ringtone stops, and Jonghyun's voice changes a little as he says “Uh, hey,” sounding so weird, so not Jonghyun to Kibum's ears. He's silently pleased.

Kibum, though, never limits himself, always reaching for the very best, accepting self-assigned challenges. That's exactly why he shifts closer to Jonghyun, sitting cross-legged right behind him, making the single mattress in Jonghyun's bedroom dip. Jonghyun doesn't say much, mostly listening to the tinny voice coming out of the device, but his spine goes delightfully rigid when Kibum directs his index finger along it. He smiles when Jonghyun stutters all over his first word when it's his turn to speak again.

And, well, if Kibum's shorts-clad legs snake around the other's waist and his palms close over Jonghyun's ribs, Kibum can't make himself feel guilty when the flush that starts at Jonghyun's cheeks ends at his collarbones. And if Kibum takes Jonghyun's earlobe between his lips, it's not entirely Kibum's fault when Jonghyun's voice cracks while his tongue toys with the pierced flesh. And if there's silence on both ends on the call, Kibum can't help clapping himself on the back.

“Uhm, yeah, no, of course you have my whole attention,” Jonghyun seemingly manages to decipher the question he got about half a minute ago, and Kibum shoots his head back with a silent laugh. “Yeah, no, really,” Jonghyun reassures his mobile, and the last word comes out a bit croaky when Kibum's fingers playfully pinch his right nipple.

Jonghyun hangs up —or is hang upon— a neck bite, a hair tug and two minutes worth of awkward dialogue later, and when he turns to face Kibum, his face is a mix of feelings.

Kibum, of course, shamelessly looks like the cat that got the cream, and Jonghyun fails at a disapproving frown.

“Yeah, right,” Kibum says, long-drawn to hell and back, hands pulling Jonghyun down to, well, finish kissing him properly.



GLOSSY.


Back turned to the door, plugging his mobile charger into the outlet, Kibum hears the door open before he sees it close. Taemin and Jinki smile up at Jonghyun from their respective beds, both in the process of getting ready to sleep.

Jonghyun returns the gesture, hands behind his back as he stands next to the door.

Kibum offers him a puzzled smile, eyes obviously focusing on the general area of Jonghyun's waist, as if he could see right through it.

Jonghyun's stare awkwardly alternates between Kibum and the other two, only to sheepishly lock on Kibum, eventually. As if on cue, Jinki and Taemin turn away, not even trying to hide their grins, or even pretending they're not listening in. Kibum practically dies of curiosity.

“I just wanted to, uh, wish you happy birthday,” Jonghyun manages to say, moving just a step closer.

Kibum makes an amused noise. “You already have, stupid,” his tone loving, because how can it be biting when it's about his birthday, “multiple times,” he finishes, hand abstractedly gesturing towards the direction of the living room, cake-stained dishes undoubtedly still covering the surface of the coffee table.

“Yeah, but—“ Jonhyun says and cuts himself off, probably due to lack of smart things to say. He's being exceptionally cute, and Kibum is pleasantly surprised by the change; maybe those two bottles of soju did more than just buzz him.

Eventually, Jonghyun solves the mystery by thrusting one of his hands forward, presenting Kibum with a large envelope, unmarked apart from a To Kibum :) written on one side in black sharpie.

His lips fall open. “Jonghyun, you shouldn't—“

“It's nothing much,” he cuts himself off, eyes nervous. “R-rather symbolic, really,” he says hastily and steals a quick glance towards the left side of the room, when Jinki is supposedly reading a book, and Taemin is... diverting his eyes so that he's watching Jinki. Kibum is amused by all of this, but makes no comment as he accepts the gift.

“I would love it even it you bought me a needle,” he says while tearing the top off, and the weight startles him a bit. He enjoys teasing Jonghyun with fleeting looks way too much, watching him squirm nervously while Kibum takes the contents of the envelope into his hand.

“Jjong, I...” he stares at the large white font in front of him, the bright colours, the date; of course Jonghyun would go and spend his money on Kibum's favourite —and most expensive— fashion magazine, ordered right from the States.

“Open it,” Jonghyun says softly, eyes expectant, waiting anxiously for some kind of reaction.

And Kibum does, flipping to the first page to find a blue post-it note stuck right in the centre.

Happy Birthday!

Flip.

Here's to reading your own name

Flip.

Among these glossy pages, someday.

Flip.

Love and support you

Final flip.

Always :)

And Kibum can't and doesn't want to restrain himself from tossing the magazine onto his bed, reaching forward and wrapping himself around Jonghyun in a right hug. He feels shy hands reach up to hang from around his ribs, and a nose buries itself into his neck just as he rests his chin on a shoulder.

He cranes his neck before saying “Thank you,” earnest and grateful, into Jonghyun's ear and pulling back slowly.

“It really is nothing much,” he repeats himself after stepping back, “I just felt like it'd—“

“Jonghyun?”

“Yeah?”

Kibum, just, well, presses his mouth to the corner of Jonghyun's own. And Jonghyun doesn't breathe for however long that lasts, Kibum knows because his palm is on his chest, and the latter smiles against him.

“It was the best gift,” Kibum says as soon as he draws back, hand still on Jonghyun, and feels the other's heart start beating again. “Thank you.”





QUIET.


Kibum doesn't know what time it is, or what the weather is like outside, but somehow he's ended up mute on the centre of the dark stage. His flimsy tee is damp with sweat and clinging to his skin stubbornly, but he can't spend any energy to be irritated. All he can focus on is the serenity around him; the steady, silent pulse of the stadium, still beating even after they're done rehearsing. He can feel it where the stage connects with the underside of his legs, spread out on the floor, where his palms steady his weight behind his back.

And then there's this faint rustle, a subtle reminder that he's not alone, as a body behind him shifts from a sitting position into a lying one.

Kibum doesn't even think twice before letting his back fall backwards, soon hitting the floor. However, his head has a different fate, instead landing on something way softer, way more familiar, and Jonghyun welcomes the extra weight on his stomach with an automatic hand getting caught up in Kibum's hair.

They don't talk when Kibum turns his head to the right to face Jonghyun, but only smile softly, lazily. The fingers in between his locks move gently, and the massage on his scalp makes him groan in satisfaction. He wants to protest, just a little, remind Jonghyun that his hair is sweaty and messy, but he eventually decides Jonghyun wouldn't really care.

And then, then there's a presence above them, blocking any faint light coming from the lighting system above their heads, and Kibum twists a bit, only to find Taemin watching them. He is about to speak, mouth opening, but Kibum beats him to it with a finger on his own lips, silencing him. And, unsurprisingly, it works, Taemin's mouth falling shut. The real surprise, though, is when Kibum sees him lower himself onto the floor and, seconds later, there's a head on his shoulder, Taemin's nose nuzzling its way into Kibum's ribs. The fingers on his head never stop squeezing and releasing, and the breath falling on his torso keeps sending chills down his spine, cool on his damp skin.

Minutes later, and after Taemin's hand waves someone over, two other bodies join them, Jinki's head on his own palms, the lines of his body matching Taemin's but never quite touching, with Minho stretching his limbs all over the place on the other side of Kibum.

Kibum's eyes close on their own accord, then, hearing focused on the steady rhythms of the four different breaths around him, subconsciously trying to synchronise his own with them.

And when they all even out, the idea of falling asleep in a stadium apparently not even ridiculous to them, a hand on his jaw barely stops him from dozing off.

Turning his head for the last time, Jonghyun is there, watching him underneath hooded lids, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile. An index finger dips into the hollow of his jaw, not oblivious of his weak spots, and a thumb brushes against his cheekbone.

The last image he has is of Jonghyun, stare soft and sleepy, and then nothing pretty much registers in his brain, other than the fact that it's quiet.

It's quiet, and Kibum hopes that sleeping will make the moment feel longer.

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Tags: !standalone, f: shinee, p: jonghyun/key
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