"Well, well, well..." Mr. Park put his hands on the table, locking them together in a businesslike manner. "Who have we got here... Lee Jinki and Kim Kibum! Never thought I would have the pleasure of having you two dragged into my office like a pair of stubborn cows!" The two boys in question threw accusatory glares at each other. "Hm... What crime did they commit?" He inquired, looking at Jonghyun.

"They've been at loggerheads for weeks and today I caught them writing obscenities on the blackboard, sir."

"Hm... What kind of obscenities?"

"They called each other names, sir."

"What names?"

Mr. Park seemed really curious to know what those boring individuals, neither of them known to be rebels, could have come up with.

"Well, Kim wrote 'Lee Jinki is', er..." Jonghyun's lips trembled. "'...a fart.'"

Headmaster clicked his tongue, shaking his head reproachfully.

"And what did our chess genius Jinki write? Please, be precise."

Jonghyun coughed into his fist.

"Lee wrote that Kim was... ahem... a 'ting '." By this time his face was beet-red from the laughter suffocating him from within.

"Aigoo-aigoo..." Mr. Park sighed, shaking his head. "You may run to your class, Jonghyun. I think I've heard enough."

"Thank you, sir!" the boy squeaked, bolting to the door like his life depended on it.

A few seconds later his hysterical laughter could be heard from behind the closed door. It didn't make the atmosphere inside the room happier, though. The two culprits stood staring at their shoes, their breathing heavy with indignation.

"To be honest, I expected something more literary from you, Kibum," headmaster teased with a wrinkly wink.

"I wasn't given enough time to express my thought fully, sir," the boy answered, mustering up courage.

Mr. Park laughed.

"And you, Jinki? Why was your choice of words so poor?"

"The subject was not inspiring enough, sir," Jinki replied, leveling his skewed glasses.

The older man laughed again, throwing his head back, before he concluded in a more professional tone:

"You guys are sure very funny, but, if you've been quarreling for weeks, it needs to be stopped. I'm afraid I'll have to invite your parents over."

"My mom is out of town this week," Kibum said quickly.

"And mine is busy at the shop," Jinki added.

"Your mothers are both very pleasant and understanding women, but I would like to meet your fathers specifically."

Both boys gulped and shot panicked looks at each other. Jinki was wringing his hands hopelessly while Kibum, with eyes rounded in fear, watched Headmaster flipping between the pink pages of something that looked very much like a phone book. Think of something, think, you stupid nerd!

"With all due respect, Kim Jonghyun misunderstood everything!" Kibum cried, taking the matter in his own hands as he saw that the "stupid nerd" was too busy cowering in fear to be racking his brains.

Mr. Park took his eyes off the phone book.

"Really? How?"

"We are best of friends! Jinki and I are inseparable! We just love teasing each other, right, hyung?!" With a desperate effort, Kibum threw an arm around his enemy's shoulders, squeezing them tightly.

"Oh, y-yes, we really do!" Jinki cried, finally joining the self-rescuing operation.

He embraced Kibum by the waist awkwardly, making him wince: his hand somehow slid beneath his shirt, landing on bare skin instead of fabric. The other felt weird, sensing the touch of his warm, a bit sweaty hand – one of the reasons being that he had not expected those deadly, nut-cracking fingers to be so soft. Jinki realized his mistake quickly and removed his hand, placing it on a covered part of Kibum's body instead. Out of the corner of his eye, Kibum stole a glance at him. The boy's ears were turning pink.

Headmaster's eyes shifted between their worried faces.

"I find it hard to believe, though. If you have a history of disrespecting each other..."

"Sir, there is no, no way I could disrespect this person right here," Kibum's mind was too fixed on preventing his strict father from getting involved to fret over the fact that he had just interrupted Headmaster himself. He put a hand to his chest dramatically. "I am in constant awe of Jinki's intellectual abilities and personal qualities. He is literally the most reliable, helpful, funny friend I've ever had!" Kibum's throat went dry from all the lying and he coughed. "He is kind to animals – even the most disgusting ones! – and he... he helps his parents at the meat shop, and... Always helps to clean in class, even when it's not his turn, lends money, and breaks up fights between juniors, he's polite, and he is so good at ttakbam, and chess... And, oh, if you had only seen his headstand!.. His footballing skills are underrated, too! His honey thighs can really work wonders!"

Kim Kibum, in the name of Moschino and all the saints, what the hell are you saying?! His own words made him nauseous. Or maybe it was the smell of Mr. Park's socks.

Lee Jinki blinked behind his glasses. He felt pressured to say something, too.

"Well... I... You see, Kibummie..." Kibummie?! "Kibummie and I are very close. He is an amazing writer, and his articles are always interesting. He makes beautiful paintings and sculptures – from any material at all! Have you seen the clothes he decorated himself? I'm sure you would want to wear them immediately!... Or, maybe not you, but... ahem... Kibum is great at English and drama, and when he is on stage..." Jinki's breath hitched and he swallowed the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth while talking.

"Go on," Kibum urged, suddenly interested.

"...he always acts so well, and his diction is perfect! He also takes care of himself, and uses nice shampoo, his skin is so clean and when he smiles, he has that dimple..." Jinki rubbed his nose, probably wondering if he had gone too far. "Anyways, we're friends."

Kibum was slightly disappointed to hear that abrupt conclusion, because he wanted to know what exactly his dimple did, but then he came around to his senses. You need to save your ! That's all that matters, Bummie!

Headmaster hemmed.

"It still doesn't explain why you were insulting each other in written form when you were supposed to be eating."

Kibum tensed, his mind looking frantically for a plausible explanation, but Jinki reacted faster:

"Oh, it's because we're in a punk band! Those are our nicknames!... I mean, they are still highly inappropriate, sir," he added in a less excited tone.

Kibum twisted his mouth. Them? In a punk band?! Ridiculous!

"Yes, it's called Grounded Losers," he muttered below his breath.

Mr. Park's eyebrows flew up.

"Really? So you two are good at music too?

"Well, yeah! I am the singer and the guitarist, and Kibum is the drummer, and we-a-ah!" Kibum pinched his "honey" thigh, signalling the boy to shut up before he got carried away completely. Jinki's thigh turned out to be quite hard. Athletic for a geek, huh. "...We only perform covers for now."

"Is that so? May I hear one?" Mr. Park asked, propping his chin on his hand.

Kibum felt a mild pang of panic, which rapidly turned into a whole storm of panic as he had no idea what to do. But Jinki seemed completely at ease all of a sudden.

"Sure! Are you ready, Kibummie?" he turned to the fear-stricken boy, his eyes motioning to a chair nearby.

Like a zombie, Kibum grabbed the chair's back and dragged it nearer, having no idea what he was doing.

"One-two-three-four!"

And Jinki started singing some classic rock song that he must have heard on the radio in his father's car. Awakening from his stupor, Kibum knelt beside the chair and started banging on the seat with his palms and elbows – thankfully, he had figured out the rhythm right away. He had not expected his enemy's voice to be so melodic and powerful and, despite his unfavorable opinion of its owner, he was impressed. Jinki finished the song with a high-pitched note that he performed exquisitely. When Kibum raised his eyes at him, he almost expected to see a long-haired rock god with painted eyes and rings on his fingers, clad in black leather – not a clumsy, bespectacled dork whose face had met every stair by the main entrance at least once.

They looked at their headmaster, not sure if he was buying their lies or just taking the piss out of them. To their surprise, he was crying, his face buried in a handkerchief.

"Ah, this song brought so many memories..." he said in a muffled voice. "A long time ago I was a rebel just like you!... Thank you, boys, thank you so much... Now skip to your classes, hurry, hurry!"

And he waved them away, wiping the new tears that were coming and clearly wanting to spend some time alone with his memories.

The boys could not believe their luck. Kibum would've high-fived the other if... well, if the other didn't occupy the leading position in his personal list of worst people ever. Instead, he stopped Jinki and pointed a finger at his face.

"What happened in Headmaster's office..." he began.

"...stays in Headmaster's office," Jinki finished and flashed a big smile at him before walking away.

What is that y thinking grinning at me like that?! Hmph!

On the bus, Kibum lost the struggle he'd been having with himself for the last two hours. He took out his compact mirror and smiled at his reflection. Yes, the dimples did appear, and the dimple on one side of his face was deeper than on the other, but there was honestly nothing special about it. He didn't even think he looked that handsome when he smiled. I bet that weird dork was just trolling me, that's all. And he threw the mirror back into his bag.

On the next day, Jinki had panda eyes. A few people for having had a "rough night", but he barely listened to them, yawning constantly. He didn't raise his hand during the classes much, and even misunderstood a couple of questions.

When the last lesson was over, Kibum turned around to see him sleeping, his head lying on top of his history textbook. He waited for everybody to leave to walk over to Jinki's desk.

He looks really tired. I guess I should just leave him alone. Or... With a naughty smirk, he took the strawberry gum he was chewing out of his mouth. ...I could continue the restoration of my honor. And he stuck the gum to the sleeping boy's dark brown hair.

"Sleep well, baby boy," he cooed and walked out of the class, feeling like the whole world was under his command.

Jinki had to have his hair cut. It no longer looked like a bird nest, but instead was combed back and parted on the side. Kibum sincerely hoped that people would about his old-fashioned grandpa hairdo, but, to his dismay, the effect was quite the opposite. The girls got all giggly and stupid all of a sudden, and he heard Jessica Jung openly gushing over his "smooth, intelligent" forehead – Kibum had to run out into the corridor to escape that nonsense. Somehow that "farting" interview had not fazed them at all – perhaps, somewhere deep inside, the idea of raw masculinity that he had made up for laughs was not that disgusting to them, or simply roused some sort of compassionin their fickle hearts. One chick even asked Jinki to ttakbam her!... Kibum heard they had taken her to the school doctor. Serves her right, if you ask me.

As it was Jinki's turn to attack now, Kibum was ever so attentive to his surroundings. He opened his locker door and desk drawer with great care, ready to jump back just in case. He checked his food twice before eating it and, prior to sitting anywhere, he studied the surface minutely. Who knew what that devil's mind would think of this time?

But the attack never came. Days went by, and Jinki simply kept studying, cracking one difficult test after another, and met Kibum's jabs with a good-natured "Hi, Kibum!", and left with a tired "Bye, Kibum!", as if they'd never been enemies. (Strangely enough, he had almost expected Jinki to call him "Kibummie" the first time he had done that.)

He had clearly lost interest in their game, and somehow it worried Kibum. Was he that boring? Was he that forgettable? But the worst thing was that he didn't feel like he had won. Had his revenge been useless after all? Now, he got irritated too easily, and couldn't draw anymore, and his friends didn't hang around with him that much because that constantly annoyed grump was not the charming and witty Kibum they were used to. He spent a lot more time alone now, and he didn't even know what he was so upset over. Surely, he didn't miss finding nasty monsters in his drawer or getting hit in the forehead and falling into a swoon in front of everybody?

On another annoying and depressing Monday, Kibum was walking along the corridor, not caring if he bumped into someone and scattered their belongings upon the floor. He was feeling too crappy to pay any attention to that. And knowing that he had no legit reason to feel that way did not make it any better. When the flow of people coming from the opposite direction cleared, he saw something that made him stop in his tracks and caused his hands to ball into fists. He felt like he'd been slapped across the face.

Lee Jinki – his enemy Lee Jinki – was crouching at Choi Minho the athlete's feet and wiping his shoe with a paper towel!

Something snapped inside of him. Blinded with rage, Kibum marched towards the boys.

"How could you, Lee?!" he yelled, throwing the lip balm he had been carrying in his pocket at the boy. "How could you do that to other people?! How could you do that to someone else's shoes?!"

Choi Minho grinned.

"Don't worry, Kibum. He'll make it clean aga-"

"Pipe down, Choi! I'm not talking to you now!" Kibum shouted furiously, the wild look in his eyes making the most attractive sportsman of their school gulp.

"How dare you avoid me?!" he continued, turning to Jinki who was watching him with an open mouth, speechless. Kibum threw his strawberry gum pack at him as well. "How dare you ignore me after everything we've been through?! You filthy..." The gum was followed by a Rillakkuma eraser."... backstabbing..." There came a bunch of coins, ringing sharply as they hit the tiled floor. "...sweet-voiced..." He snatched a heavy metallic bracelet off his wrist and tossed it at Jinki's shoulder as well. "...evil jerk! How could you be so selfish?!" Hot tears were running down Kibum's cheeks by now. "Burn in Hell, you heartless bastard!"

And he dashed away, ignoring the prying eyes of the passersby and running past Taemin who looked at him with concern. He hurried, not knowing where, chased by the sight of Jinki's shocked face (Jessica was right – his forehead was so, so smooth!) and a suspicion that he had probably made a huge mistake. He opened the first door he found and, luckily, it was the old gym – empty, because it was still under renovation. There he threw himself on the faded linoleum and let his tears run freely.

"I hate him, hate him!" he screamed, his voice echoing in the emptiness.

In his hysterics, he didn't even try to approach the situation rationally. He admitted to himself that he had no idea what was going on and why. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was feeling hurt and betrayed. And the pain was coming from his heart region.

Kibum heard the door open. He didn't bother to stand up – he just embraced his knees tighter, burying his weeping face in them. Steps shuffled closer to the spot where he was sitting.

"Kibummie, are you okay?" a voice asked.

Surely, it was Taemin.

"No, I'm not okay," Kibum said quietly, shaking his head. His sadness was now of a more subdued kind.

The younger boy sat beside him on the floor.

"Is it because of Lee Jinki?" he asked simply.

"Maybe," Kibum said with a sniff, feeling stupid. It made him cry more. "He is just so... unfair. And cold-hearted."

Taemin sighed.

"This is a crazy situation."

"I know," Kibum whimpered. His voice sounded nasal and he hated that.

Neither of them spoke for a while. But somehow Taemin's presence itself was soothing. He wasn't the judgmental kind, and Kibum didn't feel the need to fake his emotions in front of him. He was grateful to him, even though they weren't closest friends.

"You know I don't have the right words to say... But I can bring you a glass of water at least. I'll be back in a moment."

He patted Kibum's shoulder awkwardly and went away.

Kibum didn't even want to think of returning to the classroom right now. Tear-streaked face, ruined hairdo, dusty clothes – what a sight he must be! If he hadn't left his bag hanging on the chair, he would've just gone home. And all because of Lee Jinki, and his stupid hair, and his stupid grin, and his damn stupid thighs! There was only one thing Kibum wished right now: he wished that Jinki had never caught that bus and never spilt that juice upon his shoe.

Those shoes were not even that good.

In a couple of minutes Taemin returned and Kibum heard him come closer and place the promised glass down on the floor.

"Ah, Tae, I'm feeling so ing awful! I think he actually hates me and wants me to die!" Kibum was attacked by another flow of tears.

Instead of an answer, he felt a pair of warm lips touch his cheek. The kiss was light, and yet it seemed to convey a lot. Again, it was Taemin's gift to bring relief without words.

"Thanks, baby..." Kibum reached out his hand for the water, but his fingers touched something else instead. His peaky bracelet.

He opened his eyes and saw no glass. But there was his bracelet, lip balm, gum pack, his Rillakkuma pen eraser and his coins lined in a neat row next to his feet.

And sitting beside him was not Taemin. It was the class nerd going by the name of Lee Jinki, looking pale and tired, but there was kindness in the gaze of his dark eyes.

"I don't think he hates you. And he definitely doesn't want you to die," he said softly. "Although he is feeling ing awful, too."

Kibum made a weird sound and started rubbing his face violently to wipe the tears away as if it made any sense now.

"Why is he f-feeling awful?" he asked in a shaky voice, trying not to go insane over the fact that the boy sitting beside him had just kissed his wet face.

Lee Jinki shrugged.

"Maybe he feels like he lost."

"W-why did he give up, then?"

"Maybe he doesn't want to fight with you anymore."

"Is it because I'm boring?"

"No, you're not boring," Jinki argued and his lips nervously. "It's just... perhaps he'd like to be your friend."

Kibum stopped hiding his pink face in his hands.

"Really?" His eyes widened. "But why couldn't he just talk to me?"

"Wouldn't you say 'no'?"

"At first, I would. But then I'd approach him and say 'yes'."

Jinki looked surprised. He was at a loss of words.

"Why does he never take the bus now?" Kibum asked, playing with his shoe tie.

"He rides a bicycle."

"Why?!"

Jinki shrugged again.

"He likes bicycles. Also he is... avoiding you a little."

Kibum pouted.

"Could he start taking the bus again?"

"Or maybe you could start using a bicycle, too," the other boy suggested with a smile.

Kibum frowned as some thought seemed to still bother him. 

"But, if he wants to be my friend... why would he be avoiding me?"

Jinki let out a deep sigh. It was his turn to stare at his shoes now. A whole two minutes passed before he answered, in a quiet voice:

"Because he is head over heels for you."

What Taemin saw when he opened the door to the old gym surprised him and brought him relief at the same time. Kibum's arms were thrown around his worst enemy and his head was resting upon his shoulder. His face was still glistening with tears, but those were not tears of misery anymore. He was smiling.

Not wanting to disturb them, Taemin placed the water bottle (he hadn't found a glass) he had brought on the floor near the door. He couldn't help beaming as he was walking down the now empty halls of the school. It felt good to know that two people he liked also liked each other. But it was even better to know for sure that Kibum was not interested in Choi Minho. The path was officially clear.

A/N: Sooo... this is it! How do you guys feel about the ending? I didn't mark the story complete yet, because I thought about writing an epilogue, but I still haven't decided whether ithis story needs one... ┐(´-｀)┌ 

Also I would like to thank you all for subscribing, commenting and upvoting my story! I hope you enjoyed reading it (and thanks for being so patient with the Jinkibum dorks...)! ヽ(*゜∀゜*)ノ