The sky was purple. Purple like the rings around those skeleton boys eyes who lurked around the back doors of clubs, bumming for cigarettes with their silky black hair hanging down over their eyes. It was purple like the color of rainwater when it hit spots on the pavement that had been tarnished by oil and gasoline dripping from the bottom of cars. It was purple, and then bright orange at the edges, orange like the flare of a match, or a lighter, and it made him inhale as he tipped his head up, leaning back against the uneven bricks.
“You’re yellow.” He knew it was not a real color, it was a color his mind had somehow come up with, but he could see it, after all those days of grayish mornings and black nights. Soon his eyes got prickled with a salty wetness, clapping his mouth shut in excitement. Kibum hated yellow, but he found himself loving it.
When Jinki first learned that his family was hiring a maid, he expected a typical middle-aged woman who wore an apron and carried a feather duster at all times. It was a shock, therefore, when Jinki came home from college classes one day and discovered a teenage boy vacuuming the living room as if it were a perfectly normal, everyday occurrence.
Kibum falls asleep again and Jinki sits beside him on the bed. The younger man’s face seems really worn out - with his current lifestyle that’s nothing unexpected though. For last month Jinki has never managed to see him sober - or at least not tipsy. He fails to figure out the reason.
"Kibum, have you ever been in love?"
"I don’t know."
This fic is hilarious and awkward and hfjekhajkf
Jinki turned as he was instructed, his lips drawn together in a tight line. Kibum fiddled with the air vents and adjusted the seatbelt. The radio played a song that they usually sang along to, but this time they both pretended that listening in silence was the most important thing either of them could do.
“Make a right at the second tight.”
“At the what?”
“I said, turn right at the second light.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“Yes it was.”
Alarm clock blaring his wake up call, Jinki shoots up in his bed soaked in sweat. His chest is heaving as he tries to force the proper amount of air into his lungs to support his rapidly beating heart. Reaching over, he drops his hand groggily on the device to stop its incessant beeping and then fumbles for his glasses placed nearby. When he’s able to see the hand in front of his face again, Jinki throws his legs over the edge of his bed.
As soon as they pulled away the magnitude of their actions began to heavily sink in. Key’s eyes were round saucers of disbelief and he brought his fingers up to his lips as if Onew had coated them with radioactive waste and they had grown into some sort of foreign mutation on his face. He looked at Onew in the exact same manner, and if Onew wasn’t so ashamed at that moment he might have been offended.
Selkies are Seal people. They can cast off their seal skins and take a human form to come ashore occasionally. Their human forms are said to be so unbelievably beautiful that any true human who sets eyes upon them will fall instantly in love.
No, Key wanted to say. Instead he sighed, bringing down his hands. He realized it should be hot, but the ground felt smooth, almost cool. No, he thought again, but his cheek was already resting on the ground, and he knew he was lost.
This fic is really confusing negl
He answers the nearest of his phones, snappily, angrily, and lets the phone fall to the floor from his suddenly limp hand when the other end shouts their news at him. He sits down- he can’t stand on his feet with all the blood suddenly deciding to leave his body for another place that lets in a lot of cold and a lot of nausea and a lot of fear.
Kibum was sitting on one of the benches waiting for his boyfriend to show up. Being in different grades they never had the same classes so they always met up after school to hang out.
Is this some kind of stupid joke? He looks carefully at Jinki’s face but he sees nothing, no smile, no smirk, like it is totally washed out of any feelings. Normally he would yell something like “what are you thinking about, you pervert”. Or simply laugh him off. Well, react in any way. But there is something in Jinki’s posture, in the way his arms are hanging numbly on his sides, in his impassive look that restrains him from any action.
I often caught him lost in his thought, and it’s getting worse day by day. He hardly ever spared me a glance, and even if he did, it wasn’t a pleased one. I was terribly confused with this, but was also too scared to inquire.
it wasn’t a shame that he was cut off, actually, because he got the kiss from an angel, and that angel was Lee Taemin. Also known as, Baby-yah and The Boy Who Moved into the Room next To His.
Jinki had known Kibum for three years then. Kibum was his boyfriend for one year, two months, two weeks and four days, and they were supposed to have a casual Wednesday sex, but Kibum dyed his hair brown after half of a year keeping it yellow, and as could be expected, everything turned upside down.
He takes a selca of himself smiling. He wants to remember this day as a happy one, not a gruesome one.
“I’d like to go back to school,” he tells his parents quietly one night, and there is both surprise and relief in their eyes – God knows how many nights they’ve stayed up, worrying about their son’s future. “I’ve already signed up for the entrance exam, and I’ve been studying lately.” He hesitates, and then – “Mother, father, I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.”
When Jinki told him about the news, Kibum was anything but believing. How could it be? Jinki of all people, with his optimism, kind heart and the undying smile on his face, could not be terminally ill. Damn, he shouldn’t be—when it hadn’t even been a month since they took the vow to stay together as life partners. Kibum hadn’t even gotten used to the feeling of the ring Jinki had put on his finger. But Jinki had not joked. He had smiled, silently confirmed, when Kibum with his trembled voice asked if he was telling the truth.
The stain runs to the car door and turns out to be seemingly young boy, dressed too flamboyantly for his own good - but maybe that’s his recipe for successful hitchhiking, who knows. He opens the door and looks at Jinki carefully, obviously checking if he’s not some freaking mugger or other rapist but Jinki is really nothing but a decent boy so the boy finally grins widely at him.
They met through their respective families — Taemin’s parents were coincidentally very good friends with Kibum’s family, and they often got together for social outings. Whether it was dinner, a wine sampling party, or simply an occasion to catch up in person, the two boys would always be left behind.
"You’re going the wrong way," Kibum says pointedly.
Taemin drawling: “Hyung, we’re going to get lost at this rate.”
"You’re going to make me miss Jonghyun’s wedding. My best friend’s wedding. You think about that when you go to sleep tonight.”
Tbh after I read this fic from my phone, I had to hope on tumblr to make sure that my bbs were alright. ;3; It’s a really powerful fic… If you’ve read ‘The Long Walk’ by Stephen King, this is based off that book.
The gate looks like any other gate. Large stone pillars on either side, the iron-wrought gate between them, now swung open. There’s nothing mysterious about it, nothing unusual, nothing special. It’s just a gate, opening onto the road that will lead them from Sunan and onwards, ever onwards.
“Don’t go into the kitchen,” whispered Kibum. “I heard it calling my name too.”
It was exactly thirty days before the big birthday bash. However, Lee Taeyeon, the birthday girl-to-be, did not feel any ounce of excitement, despite her father’s promises of a party that other girls in the world could only dream of having. After all, how different could it be from the other seventeen birthdays she had ever had in her life?
He clearly remembers seeing a teal blue matchbook at the bottom of the car, reading The Violet Hour. Taemin looks that up at home on the computer and finds out it had been the name of some Broadway play, remembers, oh he likes the arts, he told me that. But the matchbook had little black squiggles of address underneath the bold letters, Taemin remembers distantly, squiggles he didn’t read, didn’t see so doesn’t know. But that tells him that it is a place. A place where Key might be and so he’s finding it.
"Are you a rabid dog or something?" Jonghyun growled and hit his arm in mock annoyance.
"I’m a wolfman, stupid."
"Shouldn’t you be hairy in more places then?" Minho was standing right behind him now as he stared at himself in the full length mirror in his room. Jonghyun’s eyes moved to look at him through the glass.
Jonghyun is about to tell Kibum that he is being completely ridiculous, but then he sees Minho at the corner of his eye, taking a swig from a water bottle and watching them in what he obviously thinks is a surreptitious way. “Uh. Okay, okay, I believe you now. Let go before you break my wrist, geez.”
You heave an enormous, long-suffering sigh. “Uh, is this God?”
“God! Are you God?”
“What on earth?”
“Are you fucking deaf? I asked if you were God.”
“No—what the fuck Taemin if you’re prank calling again I swear I’ll stop making you lunch—oh shit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”
There are many times in which Kim Kibum meets Kim Jonghyun, but this is the first time of the first times.
“Just don’t answer the door,” Jonghyun grumbled to himself, pushing his fingers into his eyes, as the doorbell went for the first time that night, he was never a big fan of Halloween anyway and annoying kids running around in shoddily-put-together costumes was just not helping the cause.
One sided Jongkey
“I can’t— I can’t allow you two to sleep in our room together!” Jinki would say, struggling to assert himself as the leader of the group.
Kibum would roll his eyes and scoff (in the cute way that he always does), “Jinki, that’s stupid. What do you think we’re going to do?”
"I don’t have any books but you can check me out.”
“… Excuse me?”
There’s a boy with yellow hair leering at Kibum, and he is not okay with it.
kibum wakes up to feel only the rough underside of his covers wrapped lovingly around his arms and legs, and for him, it’s not enough. he sighs before twisting his body to check how the others are doing and they’re all asleep, save for jonghyun whose bed is oddly empty.
“He cried all the way through Finding Nemo, I don’t think he’s that dangerous,” Jonghyun points out, stuffing a rice cake in his mouth.