[fic] Minho/Key – SHINee – Who Cares About Soccer? – Part 2/4

[rabenhorst]

Title: Who Cares About Soccer?; Part 2/4
Author: fonulyn
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Minho/Key
Characters: Jonghyun, Onew
Warnings: --
Disclaimer: I own no one, only my dirty imagination.
Summary: Kibum has no idea how a one night stand suddenly turns into a messy romance. Apparently nothing is as it seems when it comes to the country’s own superstar soccer hero Choi Minho.
Comments: I promised the second chappie for my birthday so here it is! :D

Part I Truth to be told, Kibum does expect Minho to call but he doesn’t expect for it to happen so soon. It’s the next day after their shared night and Kibum is standing in line at their favourite cafeteria with Jonghyun, intending on getting lunch. Jonghyun is paying, in exchange of some juicy details of the happenings and Kibum isn’t one to turn down free food. Kibum doesn’t even check the caller ID before he flicks open his phone, giving a distracted hello. There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line, before someone clears their throat and a familiar voice begins talking. “Hey, Kibum, it’s me,” Minho says, sounding as if he’s trying to figure out what to say along the way. “It was good, last night, and I was hoping we could do it again? We didn’t really have the chance to talk last night. I wanted to, well,” he pauses momentarily, “would you like to meet up again? For lunch? Or dinner, if you’re busy now.” There’s a hint of hope in his tone and it makes Kibum feel even worse for his decision. He’s not going to budge, though, not even though it’d be so tempting to ignore reality for a while at least. “Sorry, Minho,” he smiles apologetically, hoping it somehow comes across in his voice. “It was fun and all, but I’m not really looking for anything long-term right now.” He has to grimace at the words as they couldn’t really be further from the truth. He’d definitely jump at the chance of grasping something long-term if he had it without any big drawbacks. Even Jonghyun lifts a questioning eyebrow at him. Kibum ignores that, along with the start of what Minho is saying, in favour of speaking up again. “I really am sorry. Good luck with, you know, the games and stuff. Bye!” Quickly he hangs up, before Minho can even get a word in edgewise. As soon as the phone clicks shut Jonghyun has apparently had enough of listening silently. “Not looking for anything long-term!?” he asks, incredulous, his voice rising a few notches with that. “And what was that? Good luck with the games and stuff? C’mon Kibum. You can’t be serious.” “What?” Kibum snaps. “I was turning him down, politely.” “You were trying to escape like a scared teenager,” Jonghyun points out. “How do you even know what he wanted?” It’s thankfully their turn to order then, but it’s only a temporary saviour for Kibum as Jonghyun picks the topic up as soon as they take their seats. “Is it because he’s a soccer player? C’mon Bummie, it’s not like he’s going to choose sports for pillow-talk!” He looks offended on behalf of all sports-fans, even when he takes a huge bite of his gigantic sandwich. Kibum sighs. “Yes and no,” he admits. “It is because he’s a soccer player but not because of goddamn pillow-talk.” He pierces a piece of tomato in his salad, pushing the bowl of soup aside for now. “He’s famous, Jonghyun. He’s a superstar and he’s got his reputation to look after. I don’t see where a scandalous gay affair would fit in when it comes to his perfect life.” For a moment, Jonghyun gapes at him. Then he actually sets his food down, leaning over the table to look at Kibum sternly. “Wow. I can’t believe you. For once you find a guy you really like – and don’t try to deny it, it’s obvious – and then pull crap like this?” He points an accusing finger at Kibum. “Did you ask him about it? What if he’s fine with a ‘scandalous gay affair’ and it’s you who makes a problem out of it? Just talk to him. I’m not telling you to marry him, but talk to him. He did call you again…” “Drop it, Jjong,” Kibum snaps. “He said it himself; he’d like to ‘do it again’. Stop talking. I made up my mind and I have my reasons, thank you very much. Now eat your food and don’t ever mention this again.” He’s fuming by now, anger sparking inside of him at the whole conversation. Of course he knows he could’ve talked to Minho about it before leaving. But talking about things would’ve meant being prepared to take the confirmation for his suspicions, as well, and he’s not sure if he’d be ready for a talk like that. Jonghyun drops the topic for a while, but there’s no chance in hell that he’s done with it completely. Whenever he gets a good chance he makes sure to point out to Kibum that he’s acting like an idiot, even if he’s being determinedly ignored. Minho tries to call back but Kibum doesn’t answer, so instead he gets several texts and even a couple of voicemails, all of which he tries to brush off nonchalantly. Truth to be told, his resolve is chipping away at a worrying pace. “This totally sucks,” Kibum sighs, swirling a straw in his colourful drink. He doesn’t even remember how many of those he’s had but his night still keeps on sucking, and not in the good way. He’s been occupying the same booth for over half of the evening, regardless of Jinki and Jonghyun have been trying to cheer him up and distract him. He’s in a mood, and when he’s in a mood he sometimes doesn’t even want to be cheered up. Jinki sighs. “C’mon, you’re wallowing. Stop wallowing.” He must notice the expression that flashes on Kibum’s face at that since he lifts his hand immediately, going on without listening to any complaints. “Why don’t you go dance? Jjong doesn’t have a date, you could keep him company.” “You don’t have a date either,” Kibum points out. He knows he’s not being exactly helpful to the cause, dismissing all the good attempts with sheer stubbornness. Yet he doesn’t exactly feel like humouring his friends either. He just lost the man of his dreams and he’s entitled to a little wallowing, he thinks. “No,” Jinki laughs, “but I don’t dance either. Usually you rather spend time grinding up against Jonghyun’s sweaty torso than sit here with me getting progressively drunker.” It’s not completely true, though, but they both know it and neither of them feels the need to comment. “Sorry, Jinki.” Kibum sighs. “I don’t really feel like it. Plus Jjong practically has his hand down that girl’s skirt so I doubt he’d want me to be the third wheel in the equation.” He smirks, nodding towards their friend. It amuses them both, but they’ve seen it happen so many times they really have no interest to keep looking. They’ll hear it all sooner or later. Despite the obvious reluctance from his friend, Jinki isn’t ready to give up yet when it comes to the cheer-up-mission. “How about going to chat with that cute guy by the counter? He’s totally been eyeing you for over half an hour now!” He tries his best to sound enthusiastic. It’s not like it’s anything new that Kibum collects looks when they go out, but this man really seems kind of charming and maybe he’d do the distraction better than a goofily smiling best friend can. Kibum’s only reaction is a disinterested glance. He returns to stirring his drink with his straw, even though there’s barely anything left to stir. “Not my type.” “…because he’s not a worshipped soccer hero?” “Screw you.” “Oh you wouldn’t,” Jinki says, and waves it aside. “I’m not a model-gorgeous athlete either.” With a huge sigh, Kibum abandons his drink and drops back against the seat, quick enough to bang his head on the backrest. “It was supposed to be a fun one night stand. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He knows he’s prone to dramatics but thankfully his friends are used to it, and as he gestures to emphasize the general situation Jinki doesn’t even blink. “But it did,” he points out calmly. Reaching forward he snatches the straw from Kibum’s fingers. “You could make the most of it? At least have some fun. Or try to date him, it’s not like you have much to lose.” Like usual, he’s the voice of reason. As much as he can be a giant dork, he always knows to keep a level head whenever his friends throw themselves into the throes of overreacting. “No, I don’t.” Kibum has to admit that much. He is the one who has less to lose. If they choose to hide everything, they’re both in the same situation. If they go public with their dating, he doesn’t have any fans to throw a fit, or rich sponsor deals that could be threatened by it. “I’m not the one who has an actual reputation.” Jinki gives a small shrug, smiling. “Look, I’m not trying to be a jackass here, but it’s obvious that you like him a lot. Wouldn’t it at least be worth a try then? No regrets, at least you gave it a go? Don’t fret over it too much, it might work out a lot better than you’re imagining right now.” “I don’t know, Jinki. I just don’t know.” Kibum grabs his drink and finishes it off, the melted remains of what used to be neon-orange ice cubes sloshing around in the glass. He knows Jinki might be right. It could happen that he’s just over-thinking everything. Yet, he’s not sure if he’s willing to take that risk. He’s had more than enough of secret relationships for one lifetime, and he’d rather not suffer through one again. He can’t deny it’s tempting, though. Minho is very tempting. “Okay.” Jinki gives up easily. He can see when more talk would just lead to him bashing his head against the metaphorical brick wall, so he just heaves himself up from his seat and reaches for his wallet. “Let me buy you another one of those obnoxious pink ones.” Kibum wakes up to the insistent blaring of the doorbell and curses it loudly as he drags himself up from his warm and comfortable bed. He’s not a fan of getting up early at the best of times and this is just unusually cruel if one asks him. The floor is unreasonably cold beneath his toes, making him cringe, and the shrill sound of the doorbell rings through the apartment once more. Haphazardly, Kibum throws on the first t-shirt he can locate, still dragging up his sweats as he hobbles out of the bedroom. His hair is sticking up to every direction, remnants of hairspray still in them as he didn’t bother to shower last night as he got back home and collapsed into bed. Even if it had been nothing more exciting than watching a movie at Jonghyun’s place, he’d been so exhausted that sleep had seemed like the only option. Even if it means that now he probably looks like he’s gone through an explosion. He’s definitely not dressed to impress, nor to receive guests, and it brings his already crappy mood down even more. Finally he manages to drag himself to the door, swinging it open in an angry gesture. “What!?” he barks roughly, not even caring that whoever it is at his door might actually be someone of importance. It’s way too early right now to be civilized. Especially as he recognizes who’s standing at his doorstep, looking incredible and impeccable and just who the hell gave Minho permission to look like a goddamn model at the crack of dawn. The only reason Kibum doesn’t slam the door right in his face is that there’s a cup of coffee handed to him, and tired as he may be he could never turn down the offer of some caffeine. Gingerly he takes the cup, aware of his fingers probably still not being completely awake, and takes a long gulp. It’s almost scalding, but Kibum likes the way it makes him shudder slightly, makes him feel a little bit more alive and awake. He looks expectantly at Minho, the second sip of coffee more leisurely than the first. “Do you have a moment?” Minho asks, leaning casually against the doorframe. “You didn’t seem to be very chatty on the phone so I figured I’d come say hi in person.” “Say hi?” Kibum arches an eyebrow. “You must have something else on your mind, too. So, spit it out. Why are you here?” He doesn’t sound downright hostile anymore, even if he’s still very, very far from being pleasant and polite. Minho looks slightly uncomfortable, shifting his stance as he glances over his shoulder and down the corridor. “Could we talk inside?” he suggests, already taking a step closer to Kibum. “This isn’t something I’d want to broadcast to the whole world.” At that precise second, Kibum can practically hear his patience snap. To him, it’s clear proof confirming everything he had suspected and it makes him even angrier, damn near furious. His fingers curl around the disposable coffee cup as he tries to stop himself from squeezing it too hard. Jinki always keeps telling him to take deep breaths when his temper flares up, but now he manages barely one. “That, right there, is the problem!” He raises his voice, watches Minho’s eyes widen, and just doesn’t even try to stop the outburst anymore. “Can’t you see! I’m so not subtle. I want to walk along the street holding hands and stop for a kiss when I feel like it. I want to go out dancing and go to dinner and movies together. I want my friends to meet my boyfriend and I want them to get along!” He pauses for breath, swallows hard, and when he goes on his voice is lower again as if he lost the will to yell. “You, you want something casual. Or maybe, at best, you want someone who sneaks into your house after dark through the backdoor. You want someone who bows into the crowd and hides when there’s even a chance of someone seeing. You want someone who sneaks around with you, who doesn’t demand to be acknowledged publicly.” Kibum laughs, humourless, and shoves the almost empty cup of coffee right back at Minho, who grabs it instinctively. “In other words, you don’t want me,” Kibum finishes, stepping closer to Minho. Automatically Minho backs off, until he’s standing outside the apartment again, and Kibum throws him one last angry look. “You won’t have me.” He slams the door. There’s nothing Minho could say to make any difference. The anger is still boiling inside of Kibum and he thinks it’s his right, it’s completely validated, but somehow it doesn’t feel as good as it should. He’s not just angry, he’s also so utterly disappointed that he finds it hard to even gain comfort from his dramatics. Besides, his toes are still cold. Kibum pads back to the bedroom, and only when he curls underneath the covers he allows himself slowly relax. When Kibum finally drags himself out of bed he spends the rest of the day on his couch, trying to get some work done. He has his sketchbook on his knees, legs curled close as he has wrapped a fluffy blanket around them. Sometimes he listens to music as he works, but now everything seems to irritate him so he only switches the TV on for some background noise. He keeps it quiet enough that he can’t even make out the words as he’s not paying attention to it. At first he’s still angry, mostly at himself as he should’ve known better than to act like a lovesick teenager. He’s also annoyed by Minho’s actions, how he proved out to be exactly what Kibum suspected: after only some fun instead of anything more substantial. Yet the longer Kibum works, the less he thinks of his mess of a relationship, instead getting caught up in the patterns, shapes and lines he’s trying to form into a coherent entity. Doing something he enjoys relaxes him enough and he only notices the passing of time when his stomach rumbles loudly and reminds him to get up and find something to eat. He sets his sketchpad down and automatically switches the TV on louder, before heading to the kitchen. There’s barely anything there so he makes a mental note to go shopping for groceries soon, maybe with Jonghyun to have someone he can force to help him carry everything back. There’s only enough to make himself some instant soup – not that he’s a gourmet cook to begin with – but food is food and he can’t really be bothered. He almost burns his fingers on the hot bowl as he picks it up, carefully manoeuvring it into the living room. As he waits for the soup to cool down a little bit, he surfs through the channels to find something to watch. The first channel he flips on is in the middle of a soccer match and it only makes him growl, annoyed, and jump straight to the next one. Not that he’s much luckier then. Kibum manages to only enjoy fifteen minutes of the chat show interviewing mostly small name celebrities, before the host announces a way too familiar name. Kibum doesn’t know why but he watches further, waits until Minho is sitting down on one of the plush bright red armchairs, charming the host with a perfect smile and impeccable manners. Kibum lasts three whole minutes of the show before he decides he’s had enough. He finishes his soup in angry slurps, almost slamming the bowl on the coffee table in his haste to switch the TV off. The rest of the day, he works in complete silence. Although it sort of feels like his TV is silently laughing at him. The following days seem to repeat the exact same pattern. Just when Kibum thinks that he’s managed to go a whole day without seeing a glimpse of Minho he turns on the TV and there’s an interview, or a soccer match, or some goddamn commercial featuring Minho’s stupidly handsome face. It should be illegal, to look that good, he grumbles as he quickly tries to get to a Minho-free program. Kibum is beginning to doubt his sanity, too. How is it possible he hasn’t noticed Minho before and didn’t realize he’s an actual celebrity? Now it feels like he sees – and hears! – him everywhere. When he gets fed up with the TV and turns on the radio he’s faced with the same problem, as it feels like half of the channels are either interviewing Minho or his teammates talking about him. So apparently there are some heated games going on in the K League, Kibum isn’t completely sure what, and he doesn’t care enough to stay on the channel long enough to find out. There are big headlines on the newspapers too, and Kibum sees Minho’s name on more than one occasion. Apparently he’s a good player, too, or whatever. Kibum knows that soccer isn’t exactly rocket science but he has no desire to spend time trying to understand it anyway. The last drop falls in form of Kibum’s favourite magazine. It’s a new, very hip publication that combines articles for designers of all kind, be it interior design like his own field or something closer to high fashion. He feels like he’s deserved a night off after working through the whole day – actually going to see a few apartments and listening to the customers talk like they’d understand anything about things – so he sets himself on the couch comfortably and flips the magazine open. Only to be face to face with Minho. The whole first page is a commercial of a new perfume that Minho apparently adores, even underlining the statement with a wide, charming smile. Contrary to popular belief, Kibum doesn’t usually throw temper tantrums. Now, though, he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit he practically screeches as he sends the magazine flying across the room and straight into the only potted plant he has in the living room. Kibum is still shaking with anger as he flips through the contacts in his phone. Jonghyun answers after two beeps, practically singing into the receiver. “The Kim residence, how may I help you?” He works at home, too, as it doesn’t really matter where he does the writing as long as he gets it done. Now he’s in the middle of two projects; a children’s book and a set of lyrics for some new no-name group that has barely debuted. None of that explains why he’s in such a mood though, and Kibum huffs with annoyance. “He’s every-fucking-where!” He throws himself back on the couch, his head hitting the armrest a little too hard. Rubbing the sore spot he goes on, needing to vent his frustration somewhere. “I can’t watch TV, I can’t listen to the radio, I can’t even read goddamn magazines since his stupid face is all over the planet!” Jonghyun snorts. “I told you he was famous.” “I know,” Kibum sighs, flopping on the couch so that he can swing his legs over the backrest. “But how can it be I never noticed him before? I mean, he’s literally all around and I have no memory of ever seeing him before he fucked me silly.” “Too much information, Kibum,” Jonghyun growls theatrically, but they both know it’s just for show: there’s no taming his curiosity. “And how am I supposed to answer that? He’s been playing for years. Although it’s only this season he’s the key player in the national team and his popularity seems to have gone up? But he’s been around longer, trust me. Even Jinki would have recognized his face, you’re literally the only one this can happen to.” Maybe that makes sense, Kibum grudgingly admits to himself, after all he’s notoriously bad with all things sports and doesn’t exactly memorize the faces and names of athletes. Although he’s a little disappointed in himself for not noticing a handsome face like Minho’s before. “How is this even possible,” he sighs finally. “I just had a prolonged one night stand thing with the man! It’s not like I’m in love or something. It should be easy-peasy to let go, right? I need to go out there and get laid.” “Kibum.” There’s a sigh on the other end of the line. “You already tried it, remember? Just because the first guy you want to try an actual relationship with turns out no good it doesn’t mean you need to go back to hopping from one bed to another.” Truthfully, Kibum would be offended if every single word of that wasn’t earned. Ever since his last relationship ended badly he’s been avoiding attachment of all sorts. Just his luck that when he’s finally ready to let go of that he runs into Choi fucking Minho. “Yeah I know. I know. Trust me I know,” Kibum admits. “Wanna hang out tonight? We could go annoy Jinki at work again.” The only answer he gains is a thoughtful hum, but he mistakes it for affirmation and talks on before he realizes that Jonghyun has stopped listening to him altogether. “Yah! Jonghyun! What the hell are you doing!?” “Nothing! Just… a few ideas. You know how it is, being a writer,” Jonghyun answers a little too quickly. When he tries to change the subject a second later, Kibum knows instantly what’s going on. “Please don’t tell me you’re writing my shitty lovelife into lyrics,” Kibum hisses. “I am going to strangle you if I ever hear a b-class boygroup sing about my life.” “Hey! I’ll let you know Wonderboys is a contemporary group that takes its innovative influences from the end of last century. It’s retro!” “I don’t care, Jonghyun, you are not writing about my life and I swear to –” Their bickering is interrupted by the loudly ringing doorbell that almost makes Kibum drop his phone on the floor as he flinches. “Wait, I’ll go see who that is,” he says but doesn’t hang up the phone. With how his life has lately turned out to be he probably should have expected to see Minho through the peephole, but it still makes his stomach flip. And not entirely in an unpleasant manner. “He’s here,” he hisses quietly into the phone, backing off to get to a safe distance. “He’s on my doorstep too! Isn’t it enough he’s on every single medium of public information he has to be here, in person. What do I do?” “You talk to him,” comes the answer immediately. “Like civilized adults. Try not to scream at him this time.” “Hey!” Kibum has to protest. “He totally deserved what he got last time, I’m …Jonghyun? Jonghyun!” With a deep sigh, he ends the phone call, mumbling under his breath about what an ungrateful and infuriating friend Jonghyun is. Even if he knows that there’s much sense in the words. He can be civilized, he can act like a grown up. He proves all of that by swinging the door open and bypassing all greetings. “What do you want? Didn’t you hear me the last time?” “I heard you.” Minho is obviously more patient than Kibum is, judging by the way he offers a soft smile as he stands there, hands in the pockets of his light jacket. He pauses a little awkwardly, as if he’s as nervous as Kibum feels, but when he speaks his voice doesn’t waver. “You hear me now, okay?” Kibum nods. He doesn’t know why but he steps aside, lets Minho into the apartment and closes the door after him. Instantly Minho turns to face him again. “You’re right. I only wanted someone to sneak into bed whenever possible. To release some steam and have a good time. And how could I not want someone like you?” The words seem sincere but Kibum tries not to dwell on them too much. He scoffs, even managing a slight theatrical eyeroll. “Good that you see it now. You done?” “I’m not finished.” All the nervousness seems to dissipate as determination takes its place and Minho even takes a step closer, although he seems to make sure not to invade Kibum’s personal space. “I wanted that. But you’re interesting. You’re the most intriguing person I’ve met in a long time, even though we didn’t exactly take the time to have deep conversations those nights.” “Look,” Minho pauses for a second, but when he meets Kibum’s eyes again his resolve hasn’t lessened at all. “I want to get to know you better. I’m not offering to go public with you today, but I can promise that if this leads to something serious I will. If you’re willing to give me a chance first. We need to see if we’ll still want this after a while.” It only takes a second for Kibum to realize that it’s true, it makes sense. It’s fair to them both to at least see if what there is developing between them is more than a few heated nights. Even if it seems promising, who knows if it’ll crash and burn as soon as it started? He can’t ask the man to commit based on a burger date and a few rounds of amazing sex. Maybe this is exactly how it should go. Give it a try first and then see what happens. It seems so infuriatingly simple now, even though Kibum knows it can still end up in heartbreak for him. Slowly, he nods. “Okay.” Instantly, Minho perks up, his eyes widening a little as a smile spreads on his lips. He seems genuinely happy, in a way that makes Kibum smile in return. “But,” Kibum stresses, always the one to want the final word. “I will hold you to that. You can’t go back on your word.” The last of the tension dissipates as Minho offers to give the agreement in writing, making them both laugh. Maybe this will actually lead somewhere. They can only wait and see.

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(4675 words)


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SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* \(◕ヮ◕✿)/ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

so I’m going out of the country for a week starting Saturday so the next part will have to wait until I’m back :3