종키

It’s unfair -

but I love you

AN:

This is the first JongKey I’ve ever finished (am writing more, but this is the first to get completed!) so I hope they’re not OOC, and that you can enjoy this.

Translations in case you need them :

Daruma doll = a Japanese wish doll with blank eyes – you fill in one eye and make a wish, when your wish has come true, you can fill in the second

Dubu = a sort of tofu

Jagiya = an endearment like ‘baby’ or ‘honey’

Maknae = the youngest member of the group (in this case, Taemin)

Omo = expression of bewilderment/excitement/surprise/…

Umma = mother (Key is seen as the umma of the group)

WARNING: boyonboy ^^

He’s careful. (Be cautious be cautious don’t break down.)

At first he felt safe and secure with every single thing they did. It was easy to hide his elation with every touch and the butterflies in his stomach never forced their way through to his mouth and he was so happy, so lucky for that. He hoped (prays prays prays sits on his knees until his thighs are straining and then prays prays prays some more) that he would find bravery and that one day, one day he would say something. (Tomorrow he says, tomorrow tomorrow maybe next time.)

Everyone noticed all the things Jonghyun could pull off that they couldn’t and what was worst was that with cameras on them all the time it was coming back to hunt him and when Minho noted that the only attention he ever reciprocates is Jonghyun’s he learns about lies, and how to tell them. (He used to be so open, open and out never lying always letting the truth flow but now he’s hiding and can’t stop.)

It reached its peak when he was browsing online and discovered that Minho was not the only attentive one, apparently so was every fangirl and he hopes (prays prays sits even longer and throws a coin in every fountain, fills in a daruma doll and hides hides hides) Jonghyun is not.

He’s become careful. (Be cautious be safe find shelter run don’t break down.)

He no longer makes awkward (strange push tug, this is my place) twirls to land next to Jonghyun, he doesn’t ask others to move over and he lets Minho sit between them whenever he can and whenever it’s not (suspicious odd noticeable why the hell not?) forced he even fits in Minho and Onew or Minho and Taemin. He knows he shouldn’t obsess about it and that he’s worrying for no reason but it’s a lie. (Not true not true work harder not true.)

He finds himself turning away when Jonghyun leans over to whisper in his ear and when his hand is taken and fingers twine with his own he works hard (make it fake it just don’t break it) to loosen the grasp and make it casual.

But it never really is.

He doesn’t laugh at any of the jokes—he smiles on the inside because he knows no one is as funny as Jonghyun and if he never laughs these days it’s still a whole lot less suspicious. He turns away from smiles, from winks, looks. (Make it work try harder don’t let up don’t let this go.)

It is, no kidding, the hardest thing he’s ever had to do and each time he feels displeased (he breaks and screams and cries, on the inside) with what he has to resort to, but he refuses to be caught, and can not have his true feelings be shown. (I love you.)

Jonghyun notices almost immediately, and the fact that the older boy can not merely be brushed off with an “I’m fine, nothing’s wrong, you’re being silly,” worries Key further. He’s afraid of what the gossip will read the next time. Does someone notice how close he is to cracking every time Jonghyun begs him for attention? (Turn away turn away, don’t feel the touch, don’t hear the heart, turn away, turn away.)

Onew comes to him after an award show. He is sharp and crude, to the point in a way only leader Jin Ki can be—he is the best leader because he knows how his team works, and playing nice never goes down well with Key, he tended to despise the others for trying.

He is accusing because Jonghyun was crying and Key wasn’t there to pick up the pieces.

“It’s not right,” Onew reprimands, “Jonghyun is your best friend, why are you fighting?”

Key wants to say that they’re not, but then he realises that to the others, this whole (don’t look now don’t look now he’s looking so don’t look now) thing must make it seem like they are.

He says Jonghyun is a big boy and adds a little bite.

Onew is not impressed, but he drops it anyway. Because he is a good leader, and he knows pushing Key isn’t going to get them anywhere.

That night Key reads about ‘trouble in paradise’ and he cries in the shower until it’s two AM and though he doesn’t have to explain himself to the others, he knows they know he wouldn’t even if they asked.

Jonghyun doesn’t talk to him the next morning. It’s the first time he doesn’t try to engage Key in conversation and he knows it shouldn’t but it (stings stabs hurts so much) bothers him.

Minho tells him to stop being such a prick. “Jonghyun told me he doesn’t know what he did, the least you could do is tell him,” is what he hears while they’re cleaning the table.

“He didn’t do anything,” Key says, and (maybe that’s the problem) all he gets is a blank look in return.

Minho doesn’t understand what’s going on if Jonghyun did not wrong Key. He talks about how they cannot be really fighting if neither did anything wrong, and if they’re not fighting, why does Key treat Jonghyun like he does?

Key leaves for the living room without another word and though Minho follows him he says nothing when he sees Jonghyun and Taemin in front of the television. He sits next to the maknae and gives the raven a defiant look, taunting (daring you to mention it, don’t try to break me because I will get back to you in ways you cannot imagine, fake it, I’ll make it) him to say anything.

Minho calls Taemin into the kitchen to continue cleaning up.

“Pathetic Choi,” he bites and means every single poisonous threat hidden underneath layers and layers of carefully laced venom.

He slams his door on the way out but only because it (now shares his hurt and he’s feeling his heart thump in his throat and he’s getting blurred by tears but he won’t quit, he will not give this up, not after all they have been through, they worked too hard to become friends he’s not letting his stupid stupid, kick drop roll, feelings mess it up) slips from his hand as he lets it go. (In reality it’s still right there and he feels it, every step of the way.)

He sits on the rooftop with his legs swinging and when he looks down it’s just a dark (dark dark soothing dark) abyss. He wonders about how he’s ever gotten himself in this mess, because he doesn’t want to lose Jonghyun and he wonders how pushing him away is helping him with that?

In the end he gets a little sick with himself (almost gets sick on himself too, but avoids the spill and lands it in a corner, hacking and coughing and hating himself so bad) and the idea of Jonghyun ever finding out has his skin curling. He decides that at least not having Jonghyun as a friend is better than having his loathing.

(He refuses to admit that loving someone should never turn out like this, that no matter his behaviour, his love for Jonghyun is still pure, but it’s so hard to do when it feels so tainted. And when he wets his pillow with tears that night, he can hear Jonghyun’s sobs and his heart heals and breaks all over again, because at least he’s not the only one that feels this hurt—but knowing that he is the one that caused it, makes it so much worse than he could ever imagine.)

“I’m in love with Minho.”

When Taemin approaches Key, the older is already preparing himself to run from the bathroom where he is brushing his teeth, until he hears the softly uttered words.

He expects a soft approach because even though he adores Taemin, the boy is always far too nice to him for Key to really appreciate his approach—he likes people with honesty and hard edges, and the maknae just never has the heart to let anyone down.

He does not expect the confession but knows he cannot possibly leave after that. Taemin is his friend, and apparently, in need.

He is prepared to open his arms in solace, to offer a hug or perhaps even soothing words because Taemin is still young and he is easily comforted by body warmth. Before Key can address the matter he is harshly reminded of that fact that although the younger needs someone to confide in, he is also on his own private mission—and it’s kind of (funny hilarious ironic I want to fall on my knees and cry) typical that now that he’s trying his hardest to get over Jonghyun, everyone is always there trying to mess up his plans.

“It’s really hard to ignore it when Minho-hyung is so close to me, as a friend and as a member of the team,” his voice is something of a little stern and a lot of heartbroken, but he smiles and means it, “I am so glad to have him as my friend, but the kinship drives me up the walls because I know I mean it in a way he does not. The difference between Jonghyun-hyung and Minho-hyung is that Jonghyun-hyung isn’t always the same level of affectionate. He’s even more affectionate to you when he thinks no one’s looking.”

His eyes narrow and he feels (betrayed betrayed betrayed why are they all out to get me?) upset that even Taemin—their maknae!—is using all he has to lure Key out. It makes it easier to snap, because with the boy’s constant innocence, it gets kind of hard to stay angry at him for a very long time, but now he knows he will have no problem acting as rash to Taemin as he did to Onew and Minho.

“What are you saying?” he sneers, urging him to get to the point.

He washes his toothbrush before leaving it properly by the sink, acting casual when his heart is (thrumming pounding shaking and twirling) beating a little faster.

Taemin says that he’s saying that his love is unreciprocated, and that Key has Jonghyun-hyung thinking his is as well. Key ignores everything that was not said between the lines and sends the young boy out with a withering gaze and a strong pointed finger.

There’s no hesitation, but even when Taemin leaves, he knows he has rounded up a world of possibilities in Key’s head that were not there before.

It angers Key beyond compare that whilst he is trying so hard to (hide ignore put it away in a box and never look back) keep his feelings to himself, somehow everyone is figuring it out anyway. Since when is everyone this good at jigsaw-puzzles? Did he somehow miss out on that gift when he was a child? Why is this not a strength he too possesses?

(Why is my puzzle the only one that never seems to fit?)

There is some kind of void in every conversation, and he feels constant scrutiny from all the members. They’re all there watching him, silently begging him (reprimanding and demanding) to change and fix the break-point but Key tries to not let go (he does not give up, does not let down.) It’s hard because when Jonghyun passes him the milk and their fingers brush he feels tears well up and everyone else is watching him so closely they notice as well.

He works hard and does not let them fall, but (thankfully, don’t let this cover blow but don’t let your heart break further, reach out take his hand) Onew stands with a deafening scrape of his chair and directs Key sternly.

“Ki Bum,” he says, and Key knows he will not be able to disobey, “come with me.”

Onew tells him there’s no need to cry as soon as the bathroom door is closed behind them and then there’s this sort of dam that breaks (collapses in its whole and completely utterly dissolves into nothing but dust and grime) and he’s sobbing into Onew’s t-shirt, strong arms wrapped tight as he shivers and shakes (and his heart breaks—so stupid).

“You can fix this,” Onew whispers, as if talking aloud will scare him off (and maybe it would, because the sound is soothing still silent), “please Ki Bum, you have to tell him.”

He gasps through the tears and tries biting away the pain but it doesn’t help (so weak so weak breakdown) so he just holds onto the t-shirt tighter and sobs even louder.

“How do you even know—“ he can’t finish the sentence. (I love you.)

“Ki Bum,” Onew soothes with just the mere whisper, hushed into the top of his head, “Ki Bum, Ki Bum, Ki Bum,” he chants it like a mantra (it’s so soothing, feels so good) erasing all thoughts with his angelic voice, “tell him.”

The words seem to echo in his head and for the next couple of minutes he sits there, face buried in wet fabric, figure rigid and breath coming out in soft pants. (Tell him tell him tell him just tell him.)

When he leaves the bathroom Onew’s voice is still ringing in his head and Jonghyun’s seat by the table is empty. His cheeks are still wet and he knows his eyes must look awful—they always brim red when he cries and he hates (loves how Jonghyun calls him adorable for it, fingers the corners and kisses his nose) that his cheeks don’t blot like other people because the red that circles his eyes after crying makes him feel like such an outcast.

Taemin gets up as soon as he sees that his umma has been crying but all Key does is mutter: “I have to tell him,” and beelines for the bedroom.

There is no coherent thought left in his head but “tell him” and he is rather relieved (relaxed, okay) because with just that one line repeating itself over and over again, nestling deep into his brain until it is the only thing left tangible and things like (rejection and pain and bite and bitterness) worrying can claim no space in his head.

Everything is dark inside, the dark fabric of the drapes overlapping and locking out any sunlight. The lights are turned off and as he closes the door the room seems to go even darker. He hears sobbing and his eyes adjust to the dim (“tell him,” he repeats, but only because he needs to hold on before he gives up) but he doesn’t really need it anyway, because he knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt where Jonghyun is and how he’s positioned.

He makes his way to his own bunk and from thereon moves onto the mattress lying between the two beds, and reaches Jonghyun’s place. He shivers when his hand comes in contact with the cold metal of the thin ladder, but moves up anyway, heaving himself into the top bed.

Jonghyun is curled up completely, a small light reflecting under the blankets that he has covered himself with, making a little tent (his safe haven, his shelter, used to be me) where he could hide in. His body quivers and his spine trembles through his revealed tank top, the white accentuating his skin and (he hates himself for noticing but…) his beautiful fingers curl into the blanket tight, keeping them over his face.

He sees the body tense as another weight lands onto the mattress but there are sobs and hiccups and (tell him) he just outstretches his body completely, and then easily melts it into Jonghyun’s, fitting his knees into his caps and pressing his chest into his back and their hips together and just like that everything clicks. (I love you.)

He feels the motions Jonghyun’s body goes through but then they still, and there is a deep intake of breath before there is nothing. Tentatively, he reaches to touch his hand to Jonghyun’s stomach, wrapping it into the tank top.

He hears a shuddering breath and knows Jonghyun is about to speak so he beats him to it.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “but I’m in love with you.”

His breathing stocks in his chest and his heart fails on him and at the same time (it’s beating, so fast so fast) his hand falls slack and his body snaps shut forcing more proximity he is pretty sure not both of them is willing to give and there’s (bile in his throat and God you’re disgusting) the pitter patter of tears on his cheek and he’s (crying again) weak but will not submit to it. (Pretend pretend pretend even if you’re not making it, don’t stop faking it.)

Fingers loosen their grasp on cotton sheets and Key is sure (so sure so sure I know I know please just don’t let go) whatever that means, it cannot be good. Then he feels skin to his fingers and he is shocked (heart stuttering too much too much) because Jonghyun is holding his hand in place and what does that even mean?

He curses himself for always standing in front of a mirror as a kid. At moments like these he wishes he had spent more time reading others, because in this moment he would value (safety security confirmation) knowledge over (curve this way move that way straighten your back nail the move) beauty.

“Ki Bum-ah,” though usually that voice sends him to cloud nine, without fail (the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard) it is now so broken (hurt creaking mangled, my fault) he wants to sink away through the mattress in shame of what he has done, “I’m sorry but I’m in love with you too.”

He chokes on half a sob and bangs his head into Jonghyun’s shoulder, growling (angry upset undone completely): “why didn’t you just tell me?” (“Tell him tell him tell him,” his head goes.)

“I tried to show you,” he cries and maybe (we’re broken) this can’t be fixed, “but you stopped trying!”

“I never meant for you to find out,” he admits (feels his chest collapse because it’s finally out), ashamed (embarrassed insulted disgusted, so wrong so wrong), “everyone knew but you, and I didn’t…” (don’t give up try hard), “I wasn’t right.”

“You weren’t wrong,” Jonghyun whispers (hoarsely, painfully), “we’re not wrong.”

It’s as if everyone in this world knows how to talk but Key—who is most eloquent and usually never shuts up—and it’s ironic in a way that makes him want to cry. Words are always leaving his lips but they’re meaningless while everything Jonghyun says (whispers shouts sings) is spot-on.

He is so right (good okay I love you).

“Are you crying?” it’s still broken but (more alright) stronger, and he feels shifting, indications of a will to turn, but he fits his legs into his tighter and refuses to let him, “Because I am.”

The blankets shift and he can smell the strawberry shampoo on the dark chestnut hair as soon as the cocoon is pulled away. His wet cheeks glitter in the light of his still-illuminated cell phone and he at them with the hand that is not touching Key’s.

“Omo,” he cranes his neck and though their eyes don’t immediately lock, they flit past each other and almost (but only almost) meet, “why are you so pretty when you cry?”

He closes his eyes, opens them and drowns (loses breath, fluttering heart) into Jonghyun’s, as if he’s swallowed whole never to return the same again.

“I’ve always been prettier in pieces,” he murmurs, mouths into Jonghyun’s shoulder and then hides (sinks in, deep, until he’s gone) into his nape.

“You’re prettiest with me,” it’s almost light as a breath, but so close to Key’s ear he hears it all the same.

He finds the secret content, gets the hidden meaning and suddenly, it doesn’t seem all that hidden anymore. Actually, it’s suddenly kind of silly because even though Key might’ve been obvious, Jonghyun was perhaps even more so.

It comes as a surprise that maybe (perhaps who knows might be) all those times Key was reading the rumours and cursing himself, Jonghyun was doing the same, albeit for a different reason.

It’s silly how little things like this almost got between them. He wants to slap himself in the face, hard, but then he realises that would perhaps be sillier.

Perhaps if there’s two of them, it will not be so wrong (disgusting).

Jonghyun attempts to move once more, and this time he lets him, albeit reluctantly. He relaxes his legs and lets the older boy slide out of his grasp momentarily, to turn around and face him comfortably.

They are both crying and in that way it is kind of (beautiful wonderful perfect) soothing. He is not the only one that has been touched by the events. (I am not alone.)

It’s not a lie when he thinks this is his first kiss (first first first and what a way to win the race) but he’s merely wistful when he hopes (prays prays prays with all his might) that it will not be their last. (He truthfully doesn’t care if he is never kissed again, as long as the only person to ever feel Jonghyun’s lips is him.)

There are like a thousand sparkles going off in his head and in that way, it is a little blinding because he sees nothing but white (so clear it might burn, so strong) and feels incredible light (like a feather) in a way he hasn’t experienced before. He imagines this is what a real kiss is meant to be like, because his lips create tiny patterns against the other’s in a way that cannot be described and just like that it’s pretty (perfect).

A mutual sigh of relief passes through them which kind of makes him want to laugh but he refrains, holds Jonghyun’s hand tighter, and presses his lips closer. (I love you.)

The next time they go out in public they hold hands and when the manager tells them to cut it out with the fanservice they just hold on tighter. He stops reading the gossip because he knows what it’s going to say anyway, and it’s okay because for once, it will be the truth.

When they give out interviews they make sure to sit next to each other and if Jonghyun happens to touch his thighs every once in a while Key just happily links their fingers or leans into him. The manager is displeased but their Dubu backs them up like it’s no one’s business and if Key never mentions how good a leader he is these days it’s because he makes sure to cook him chicken whenever he even has a slight craving and that says more than enough, because Onew always has a slight craving for chicken.

Everyone is waiting for something (anything all things), for some sort of love-confession or a public announcement. It doesn’t come, instead they just kind of linger in the in-between. Key doesn’t let anyone else grab his arm and cling, and Jonghyun is always all smiles, but smiles wider when with him. They watch Jonghyun stare at the clad in skin-tight jeans and watch Key gaze at the exposed chest underneath the too-loose tank top and they know it should be happening right about (now now… now) now, but they’re kept hanging there, the promise unfulfilled.

Not a week passes without the magazines having them as their cover. They are graced everywhere, splashed out raw, scenes of them holding hands, thighs touching, kisses pressed to faces. There are lips against necks and hands on arms and fingers trailing down spines and Key always stares because how could he not have noticed before? (We’re so pretty, perfect.)

The first time Jonghyun whispers: "jagiya, I miss you,” and kisses his temple, he is a little surprised. But then again, his temple is one of his sensitive spots and his Jong knows this and abuses this, all too well, so he just smiles and pecks his nose, their fingers linking as they bow for their crowd.

On stage, nothing much changes. When they pass each other they sometimes touch but when they realise the rise of squeals is solely attributed to their shows of affection they try to dim it down. They love each other but perhaps (maybe likely) they love their music more (I love you, sing for me, breathe with me, inhale exhale let go: “electric heart,”) and when they’re on stage, it should be about the words and the lyrics and the meaning (runs so deep, so true, never let go), not about whether or not they touch.

And if fans never happen to notice that these days, they only sing for each other, without having to literally see their crossing glances, it’s not their fault. (Because your voice is good enough for me and every single word that passes these lips is for your ears only.)

They never really cross a line and their lips never meet when there are people watching, but it’s only because Key is unwilling to share (mine mine mine) and he’s not ready to take the next big step. How Jonghyun loves him is for his eyes only and (it may be unfair but—) he still loves him, every single day, in return.

AN: I hope you guys liked this, and please let me know what you thought !

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