Kibum does not actively make a habit out of hating others. He is under the firm conviction that if he despises someone to such an extent, they're simply not worth wasting the energy and effort on, so he just doesn't bother. Thus, the list of people he actually, genuinely hates is short, and the people on it are there for good reasons.

One of the top spots on this list is occupied by one Kim Jonghyun. Jonghyun, who is currently standing in front of Kibum, appearing to be just as dumbfounded as Kibum feels. He looks... the same. Like he did when Kibum saw him last – wide puppy eyes, chiseled jaw, lips slightly up-curled at the corners even as they hang open in surprise. His face is probably a little more angular than it was back then, though, his chest and shoulders a little broader, his arms a little thicker. Not that Kibum has been checking him out or anything. He doesn't completely hate himself.

“Uhm,” Jonghyun says, first to break the tense silence. “Hi?” Kibum resists the urge to roll his eyes and repeat the word back to him in a mocking tone, but only just barely. He is an adult. He crosses his arms as a means of protection, of defense, as he feels Jonghyun's gaze sweep over him to eventually settle on a point above his face. “You dyed your hair.”

“I did.” Kibum has dyed and re-dyed his hair many times. In fact, he can't think of a single color he hasn't donned at some point in the time that have passed since the last time they talked to each other. Right now it's black. Jonghyun's is a peachy pink, and Kibum feels both pleased and angry – pleased because he's the one, who first introduced Jonghyun to the wonders of bleach and dye when they were in high school and eager to stand out in a crowd of uniform-clad kids. Angry that he's pleased. He was supposed to leave these feelings behind with the aforementioned uniform.

But here comes Kim Jonghyun to up the way he tends to do best, softening that stupid, stricken expression into a smile and pushing his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. “You look good,” he says, and Kibum wants nothing more than to reach across the counter and give him a slap across the face. Grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Yell at him that he can't just waltz back into Kibum's life after seven years of silence and act like everything is the way it used to be, not when Kibum has spent all this time trying to forget Kim Jonghyun and everything he is.

“I know. What do you want?”

Jonghyun doesn't look fazed by Kibum's cold tone. Then again, he never was. “Coffee?” he says, and Kibum is about to sneer and decline, but it strikes him that it's not a proposition. It's an order. This is a coffee shop, Kibum works here, and Jonghyun most likely didn't come in here to antagonize him, he just came to get a caffeine fix. The fact that he just so happened to choose Kibum's work place out of all the coffee shops and cafes in the city is just a coincidence. An unfortunate one. So, Kibum pulls himself together, puts on a more professional face, and steps up to the register. Jonghyun's one somewhat redeeming quality is his blessedly simple order.

Later, when Kibum is steaming milk for another customer's latte, Minho comes up next to him and bumps their shoulders together. “Who was that guy?” He inclines his head in the direction of one of the tables towards the back end of the shop. Kibum knows exactly who he's referring to without even looking, but Minho still goes through the trouble of elaborating: “The little, brawny one that made you look really constipated, especially when you had to call out his name.”

“ off,” Kibum mumbles, but he doesn't manage to put any of the usual bite into his words.

He can feel Minho's eyes on him, probing. “He's so tiny,” Kibum hears him muse. “He reaches up to, like, my knee. I could probably squish him with one arm tied behind my back.” He's still casting fleeting glances at Kibum, as if silently asking do you need me to? Because although the two of them don't see eye to eye most of the time, Minho seems to have reserved the exclusive right to be a pestilence in Kibum's life for himself, and if anyone else bothers Kibum, he's going to make sure they never as much as think of attempting that again. He has this way of acting like an older brother even though they're the same age, even though Minho is technically younger.

Minho is staring like he's just waiting for the signal to pounce. Kibum shoves him with his hip. “Stop flexing your muscles and go make some coffee, you big meathead,” he says. Thanks for worrying about me, he doesn't say because this is Minho, and they only know how to speak in banter. I'll be okay, he also doesn't say, but that's because he's not so sure about that.

Kibum expects that to be the last of it, an isolated incident of Blast From the Past that he will be able to quickly forget all about so he can move on with his life. Of course he's not that lucky. Of course Kim Jonghyun is waiting for him after work, leaning against the side of the building in all his casual, stupidly good-looking glory as Kibum walks out the cafe doors. Kibum wants to ignore him and keep walking, but his body, the traitor, stops him in his tracks.

Jonghyun quickly spots him and perks up. He drops his cigarette on the ground and stomps it out, then comes rushing towards Kibum like an overeager puppy. He hasn't changed one bit. “Hi.”

It takes a few moments for Kibum to find his words, and even then, what comes out is not what he would have preferred to say. “I thought you quit smoking.”

“I did,” Jonghyun says with a sheepish grin. “Past tense.” He's so stupid and smiley and here. He's here, and he's exactly like he used to be, and Kibum can't ing stand it.

“Why the are you here?” he blurts out.

Jonghyun looks taken aback, just for a moment, then responds: “I've been waiting for you.”

Kibum gives him a skeptical onceover. “I can't tell if that's the prelude to some sort of well-crafted master plan involving lasers and a pit of piranhas, or if it's just really creepy and stalker-y. Both?”

“What? No! No, I just...” Jonghyun chews on his bottom lip. Kibum tries to convince himself that it doesn't do anything for him. “I really wanted... needed to talk to you.” Kibum crosses his arms. Jonghyun clears his throat. “I mean, please let me talk to you for a moment?”

A huff escapes Kibum. “Oh, so now you want to talk, huh? After you, you know, completely stopped answering my texts and calls and voice mails from one day to the next without warning?”

Jonghyun shoots him those ing puppy eyes, and, God, Kibum really does not want to feel any sort of way about him anymore other than spite, but it's hard. It's so hard. “I know I'm an ,” Jonghyun says. “And that is exactly why I would very much like the opportunity to explain.” Kibum narrows his eyes, and, in response, Jonghyun widens his. “Please? For old best friends' sake?”

Kibum shouldn't. Getting himself back into this mess is only going to make him feel like all over again. Kibum shouldn't. “Okay.” . “You can walk me to the station.”

The distance from Kibum's work place to the subway isn't long, a ten minute walk at the most. Today, walking next to Jonghyun, it feels like miles. Every now and again, Kibum sees a glimpse of Jonghyun's profile in his peripheral vision or catches a whiff of his cologne (his choice of that hasn't changed, either, except he seems to be wearing a normal amount rather than half a bottle), and he is once again reminded why being friends with Kim Jonghyun was so difficult. “I said I wanted to explain, but I don't know where to begin,” Jonghyun says with a sheepish laugh. “It's been a while.”

Kibum lets out a noncommittal noise. They've come to a stop at a crosswalk, and he's keeping his eyes fastened on the red light. “And whose fault is that?”

“One hundred percent mine,” Jonghyun says without hesitation. “I was the one who ed up.”

What else is new, Kibum thinks to himself, but he doesn't say it out loud. It's too easy to slip back into what they used to be, playful bickering and banter. It's too easy to forget that 'best friends' was seven years ago when Jonghyun was well on his way through college entrance exams, and Kibum was a high school kid with an unfortunate habit of developing crushes on straight guys. The light turns green, and Kibum starts walking without waiting for Jonghyun to catch up. “I feel like we already established that. I'm still waiting for the explanation I was promised.”

“I know,” Jonghyun says. “I know.” The corners of Kibum's lips pull down. This really was a terrible idea. This is like picking at an old wound that has already scabbed and dried and flaked and healed. Kibum should never have agreed to do this. “Listen, I–”

“Time's up,” Kibum cuts him off as he stops at the entrance to the subway. He looks at Jonghyun, trying to pretend that his pitiful expression doesn't affect him in the least. “This is where I get on, and where our conversation ends. Good talk, buddy.” Kibum turns to leave, but is stopped by Jonghyun grabbing his wrist. It makes him feel like a drama heroine. He hates it.

“Wait.” And Kibum does, despite himself. “Can I see you again?”

Kibum swallows the urge to immediately agree. He just purses his lips instead, trying to put on an air of indifference. “It's a free country, I can't tell you what you can and can't do.”

For a moment, Jonghyun is silent. Then he lets out a short laugh. “You really haven't changed.” Kibum isn't foolish enough to mistake the tone of his voice as fond, and yet. And yet... He turns back around to look at Jonghyun, eyebrows raised in question (heart pounding in his chest, Jonghyun's hold on him positively scorching). “I want to know if it's alright with you if I come back here to see you,” Jonghyun elaborates. “If you say no, I promise I won't ever set foot in that coffee shop again. I'll walk away right now and accept that I ed up beyond redemption.”

“You still owe me that explanation,” Kibum says slowly. “I guess I probably shouldn't cut you out of my life completely until you've at least given me that.” In retrospect, there are a lot of things Kibum should and shouldn't have done. Agreeing to hear Jonghyun out belongs in the latter category, because when he smiles widely, filled with hope, it feels like a stab in Kibum's chest. He pulls out of Jonghyun's grasp. “I probably shouldn't, but I have to. I'm not doing this to myself anymore.”

“Oh.” Jonghyun looks so confused, so dejected.

Kibum feels bad for turning him down, but only for a moment, then he manages to pull it together and stands a little straighter, crossing his arms over his chest to keep himself from reaching out for Jonghyun again. “Any last words before I go?” He'll at least give him that. For old best friends' sake, as Jonghyun had so eloquently put it. The thought nearly makes Kibum laugh. What kind of best friend goes off to college and cuts off all contact with their stranded high school buddy? Of course Kibum understands that it's only natural for people, for friends, to grow apart, especially when they reach that age, but not like that. Not the way Jonghyun made it happen.

Jonghyun opens and closes his mouth several times, like he has something to say but isn't sure how to phrase it. That's certainly something new, Kim Jonghyun not knowing what to say. “First and foremost,” he finally speaks. “I'm sorry. I don't think I ever actually said that to you.”

“Right,” Kibum agrees. “You didn't. Is that all? I have a train to catch." He could easily just get the next one, but Jonghyun doesn't have to know that. Kibum just wants to get out of here so he doesn't have to think about Jonghyun and his stupid puppy face anymore.

Once again, Jonghyun does that thing where he looks like he's searching for his words, and Kibum is about to speak up to tell him that he's going to leave if he doesn't have anything else to say, but then Jonghyun exhales a huff of laughter and blurts out: “I was in love with you?” It seems to be phrased almost like a question, incredulously, like he can't believe that he's saying this.

Kibum can't believe it either. “Bull,” he breathes out, eyes wide. His heart is pounding even harder now, but he doesn't ing believe it. There's no way, no way it's true. It's just a desperate attempt at luring Kibum back in again, it has to be. It has to.

Jonghyun makes a defeated gesture with his arms. “I was in love with you,” he repeats, this time sounding more sure of himself. “And I was so ing scared.”

“So you figured the best course of action was to cut me off and pretend I didn't exist?”

“Fear makes people do stupid things,” Jonghyun says, and now Kibum is the one who's at a loss for words. “I know it's pretty unfair for me to drop this on you, especially in a place like this.” Kibum remembers that they're standing by a subway entrance. Very much in public. Definitely not the best place to have this conversation. He swallows, suddenly feeling exposed. “I just felt like I needed to explain myself, in case you never want to talk to me again. Which seems very likely right now.”

Well. Kibum can't disagree with that. He didn't even really want to talk in the first place, but he has always been so incredibly quick to give in when it comes to Jonghyun, so weak. He lets out a tired sigh. This whole Feelings thing is exhausting. “What do you want from me?”

“I don't really want anything, really,” Jonghyun says. “Just to tell you that it's not your fault? And maybe a small, over-optimistic part of me was hoping we could try being friends again?”

That just makes Kibum even more conflicted. Friends. Is he brave enough to put his trust into Jonghyun once more when he has been so thoroughly ed over in the past? Can their old relationship be salvaged or would they have to start over from scratch to build up the close bond they had created over the many years they were best friends? Does he even want to be friends again? It's all too much to think about, too confusing. Kibum can't do this right now.

Jonghyun looks like he's prepared for rejection. He does not look like he's prepared for Kibum ing his phone in his general direction. “Give me your number,” Kibum demands. “I need some time to consider things. I'll call you if I feel like it.” He makes sure to keep his tone purposely cold and detached so Jonghyun doesn't expect too much. The smile on Jonghyun's face as he keys his number into Kibum's phone makes Kibum's chest ache, and he hates that, too.

~*~

A/N: I haven't written anything shinee in actual years so I have no idea if this is wildly out of character, but, welp, here it is either way. I don't know if I really need to say this or if you managed to piece it together yourself after seeing the lack of "completed" and also the lack of a proper ending, but this is going to be a (short) chaptered story. unfortunately, this isn't the end of it. so if you want more c-grade jongkey, go ahead and stick around for the next chapter. it'll be up in a few days. \o/