A/N: Okay, I am an awful human being. It has been God knows how long and I've only written one chapter for you guys. I'm so, so sorry, but hopefully I can get my priorities straight and update ASAP! Please enjoy <3

The following week seemed to elapse in the blink of an eye, and as Kibum was left trudging his way to school for the final time that week, he couldn’t help but reflect on how long it had been since he’d had an encounter with Jonghyun. Certainly, the two had exchanged a vast number of texts and phone calls over the time span between Sunday and Friday, but that didn’t compensate for the lack of physical contact and the thrill of genuinely seeing the other in the flesh.

Although Kibum had in fact been quite surprised at Jonghyun’s lack of hesitation in informing Jinki about their relationship status, he couldn’t really be irritated at either of them. Jonghyun had enlightened Kibum subsequently as to why he told the other singer, and despite the slight hesitation and trepidation he still felt towards the matter, Kibum understood. Jinki had been Jonghyun’s best friend ever since the latter could remember, and in spite of the thoughts majority of the population held about homouality in South Korea, Jinki, in Jonghyun’s words, ‘could be trusted.’

In all honesty, Kibum understood completely. A lone part of his mind was contemplating whether or not he should tell Amber about the development which had occurred over the weekend, but throughout the week he still hadn’t managed to come to a solid decision. He trusted Amber with his life. Whole-heartedly, he did. But the fact that everything had seemed to occur so rapidly still astonished Kibum, and so he decided that it would be best to allow their relationship to settle first in case things with Jonghyun regrettably took a turn for the worse.

When Kibum eventually arrived at school and entered his bare, vacant classroom, he slumped into his seat resentfully, knowing for a fact that this day ought to be as boring as all the rest. The only event that seemed to lift the drab, dull sheet engulfing the whole school was the arrival of Amber, who came bearing invitations. “Kibum, just the beautiful boy I was looking for.” she exclaimed extravagantly, sauntering up to his desk and planting the palms of her hands on the smooth, wooden surface of the table below. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Kibum rose an eyebrow and sunk deeper into his chair. A light silence hovered between the two as he scrunched his face in thought, but was as quickly replaced with Kibum’s equally as enthusiastic response as his features smoothened out in decision. “Sure am, darling.”

Amber grinned toothily before swinging herself around and sliding into the neighbouring chair. “Good. And feel free to bring Jonghyun if you want; the alcohol might have a positive effect on him.”

“You might pull a stunt like that, but I’m not filling Jonghyun with alcohol just so it’s easier to seduce him.”

Chuckles immediately filled the air. “Whatever you say, Kibum. But trust me when I say you’re missing out.”

Kibum merely smiled, the imminent guilt filling his stomach by the second not allowing him to say any more. He tried feebly to convince himself that it was best to wait a bit before telling his closest friend, but no matter how hard he tried the guilt still lingered, eating away at the warmth which had previously been inhabiting his insides.

The clock ticked by gruellingly, and every time Kibum risked another look at the positioning of the hands, it was as though they were simply moving backwards. He could make note of multiple times where he felt himself dozing off only to be nudged fiercely by Amber, and it was safe to say that Kibum was eternally grateful when the bell finally cut through the silent classroom and announced the freedom the students had been longing for.

Amber had told him that the invitation for him to sit with her friends was always open, however once again Kibum decided to avoid the looming concept by sitting with Minho and Taemin instead. At the beginning of the week, it was Minho who suggested that perhaps they should sit elsewhere for once, and from then on the trio had been eating their lunch beneath the shade of a large oak tree. It allowed them a clear view over the other occupants who raided the oval in their break, and although Kibum would never admit it, he rather enjoyed merely studying people by watching their behaviour from afar.

But perhaps by coincidence, it was on that fateful day when Taemin and Minho announced they needed to go to the toilet where Kibum was finally confronted by one of the football jocks whom he usually aspired to steer clear of. He’d simply been sitting there, eating his lunch and minding his own business, when the rather large boy swaggered over to the oak tree by which he sat, obviously looking for trouble. Kibum sighed, and although with reluctance, lifted his gaze to look at the towering male with scrutiny.

“Yes?” deadpanned Kibum, clear boredom shrouding his near perfect features.

The jock swayed in his spot, not out of intimidation but in a failed attempt to appear casual. He sneered at Kibum, and looked him up and down in distaste. “You think you’re all hot stuff now that you’ve made a few little friends, don’t cha?”

Kibum snorted. “Not really. Honestly, I always thought I was quite hot. But I’m afraid my image might begin to fade if people see you hanging around. Now, do you mind leaving? You’re blocking my sunlight.” Kibum emphasized his annoyance with a small flick of the hand, a nonchalant, smug smirk adorning his feline face.

The jock blanched but hurriedly regained his composure, knowing for a ground fact that the rest of the football team were watching with narrowed eyes. “Look here, . I don’t wanna be around your gay any longer than I have to, but I wanna set somethin’ straight.”

Kibum quirked a brow, encouraging the bulky dunce to continue. “Stop hanging around Minho. That ing fairy kid is bad enough, but now you? We don’t want your tendencies to infect our captain, so I suggest you off.”

It was really no surprise to Kibum that the football team would pull a stunt like this. He’d been expecting it a lot sooner to be honest, but he figured that the jocks thought it a better time than any now that their captain in question was preoccupied elsewhere. His lips were on the verge of quivering in amusement, but Kibum willed himself to remain stoic and simply glared straight into the larger boy’s eyes. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. All the way up there, and all. Would you mind coming a little closer and ceasing your incoherent mumbling?”

A snarl emitted from the footballer’s throat, but he nonetheless took a reluctant step forward.

“Is that all?” questioned Kibum with a laugh. “Are you afraid you’re going to contract my gayness? I thought you were stronger than that, bud.”

A great amount of pride was on the line here, and so with another twitch of disgust, a few more unsure steps were taken towards Kibum. “I said, stay away from our captain. He doesn’t need your gay hovering around and tainting him.”

Kibum nodded slowly in mocking understanding. “Oh, I see.” he began, shifting his weight slightly from his position on the ground. “You mean, like this?”

And with that final rhetorical question, Kibum launched himself forward towards the jock, landing a solid punch square in the face despite the obvious stature difference of the two. The larger of the two reeled back in shock as Kibum’s fist decked him in the cheek, but as soon as he’d regained his bearings he was swinging a bulky arm straight back at Kibum with ferocious speed. The feline boy was prepared however, and was already dodging out of the way of the fierce right hook before breaking out into a sprint towards the closest bathroom with haste.

Although Kibum’s strength was questionable, he took pride in the speed and agility he bore, already a great start ahead of the jock whose anger was practically radiating off him in small waves. Kibum prayed to all the gods above that he’d encounter Minho on the way, but luck it seemed, wasn’t on Kibum’s side that day. He faltered by the bathroom door in hopes that Minho and Taemin would emerge, but his hesitation was seemingly a heedless idea because the jock, despite his weight, seemed to be sprinting faster than ever.

“.” Kibum cursed under his breath, biting his lip and shifting his weight from foot to foot in patent distress.

His eyes darted back and forth, looking for anyone or anything that he might seek shelter with. Being an unsociable outcast like Kibum didn’t prove to be very beneficial at that particular moment, because although he had people in his life who cared for him deeply and wouldn’t hesitate in sweeping Kibum under their wing, none of them happened to be nearby – or even at his school for that matter.

Kibum made his final prayer before succumbing to his fate, and turned around to face the brute directly in the eyes. He dodged the first blow with a slight struggle, but his good fortune abruptly ended there and before he could even blink another was making contact with his abdomen. Kibum groaned and held his stomach in pain, cursing his recklessness and loud mouth with severe regret. He swung blindly, but in his state of pain, Kibum’s fist merely grazed against the footballer’s hulking arm. The jock shoved Kibum harshly, and the feline boy landed on the asphalted ground with a loud ‘oomph!’

Shuffling backwards on hands and feet, Kibum’s smooth palms became calloused with the bitumen’s rough surface as they carelessly slapped against the surface in consternation. He curled into a ball and attempted fruitlessly to shield himself from the jock, though his efforts were to no avail, and Kibum cursed for the nth time when a heavy kick made harsh contact with his shin. He had no idea how on earth he was going to explain this to his parents, let alone Jonghyun when he saw him next. He desperately yearned that the bully wouldn’t leave any visible marks, but to worsen his already minimal luck, Kibum was pulled harshly to his feet before decked in the cheek with a steam train of pure fist.

It was safe to say that Kibum was eternally grateful when a nearby teacher made his way between the jock and him, but the mental attack on himself made no move to halt for Kibum knew that he had acted rather foolishly. He endeavoured desperately to remove the image of his father from his mind and concentrate on the situation presented, however as soon as the jock began to speak, Kibum knew he was royally screwed.

“But sir,” he had begun. “Kibum punched me first.”

Kibum narrowed his gaze and glared piercingly at the larger of the two, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. “Oh off.” he grumbled. “You brought this upon yourself.”

His crude language earned him a reprimanding glower from the teacher, but Kibum couldn’t bring it within himself to apologize, let alone defend himself. He understood that he probably deserved to be in detention, but he couldn’t help feeling as though the real offender in this situation warranted a harsher punishment than him. After a few more pointless, meaningless words that flew past Kibum’s ears, the teacher let them go with a promise of after school detention, and immediately Kibum stormed off towards the only place he could think of.

The sound of loud footsteps masked with pure anger landing upon the linoleum floor filled the hallway, and although Kibum’s hair was ruffled beyond belief and blood was dripping down his chin, he couldn’t have cared less about his appearance at that moment. Ears burning red, he flung open the dance room door and slammed it behind him, slumping onto the ground as soon as he was left on his lonesome. Kibum’s eyes remained locked before him, staring at one small speck of dirt which adorned the pure white walls. He could feel his chest heaving in an attempt to conceal his ragged breaths, and albeit his heartfelt efforts to remain calm, Kibum’s eyes nonetheless began to sting in a mixture of anger, hurt and trepidation.

One by one, tears began to gently drip down Kibum’s cheeks and onto his neck, not halting in the slightest despite Kibum’s efforts to wipe his eyes. Light tears turned into heart wrenching sobs, and Kibum began to rock himself back and forth from his fetal position on the wooden panelled flooring in an order to calm his heavy tears. In spite of Kibum’s sore body and bleeding lip, his cries weren’t those of physical pain. They were cries of desperation, cries of desolation, but mostly, cries of a desire to simply belong.

Throughout his entire life, Kibum had taught himself how to be resilient, independent, and to quite honestly not give an ounce about what others thought of him. And he had succeeded – mostly. Up until this very moment Kibum had gone through jeers of discouragement, anger and disgust without any more than the twitch of an eye. He had lied to his family and friends to keep his demeanour strong, yet he’d never lied to himself. He’d never steered around the obstacles he’d encountered, nor postponed his trains of thought because of how distressing or uncomfortable they proved to be. He had accepted himself and who he was whole heartedly. And for the first time in a long while, Kibum wished that others would simply do the same.

It was like this, tear stained and forlorn, when Taemin finally found him.

“Hey Kibum, where have you been? We’ve been looking eve—“

Taemin stopped in his tracks as his eyes finally focused on Kibum’s lone figure by the corner of the room. The lights were off, and the feline boy was shrouded in a dim shadow produced by the drawn, tattered curtains. His face remained stoic, staring only at the wall across the room, and Taemin had to practically stand directly before him to gain any type of response.

“Kibum?” he whispered. “What on earth happened?”

But of course, having been victim to the ruthless hands of bullying many times before, Taemin knew immediately what had happened. He rushed forward and knelt down beside the older male, ignoring Minho’s barely audible gasp of astonishment as he followed behind Taemin into the room and took a glance at Kibum’s feeble form.

And although Taemin seemed rather thin and scrawny, he took absolutely no hesitation in grabbing Kibum by the arms and heaving him up into a standing position. “If we’d known this would happen, we would’ve gone to the bathroom later.” he spoke softly, grabbing a clean tissue from his pocket and dabbing Kibum’s lip delicately.

“Nah,” denied Kibum as he wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “I kinda brought this upon myself.”

Taemin tutted indignantly. “You did not bring this upon yourself, Kibum. Who was it?”

Kibum shrugged his shoulders casually, and peaked at Minho through the corner of his eye. He bit his lip in contemplation, and paused for a short silence. Despite how satisfying it would be to shed light on his offender’s true intentions, this was Minho’s friend he’d be dobbing on, and he couldn’t risk breaking up a friendship. After all, he knew how delicate they could be. And he wouldn’t wish that feeling of loneliness, that feeling of abandonment, upon anyone. No matter how awful their friends really turned out to be. “I don’t know. Probably a first year.”

He nearly snorted aloud at the concept of that brute of a boy being a first year. With his size, he ought to be a seventh year – if such a thing existed in the first place. In fact, Kibum knew precisely that the student who had beaten him up was indeed a third year. And he knew for a fact that his name was Shindong. But Kibum wouldn’t dare share that information without first considering the consequences.

Yes, he concluded. It was to the benefit of everyone if he kept this information to himself.

“What did they look like?!” exclaimed Taemin. “I betcha any money it was Jong Seok…”

Kibum shook his head fervently. “Uh, no! It wasn’t a familiar face.” he stuttered in defence.

“Well…” trailed Taemin, unsure of himself. “If you’re certain. Now c’mon, it’s time to get you cleaned up.”

Kibum followed behind willingly, albeit with a trudge, and purposely ignored the look of scepticism adorning Minho’s face. Taemin seemed to be leading them out of the school, and although Kibum would have loved no more at that particular moment than to ditch school, he unfortunately did still have a detention to serve. He couldn’t risk any more acts of recklessness to taint his previously flawless record, and so grudgingly, Kibum spoke up right before they passed through the school gates.

“I can’t ditch, Taem.” he pouted. “I have detention after school.”

Minho and Taemin gaped, staring incredulously at the oldest of the trio. “Detention?” deadpanned the youngest. “Seriously…what happened?”

Kibum shrugged for the umpteenth time that day. “Not much, really. I only landed one punch, but y’know. Karma’s a .”

Taemin sighed. “Well, back to math for you then I suppose. And…” he groaned exhaustedly. “Science for me. God darn it.”

A grin laced with a mixture of mischief and sympathy etched itself onto Kibum’s face. His tongue automatically began to poke out between his top and bottom teeth, and Taemin almost sighed aloud in relief. He was beyond glad that Kibum seemed to be back to his old self already, but he wouldn’t be giving up in finding out who did this to him. Taemin really didn’t understand how Kibum seemed to take these things so lightly. Maybe he’d just been dealing with it for longer than Taemin.

That thought in itself left the young dancer with a wretched feeling of guilt and nausea in the pit of his stomach.

The three boys parted ways as they heard the loud bell emitting throughout the school yard, and although Kibum was relieved at the solitude he now had, he couldn’t resist the imminent feeling of dread from rising in his gut. As he gathered his math supplies from his locker, his hand shook so badly that it took him multiple tries to actually unlock his locker correctly, and when he made his way into the math classroom, the need to vomit became all too prominent.

Shindong wasn’t in the class. That mere fact was a relief within itself. But the stares which followed him into his seat and studied his bruised face without an ounce of pity adorning their features were all too intimating. Kibum found his hand shaking as he sunk into his seat, but out of sheer determination willed himself to ignore the holes their gazes burned into his soul.

Class progressed infuriatingly slow, and although Kibum’s nerves calmed down considerably throughout the length of the lesson, his dread for the following detention only increased. The teacher had merely offered him a scathing expression upon walking into the room, and it was now more than ever when Kibum wished he was simply at home, in his room, wrapped beneath his comfortable duvet. It was with those thoughts of remaining in his soft, double bed with a mere book, hot chocolate, and perhaps Jonghyun for company when the bell rung through Kibum’s ears and pulled him harshly back into reality. A reality where he was about to sit through the most gruelling hour of his life alongside the residing jock who had basically only just beaten him up the lunchtime prior.

Kibum’s shoulders were slumped considerably so when he finally made his way to the detention assigned classroom, and when he eventually poked his head through the doorway it was with an insincere, sheepish grin adorning his features.  “Sorry I’m late, sir.”

The man offered Kibum a fleeting glance before immediately returning his gaze back to his paperwork. “Come in, Kim. Take a seat and do some homework or something, as long as you don’t make any noise.”

Kibum nodded and hurriedly made his way towards a seat at the front of the class, taking notice of Shindong in the back corner out of his peripheral vision. He dropped ungracefully into the chair and grudgingly slid his English homework from his bag to set to work, wanting no more at that moment than to curl up with Jonghyun on his couch while they watched scary movies. his lips, Kibum pulled his phone from his pocket slyly and hastily conjured a text, shoving it back into his jeans once he’d pressed send. With an additional, begrudged sigh, Kibum finally began to answer the wearying questions on his page, aiming to catch up on all of his homework in detention so he could have more spare time with Jonghyun later in the week.

It was around half way through his detention when Kibum began to feel as though someone was watching him. All of the signals were right – the hair on the back of his neck was standing up and he could feel gooseflesh forming on the skin of his arms. And so, with an air of caution surrounding him, Kibum carefully turned his head towards the back of the room to confirm his suspicions. Kibum gulped thickly as his eyes met Shindong’s piercing ones, but willed himself to ignore the brute’s menacing expression and concentrate back on what was important. After that particular fact was made clear to Kibum, it was safe to say that concentrating on his work became a lot more difficult. He finished it, but the remaining minutes of detention were quite unsettling nonetheless, and when the teacher finally dismissed them at 4:30pm Kibum was more than eager to race out of that classroom and return to the safety of his house.

Luck, it seemed, definitely wasn’t on Kibum’s side that day, and just as he was about to make his way out the front gate of the school, Shindong appeared apparently out of nowhere.

“Oi, .”

Kibum really shouldn’t have looked. But, being the idiotic imbecile that he was, did.

Shindong snorted tauntingly under his breath, however it seemed as though his amusement was running thin that day and swiftly he pulled the stoic masquerade back over his face. “You’re gonna pay, y’know. First you’re contaminating Choi, but now landing me in detention? I’d watch out if I were you, poof.”

Kibum his lips with a roll of the eyes. “You know, I’d really appreciate it if you stopped calling me like that. It’s getting old. And last time I checked, the decision of who my friends are is mine.”

“I’m just stating the facts, you gay head. And obviously it’s your decision. Ever wonder why you didn’t have friends until last week? ‘Cause you decided to ing , that’s why.”

Anger boiled in Kibum’s stomach as he heard the words, along with an excess of spittle, sloshing from Shindong’s mouth. Half of him was tempted to merely roll his eyes and walk away, but Kibum knew he couldn’t afford to get decked in the face again and risk anyone noticing. An abundance of clever responses began to immediately form in Kibum’s crammed mind, but before he could even word his thoughts aloud to the oversized dunce, another presence made itself known.

“Is there a problem here, boys?” came the voice of the same teacher who had supervised their detention.

Kibum exhaled and forced an artificial smile onto his slightly bruised face. “No, sir. Not at all.”

And Kibum thought that their quarrelling was over, and that he could leave without the risk of Shindong verbally harassing him yet again. But it seemed as though he was wrong, and despite thinking that Shindong would remain quiet, the brute instead chose to interrupt Kibum instead and shroud his name in a mound of grime and disgrace.

“Actually sir, there is a problem. Kibum’s been trying to…” Shindong made an implausible gagging face. “...come onto me. I keep telling him to keep his gay , I mean gay self, away from me because I’m not interested, but he just doesn’t understand. It’s seriously disgusting, sir!”

Kibum’s jaw dropped in incredulity. He felt an even deeper hatred for Shindong forming in the pit of his stomach, but couldn’t do anything except fumble like a fish in quest for a defensive remark. “I-I did not, you liar! Even if I was gay, which I’m not, I wouldn’t go chasing after fat dunderheads like you!”

The teacher looked back and forth between the two for a few seconds and sighed. “I’m sorry Kibum, but this is unacceptable behaviour.”

Gaping unattractively, Kibum rummaged to form an articulate sentence. “I just told you I didn’t, sir! Don’t you remember? He’s the one who beat me up today! Why are you trusting him?”

“Because Kibum, if I must be honest, his story is a lot more convincing than yours.”

Kibum felt his eyes stinging in humiliation and looked down at himself with shame. “You really ing believe I hit on him? You, a teacher, are blaming me simply because you think I’m gay? Is it because I dress nicely?” he asked softly. “Is it because unlike everyone else in this stupid school, I care about my appearance?”

His eyes lifted to glare at the teacher with as much venom and pure hatred he could muster. “Because if that’s why you’re placing these false accusations on me sir…Then you.”

And with that, Kibum simply turned around and began to storm away, not even offering the duo a second glance as he briskly fumed towards the front of the school. His burning gaze was met with Jonghyun’s astonished one, and it seemed as though he had witnessed the entirety of the conversation which had just occurred between him and the still unnamed teacher.

Droplets of water bubbled in Kibum’s eyes, stinging furiously as he met Jonghyun half way. He refused to let any tears fall, and bit his lip harshly in a way to distract his thoughts. If Jonghyun had seriously just witnessed that conversation, then he’d understand that Kibum was beyond furious at that moment and would give him a moment to recollect his composure. But Jonghyun was apparently more daft than Kibum originally thought, and placed a caring hand on his arm.

“Hey…” he started. “What happened? Y-your face, it’s bruised.”

Kibum’s shoulders slumped considerably. “It’s nothing to worry about, Jjong. Let’s just get going.”

Jonghyun frowned, and allowed his hand to run down Kibum’s arm soothingly before grasping their hands together. “It’s definitely something to worry about, ‘Bum. I heard what was going on over there. Are they giving you about—?”

The question was unfinished, yet both males knew what Jonghyun was referring too. Kibum could feel his throat tightening, and remained quiet in fear of bursting out into a waterfall of pointless tears.

“Kibum?” Jonghyun prompted gently, raising a kind eyebrow.

Kibum’s bottom lip trembled, and before he could even attempt to regain his thoughts and conjure a coherent sentence, all of his thought were cascading from his mouth in a sob. “P-People always assume things because they think I’m gay, y’know? Can’t they get it through their thick heads that I’m not going to do anything?! I’m here for the same reason as everyone else – to learn. Even the t-teachers don’t believe me anymore.”

Jonghyun pulled Kibum into a hug. “Well they’re a bunch of bigoted s, aren’t they? Putting you in detention and blaming you for crap like that…it’s disgusting.”

Kibum smiled softly, although it was partly forced, and buried his face into Jonghyun’s chest. “They’re watching us right now, right?” he whispered, although his words were muffled by the fabric of Jonghyun’s shirt. “Giving them more reasons to discriminate against me.”

Jonghyun ran his hands up and down Kibum’s back. “They’re watching alright. Good, I say. Let ‘em know you have a manly, tough boyfriend to put them in their place.”

The younger of the two snorted, giving Jonghyun’s thin, scrawny arms a little squeeze. “Of course.” he grinned, yet his smile slowly faded as he felt Jonghyun tentatively pulling away.

Jonghyun turned his head to face the teacher and Shindong, eyes narrowing in pure, unadulterated loathing. Kibum felt the grip on his waist tighten, although barely noticeable, and pulled his lips into a tight, thin line. “Jonghyun?” he questioned carefully.

Jonghyun returned his gaze to Kibum, features immediately softening in an indisputable fondness for the younger. He brought his small, yet masculine hand up to rest delicately on Kibum’s cheek, and allowed a smile to brighten his profile. Kibum appeared bewildered, but nonetheless sunk into the embrace.

“You know… You really shouldn’t let them get to you.” Jonghyun began softly, diverting his line of sight to glower at the teacher student pair once again. Shindong’s eyes met his, filled with contempt and disgust, but Jonghyun merely narrowed his gaze and turned back to Kibum. “Because if you can’t fight your problems, you may as well make a good show of them.”  

And then Jonghyun was kissing him.

Kibum remained still, frozen in place, and his eyes darted frantically to capture the reaction on Shindong’s distorted face. He saw the astonishment, the revulsion, and most importantly the abhorrence. He saw the utter repugnance and affront, and the way his lips sneered and his eyes bulged with rage.

And then Kibum kissed Jonghyun back, weaving his fingers through Jonghyun’s blond tresses and basking in the pure thrill and adrenaline of simply being himself. Of simply being Kibum.