“Drinking alone?” Kibum glanced up as Jonghyun slid smoothly into the bar stool beside his and signaled for the bartender with a swift flick of his fingers. 

 

Kibum shrugged. “Yeah.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have come with you. I had to go through three bars before I found you.” Jonghyun swiped a pistachio from Kibum’s bowl. Kibum sighed and pushed the entire bowl over to Jonghyun, and traced a finger idly about the rim of his shotglass, the untouched liquid within still b amber in the flickering lights of the small pub.

 

There was a companionable silence until the bartender set Jonghyun’s drink down in front of him, and downing it at one shot Jonghyun cleared his throat and draped a leather-clad arm about Kibum.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong.” Kibum dipped a finger into his drink and at it petulantly, like a child. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Jonghyun staring at him, pupils dilated, from under hooded, smokey lids. 

 

“Spit it out.” Jonghyun murmured, reaching for another pistachio with his free hand.

 

Kibum glared at his full glass. He hated how Jonghyun always seemed to know what was going on, but had never ever really caught on. 

 

He shook his head, but Jonghyun simply crooked the arm he had about Kibum’s shoulder, pulling him closer with a reluctant screech on the part of Kibum’s barstool on the linoleum. Kibum scowled and ineffectually tried to wriggle from Jonghyun’s grasp.

 

“What is it,” Jonghyun breathed, lips right at Kibum’s ear, one tanned finger slowly down Kibum’s thin cheek, trailing his neck, collarbones. 

 

Kibum shivered involuntarily, the vibrations from Jonghyun’s voice trembling down his spine, and in a moment of rash thoughtlessness he unattractively croaked, “You.”

 

Jonghyun didn’t flinch, didn’t show a single sign of surprise, didn’t bat an eye; his mouth tilted up into that crooked grin Kibum loved and before Kibum could inhale Jonghyun had wrapped warm fingers about the nape of his neck and leant in and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his mouth. 

 

When he pulled away, Kibum unconsciously jerked his head in Jonghyun’s direction, unwilling to let it end. Jonghyun smiled at him, puppy-eyed and warm and dark and comforting, as he whispered, “Come, the DJ’s playing my favourite song.”

 

Blinking through glazed, lidded eyes at Jonghyun, he let himself be tugged off his stool and towards the dance floor, into the mess of heat and gyrating bodies, anchored only by Jonghyun’s hand wrapped firmly about his own.