[Drabble/Teaser for a story I won't be making for a LONG time]

Drawing the most gorgeous person in the world didn't happen often, so I had to make it perfect. I'd be a lot more comfortable if I wasn't wearing about five different shades of pink, but I'd bear with anything just to see him smile. It felt odd holding the pencil and sketchpad, usually he drew me while I slept, catching note of every detail from my partially opened eyes to my wide nostrils. As he slept, he looked much more dainty and delicate than any newborn.

Looking back at our sketchpad, I wrinkled my nose in disgust. Despite my attempts to make it acceptable in society, it simply wasn't cutting it. 'Damn it, Kibum. Why did you have to go and wear a brooch on our first date?'

You are probably wondering what his brooch has to do with my picture. A lot, actually.

You see, on our first date 367 days ago, Kibum wore a beautiful brooch.

About two days ago, Kibum and I played a little game to see who remembered the most about our first date.

The first question was easy, 'Where did you take me?' he asked, looking mischievous as ever.

I replied, 'Basketball game.'

It wasn't really a date, none of our dates ever were.

We just watched our friend, Jinki, and Kibum's older brother, Minho, play against our schools biggest rivals in an all or nothing match.

But, he considered it a date.

Maybe because I acted like it was. Opening doors, buying him dinner (McDonalds~!) and walking him home, giving him a friendly hug goodnight.

The day after, he pecked me saying, 'You are such a good boyfriend, Jjong,' completely out of the blue.

I mean, not completely.

My younger brother, Taemin, told me Kibum fell for others easily, but this, this was unexpected.

Yet, I played along.

And somewhere along the year, I began to fall as well.

Slipping from our skin shipping friendship, to a territory that made my heart swell bigger than the Grinch's.

But enough of that. As I was saying, Kibum's brooch is a .

And the reason why I'm wearing his clothes, and he's wearing mine. 

During our trivia session, Kibum asked the most inane question. A question that got me tongue tied and forced to switch wardrobes for a week.

'What color was the brooch I wore?'

Damn.

He only wore it once, and expected me to answer.

But, I gave him such a confident smirk, he looked uneasy, scared he would lose the game.

My answer wasn't far off.

'Pink,' I said.

Everything he wore was pink, so technically, I was right.

But, perfect little Kibum wanted specifics.

And... I couldn't give him that.

'No! It was fandango. Pink, with a hint of blue, and red!' He exclaimed; it was his turn to smirk.

'Now here's your punishment...' He whispered, dexterous hands massaging my bony shoulders as he stood behind me.

'You must wear... my clothes for a week. I know how much you hate pink and quite frankly, I don't care.'

Damn it fandango, damn it.

Well, after giving him the puppy dog eyes for two hours, he caved and decided he would wear my 'ugly' clothes so we could become even closer as a couple. (And I didn't know if that was possible. Being guys, we've already seen each other pee...)

It was stupid, and infantile, and cliché, and so... Kibum.

Presently, though, Kibum decided that we would also do things the other was really good at, which is why I'm failing drawing him.

He had been playing the guitar earlier, but broke his nail, got lazy and decided he would resume strumming after a nap.

"Jjong?" his somnolent voice broke me of my reverie.

"Hey, you feeling better?" I asked, pushing the hood of my black jacket off of the baseball cap he donned. I never noticed I dressed in so many layers. Odd.

"Neh. What about you?" he asked, rubbing his eyes with his slender fingers, each nail colored with sparkly black polish. I allowed him to break that part of our contract, because there are two things you can't do in life.

One, seperate Kibum from pink.

Two, stop Kibum from painting his nails.

Nodding, I gave our sketch pad my attention once more.

I couldn't show this to him.

He'd hate it.

And dump me for making him look grotesque.

This wasn't Kibum.

This couldn't even be Kibum's trash.

Gosh, why is he so perfect?

With his perfect mouth and perfect nose and perfect eyes (that were illegally lined with black eyeliner. Don't think I didn't notice, Bummie!) and perfect cheeks and perfect everything.

"Gahh~!" I yelled, thinking so much about Kibum, I forgot he was right in front of me.

He jerked, and looked at me with a penetrating gaze.

"Kekeke," I laughed awkwardly, the atmosphere suddenly very stuffy.

He crossed his jersey short clad legs, the black trousers almost to his ankle as he folded his arms.

"What're you thinking about?" he quipped, his cotton candy lips and accent, greatly contrasted his outfit.

"Noth- wait, Kibum stop!" He reached and pulled the sketch pad toward himself, his gaze softening as he saw my picture.

"Hahahaha~" Well thanks, Bummie.

His loud laughter echoed around the garden, causing birds to chirp, dogs to bark and neighbors to reprimand.

"You are so funny, Jjongie. Now, where's the real picture?" He asked, his words striking me right in the chest.

Scratching the back of my neck, my words were hushed. "That is the real picture..."

I heard a cute little grumble, and Kibum was now sitting on my lap, his legs straddling my chair.

"Speak up, jebal?" He commanded, touching my bottom lip with the tip of his nail.

"Kibum, dear, that is the picture. I'm sorry it looks so ugly, but I'm not an artist and your just so gorgeous an-" I felt his soft lips prod against mine and everything became pure bliss.

"It's great, hyung." He said, pressing his forehead on mine. He never called me 'hyung', except when he was being really serious.

Shining irises connected and we kissed once more before I had an epiphany.

"Do you like tuna?" I asked, looking up at him with big curious eyes.

"What?" He furrowed his thick black eyebrows. "No, why are you asking me that?"

"You're a cat." I pointed out as he rolled his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

"And you're a dog. Does my baby want kibble? Or does he want a big juicy bone, instead?" He teased, poking my left nostril.

"Aish, Kibum..."

"And I love you too," He taunted, clasping his hands behind my neck.

"I never said I loved you."

"But you will," there was that grinning kitten that I came to like.

Love doesn't exsist, but that's a whole other story.

{And dats it~! Yeah... I'm fairly proud of this. For a girl who has been told her sister and mother were the only writers in the house and she should just be an artist, I did pretty darn well. ^^ I'm going now, if Jjongie-umma wasn't at school, she'd be chastising me for being on when I should be working. TTYL}