kibum/kyuhyun | romance/angst | pg-15
kibum has always wanted to fall in love, but he suspects that he wasn’t made for it.
They bump into each other at the local mall out of pure coincidence.
Unless it’s Heechul, Kibum usually makes it a habit to ignore any other Super Junior members he sees—just to avoid any awkward situations, because he’s never been talkative, even back when he was in the group. But when he sees Kyuhyun that day, he doesn’t have the chance to look away and pretend he never noticed him, because their eyes lock, and Kibum freezes for a fraction of a moment.
The thing is, Kibum doesn’t bump into the other members that often. They’re out of the country more than half of the time, and even when they’re in Seoul, they go to completely different parts of the city. So when it happens, he isn’t really sure what to do.
Kyuhyun has his earphones plugged in, a hat pulled inconspicuously over his eyes, but Kibum can see them clearly at his angle—wide and dark and in that moment, full of unmasked surprise.
They close the distance between them, and Kyuhyun pulls his earphones out. “It’s been a while, hyung.”
“It has,” Kibum agrees, remembering his days spent with Kyuhyun. They were short and limited, but memorable, and it took him a long time to lock them up in the back of his mind where he can never see them again.
(The rough kisses under the cloak of darkness, nails digging into skin, teeth biting and muffled moans and oh, that fire in his veins that he hasn’t felt since he left—)
“What are you doing here?” Kyuhyun’s tone is clipped.
Kibum shrugs. “I need to buy a new suit. I have an awards ceremony to attend this weekend.”
“Ah. An acting award?” Kibum nods. “Your first, right?” Another nod. “Congratulations, then.” Pause. “You finally made it to the top.”
He snorts. “Hardly.”
(He’s on the computer, and Kyuhyun is watching television. They’re alone in the living room.
“Sungmin likes you,” he says with ease, scrolling through the page he’s currently on.
“I figured.” Kyuhyun sounds just as indifferent.
“Are you going to do anything about it?”
A moment’s hesitation. “No. Does it bother you?” It’s only been a few months since Kyuhyun joined the group, but they’ve formed a sort of bond—the two stoic maknaes that have everyone pulling their hair out in frustration.
“Would it bother you if it didn’t bother me?”
“No.” But Kyuhyun’s voice shakes when he says that, and Kibum allows a smirk to tug at his lips, just because the younger boy won’t be able to see it.
“And what are you doing here?” he asks Kyuhyun. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t one of the malls you frequented.”
He’s grown, he thinks faintly as the younger boy shrugs. “I have the day off, and it’s my sister’s birthday soon. I was just looking around for something she might like.”
Somehow, Kyuhyun accompanies Kibum as he looks for a suit. He doesn’t know how it comes down to that, but he’s not complaining—because everyone, even him, needs roots, needs something that connects him to the past. No one can drift around forever, without a face or a name. (Super Junior’s Kibum—that will always be who he is, whether he likes it or not.)
Kyuhyun helps him straighten out his tie, and tells him that red definitely looks better than blue. Kibum personally doesn’t care, but if Kyuhyun says it, it must be true.
“Can you help me button up these cuffs?” He’s never been able to do it. Kyuhyun knows that.
(It only takes a week of secret glances and brief brushes of the skin—one week for Kibum to corner him in the bathroom one day—or is it the other way around?—noses touching, breaths mingling.
“Sungmin-hyung likes me.” A statement.
“I don’t care. I like you too.” Steady gaze. Kyuhyun’s eyes are hungry, bordering frightened, and Kibum thinks it’s intoxicating.
Kyuhyun’s voice comes out barely above a whisper. “Does it bother you that he likes me?”
Their mouths brush, and Kibum suppresses a shudder. “Only if you like him back.”
Kyuhyun’s fingers hook onto the pockets of Kibum’s pants, and he pulls him closer so their hips press hard against each other. “I guess you don’t have to worry, then.”
It’s just a blur after that—a delicious, delicious blur.)
Their fingers brush when Kyuhyun struggles to button up the cuffs from his angle. It sends a distinct spark up Kibum’s spine and he doesn’t know what to do, because he didn’t think that he was still vulnerable to Kyuhyun. It’s been almost two years since he’s felt this way, and he figured—he figured that he’d be over it already.
He glances at him, and he sees a thunderstorm in Kyuhyun’s eyes, a tornado of juxtapositions and everything Kibum ever remembers wanting.
Turning his hand so it grabs onto Kyuhyun’s wrist, he says in a low voice, “Help me out in the dressing room.” The younger boy follows without question, allowing himself to be tugged along by Kibum to the nearest dressing room. Kibum feels his heart beating fast, the adrenaline burning in his veins the way they it hasn’t burned in a long time—and Kibum had convinced himself that there are people other than Kyuhyun that can make him feel this way, but maybe there aren’t after all—
(“We’re not in love.” He says this with resolution, and he watches Kyuhyun’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.
They are not intimate—they do not hold hands, do not share warm smiles. There are times when Kibum wonders what it would be like to fall asleep to Kyuhyun’s breathing, but then he remembers that it is Sungmin that has the luxury of sharing a room with him—and he shrinks back into himself, only reaching out to Kyuhyun for bruising kisses and painful tugs of the hair when he feels like his heart has been taped back together enough for the time being.
Kibum has always wanted to fall in love, but he suspects that he wasn’t made for it.)
When the door locks with a click, they stare at each other, not uttering a word. There are a million questions that Kibum wants to ask him—how have you been? Are you eating well? Just because you have contacts, doesn’t mean that your eyes are fine so tell me, how much did your prescription deepen this time?
They are things that he’s always wanted to ask Kyuhyun, even since the beginning, but Kibum has never mastered the art of putting his heart on his sleeve.
So he settles with this: “You got taller again.”
“One hundred eighty centimeters,” Kyuhyun says with pride.
He frowns. “One hundred seventy-nine.”
“With or without insoles?”
Kibum wants to smack him, but settles with kissing him instead. It’s just as good.
(Where have you been when the place where you belong is right here in my arms? Do I have to kiss you like this? Can I be gentle? Can I love you with what little heart I have left?)
Kyuhyun pulls away with a gasp, bottom lip bleeding and panting heavily. Kibum easily masks his guilt.
“Sungmin loves me,” Kyuhyun tells him, and Kibum feels like he was just hit by a freight train. His arms fall and hang limp at his sides, and he stares at him, wondering what kind of expression he should fake this time. “Does it bother you?”
A heartbeat. “Should it bother me?”
Kyuhyun takes his wrist and unbuttons the cuff that he did just moments ago, and presses his lips to the inside of his wrist. Kibum shivers. “Yes.”
He gingerly pulls his wrist out of Kyuhyun’s grasp, the skin where he kissed burning. “It doesn’t,” he says easily—flawlessly. He buttons the cuff again with little difficulty, and straightens the collar of his suit. “You said this one looked good, right?”
Kyuhyun is quiet, stoic—a good actor, but not quite as good as Kibum. “Yeah. It looks great.”
Smiling, Kibum pats him on the shoulder. “Come to the ceremony if you have time.”
He swallows. “Yeah. Definitely.”
yeah okay you can kill me ;___; the first time i write kibum, and it's angst.