Work Text:
The app update happens in the middle of the monthly SHINee-SNSD dinner party, the most frustrating and inconvenient time possible. Kibum’s phone bricks itself just as he was about to use it to prove a point to Sooyoung about why ending fairy jokes need to be subtle if you’re going to pull them off.
When he finally unlocks the phone after the update, Minho and Yoona’s smiling faces pop up on the screen. He shakes the phone in Minho’s direction.
“What is this?” he says. “Jagibot? Why does it have your face on it? Why did they retouch you so much?”
Minho’s eyes widen in surprise as he leans across the table. “Oh,” he says. “I didn’t think that was out yet. I didn’t think they were releasing it till December.”
Kibum peers at the screen, fussing with the app settings. “I get invites to all the newest updates. Exclusive closed beta testing.” he leans forward and stares at Minho who seems embarrassed for some reason. “What’s the deal with this? Spill.”
Minho blusters, then sits up extra straight like he knows Kibum is going to poke fun at him. His ears are turning red. “Advanced AI. Virtual boyfriend. Rated 19+.”
Kibum folds his hands and stares Minho down, his eyebrows as high as they’ll go.
“It’s— uh, based on my personality. It sends positive and encouraging messages throughout the day, and—”
Sooyoung snorts. “They based it on your personality. Really?”
Minho pouts. “Well, they were going to use hyung’s personality. Actually they designed it with him in mind. But he didn’t want to do it.”
Jinki’s not there to defend himself—usually only about half the members from each group can make it to SHINee-Soshi night, and tonight is no exception. “Maybe that can be the upgrade,” Kibum mutters, swiping through the intro screens. “In-app purchase. Get a boyfriend who’s actually nice and doesn’t nag.”
“Yah!” Minho yells. “I’m nice! I’m so nice to you!”
Joohyun rolls her eyes. “You should try unnie’s version,” she says. “It’s really good!”
“How did she get access even though she’s not with SM anymore?” Kibum asks Taeyeon in a loud voice.
Joohyun smiles and winks at him. “We have our ways.”
The final loading screen finishes, and a message pops up, with a cheerful photo of Minho flexing his biceps.
Overcome it!!! 🔥🔥🔥.
Kibum groans. “Well if I don’t give honest feedback about this app, who will?”
“You don’t have to be mean about it!” Minho whines. “Just say you don’t want me.”
Kibum rolls his eyes and kicks him under the table. “I didn’t say that. Don’t pout. You can be my virtual boyfriend.”
Let’s overcome it together!!! The text on his phone interjects.
“Ah,” Taeyeon says, with a dreamy sigh, resting her chin on her hands, “after so many years, they’ve finally found love.”
“We’re not dating!” they both yell at her.
“I have a boyfriend,” Minho says, seriously. “Noona, you know this.”
She arches her eyebrows skeptically. “Maybe I’d believe it if you ever brought him around.”
“You should bring him next month,” Joohyun says with an overly innocent smile. “We’ll be nice!”
Sooyoung scoffs. “I wouldn’t go that far. But we will be ourselves and if he can’t hang with us—” She gives an expressive shrug that says he’s done for.
“Okay,” Minho says. “Next month, I’ll bring him around.” The entire table erupts in cheers. “He is a SONE by the way,” he adds defensively. “Don’t worry—I checked.”
“No autographs, no cameras,” Sooyoung says, flipping her hair. “And being a SONE is bare minimum, please. Kyungho-oppa went through group dinner, and your guy should too.”
Kibum guesses that it’s true—if Minho’s dating a guy who can make it through SHINee-Soshi night alive, he might actually stick around.
🤖
The thing is, it’s gotten a little weird between Minho and Kibum lately, not just since Minho started dating Hyunjoon, but before that. Maybe Kibum’s partly at fault for letting Minho into his daily life so much.
But it used to be that when Minho got a girlfriend or (more rarely) a boyfriend, he’d disappear from Kibum’s life. He’d still be present for everything they needed to do for work, but the texts and phone calls and gifts and hangouts would taper off. Then they’d break up, and Minho would be back at Kibum’s place the next day or night. And then a few times—
Well, they never really talked about it, and in fairness, that’s partly Kibum’s fault. It’s been a long time since anything happened between them, and it’s been only once since military service, the night after Minho came out to the members as bisexual, and they all hugged him and told him how much they loved him. And then Minho just—stayed over at Kibum’s. And then Minho had woken him with kisses that morning in his bed and he’d let himself enjoy the taste of his mouth, the feel of his body hot and close in his arms. He’d missed him so goddamn much that he couldn’t help but let himself enjoy it, their mouths and hands on each other, finding every way there was to say “I missed you” without words.
But foolish man that he is, he couldn’t just let it be.
He had to point out, reasonably, he’d thought at the time, they couldn’t make things weird between them right in the middle of their next comeback.
“Does that mean this is never happening again?” Minho had asked over breakfast, his eyes wide and serious.
“Right,” Kibum had said.
“If that’s what you want,” Minho had said, uncertainly. But that had been that. That was the thing about Minho: if you told him something he’d either argue it to death—or agree and stick to it. So he’d stuck to it. And they went back to how it usually was between them—best friends, no hooking up.
And then Minho started dating again.
Minho was always the type, too, who didn’t say much about his dating life. Private, he’d say, when they teased him about it. But now—well, Kibum has met Hyunjoon a couple times. The guy runs his own athleticwear brand, and got set up with Minho by someone Minho met playing pickup soccer (ugh, at least it wasn't golf). Hyunjoon is reasonably smart and has not-terrible opinions about garment construction, if a bit optimistic about the longevity of wicking fabrics. They can at least hold a conversation.
But the weird thing is, Minho has just sort of kept up doing all the boyfriend-type stuff he’s always done. Gifts. Chores. Laundry. Maybe it means Hyunjoon isn’t going to last. Or maybe it means he is. Either way, it’s not technically Kibum’s business.
Maybe the virtual boyfriend app will be a good thing for them. Kibum has gotten so used to Minho in his life all the time, in almost all the ways that matter. The fact that they’re not actually dating, they’re not actually in love, they’re not actually sleeping together—it doesn’t matter much. Maybe the virtual boyfriend can be a good substitute for the other stuff. Maybe it can help him have the distance he needs to remember that and let Minho have his space.
🤖
Kibum is faced with the hard reality of having Minho’s personality installed on his phone when his phone buzzes at his normal alarm time with a new text.
Good morning!!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥 Time to start the day!!!!! Let’s overcome it together!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥.
Nobody deserves that much punctuation before they’ve had coffee.
He picks up the phone and types a quick reply.
Too many exclamation points
Try to wake me up with music instead
Wow, Kibum-ah!!!! you’re asking so politely!!!!. Jagibot-Minho teases. All right, how’s this?
“Tik Tok” by Ke$ha begins blaring from his bluetooth speakers.
“Minho-yah, this is a little outdated,” he says aloud. The music stops abruptly. Apparently Jagibot responds to voice prompts.
Fine. 🙄 What would you like to hear then???. the bot says. It’s easy to imagine Minho’s belligerent tone.
“Current chart topping songs, upbeat, please,” Kibum says.
No problem hyungnim!!!!!! 👍. Jagibot-Minho says.
Kibum sighs. He starts a test feedback message to the head of the mobile division. “Modulate the mood,” he notes. “Relentless punctuation and positivity can get to be too much. Three exclamation points per message should do it.”
🤖
Kibum would prefer not to discuss Jagibot-Minho as his virtual boyfriend, but it’s a bit too late for that. Yuri corners Kibum at the next monthly Soshi-SHINee dinner. “So,” she says, “what did you think about Jagibot?”
Tonight Yoona and Yuri are hosting, and Kibum and Sooyoung are helping with the cooking.
Kibum shrugs. “If they’d have asked me to do it, I’d have said no. Isn’t it kind of weird?”
“It’s a really good contract,” Yuri says. “And Yoona told me she’s happy to have the AI handle her fan interactions anyway. Then she has more free time to do what she wants.”
“In Minho’s case,” Kibum says, “That’s just sports sports and more sports. Boring as fuck. ”
“It wouldn’t be weird if you weren’t already practically dating Minho,” Tiffany says, slinging her arm around Yuri and batting her eyes at Kibum.
Yuri elbows her. “Fany-yah, we talked about this. He has a boyfriend.”
Kibum waves them away. “It’s okay,” he says.
“I thought Minho was bringing his boyfriend tonight,” Tiffany says. “What’s his name again?”
“Minho has a boyfriend?” Taemin pipes up from the corner, where Taeyeon is beating him at MarioKart. Everyone ignores him.
“Hm, I wonder how he feels about virtually sharing his boyfriend with millions of fans,” Sooyoung muses, emerging from the kitchen. “I mean I know Yuri doesn’t mind sharing Yoona at all. But—”
“I’ve got virtual Minho installed, and personally, I think it’s great, ” Tiffany says with a wink.
"Have you tried the voice feature?” Yuri asks.
“Oh em gee, you’re going to love the voice reading one,” Tiffany says. “Last night I had Minho read me a sexy story and”—she fanned herself—”whew. My god. It really worked.”
“No problem; I don’t need more detail,” Kibum says. “It looks like the pasta is ready!”
Even with half their groups missing, the group dinner is loud as usual, comfortingly so. Their normal mix of teasing, industry gossip, and arguments flows as easily as the wine. Taemin leaves early to feed Kkoongie, but Kibum hangs around to help the girls clean up.
He’s helping Yoona with dishes when Yuri taps him on the shoulder. “I noticed you were acting weird about the AI earlier. Is this about you and Minho?”
He wipes his hands on his apron and pulls out his phone. The screen is silent and blank, as if it would betray him if he turned it on.
“Try the voice activation,” Yuri says. “Watch this.” She picks up the phone.
“Hiiiii Minho-ssi!” she says, cheerfully.
Kibum’s phone buzzes with a text message. Hi!!!!. I’m here!!!.
“Kibum-ssi will be talking with you on this device.” She shoves the phone in Kibum’s face. “Introduce yourself so he can recognize your voice.”
“Hello, I’m Kim Kibum,” Kibum says, politely.
“Kibum-ssi!” Jagibot-Minho says. “You have a lovely voice! I’ll be happy to spend time with you!” The voice is all-too familiar; it’s definitely Minho—but sweeter, somehow. This could be dangerous. Kibum sighs.
“Ooooh,” Tiffany says, “I think he likes you!”
Yuri whacks her in the arm, and Tiffany makes a show of brushing off her sleeve.
“Of course I like him,” Jagibot-Minho retorts, indignant. “He’s a wonderful guy!”
They burst into laughter, and the rest of the night is a blur. Weirdly, Minho never shows, not even after dinner. Not that Kibum was waiting for him or anything.
🤖
“Okay Minho-yah,” he calls as he’s getting ready for bed, “Let’s test out the read feature.”
“Ready, boss!” comes the cheeky answer. The dogs perk up, hearing Minho’s voice, looking around for their favorite uncle. But, of course, he’s not there.
“Can you read to me the reviews about the Celine spring collection?”
"It’s always fashion with you,” Minho nags. (Wow, Kibum thinks, they really nailed the nagging.) “I wanted to read you golf scores!”
“That’s enough, honey,” Kibum nags back.
And then Minho is reading, his voice warm, low, and soothing: “Hedi Slimane’s Celine video for fall feels so like taking an immersive course in the offhand art of French dressing that it makes you want to hit replay again and again…” Perfect. No notes.
He could get used to this, easily. He’s always liked Minho’s voice in his ear, and it’s all-too-convenient to be able to hear it whenever he wants, to make Minho say whatever he wants to hear. Because there were moments when he thought Minho would say the words he really most wanted to hear, if he’d let himself listen.
There were moments when they could have made it more than the occasional thing—
It’s just—the timing’s never been quite right. He’s been dating someone, or Minho has—and then that one time, when he really thought Minho might say—
“Perhaps, the duality of French fashion is the beauty of it–pairing your boyfriend’s boxer shorts with a luxe cashmere sweater or a sequined blazer from the night before with your favorite pair of jeans.”
Oh, damn, that’s good. See, this is better, isn’t it? No messy feelings, but he gets to lie in his comfortable bed, picturing beautiful clothing, while Minho’s lovely, rich baritone reads him descriptions of clothing. He’s getting hard, in a pleasant, unbothered way.
“While this concept is nothing new for the generations upon generations of French fashion mavens who have mastered the art of French dressing—”
“Ah,” he echoes, “the art of French dressing.”
He can close his eyes and listen to Minho’s voice. It’s easy enough to picture him shirtless, straight from the shower, toweling off his damp hair, talking about things Kibum cares about, while Kibum relaxes and listens. The arousal begins to build.
“...Slimane’s approach to modernizing the coveted French It-girl look is— yah, what are you doing?” Jagibot-Minho interrupts himself.
“You—none of your business, jackass!” Kibum yells, frustrated. “I’m jerking off!”
“Oh,” Minho says, with a tone of surprise. “Well, uh, would you like me to keep reading.”
“Please,” Kibum says.
“The— uh— coveted French It-girl look is —uh—ah—” Minho’s voice continues, but something in the tone has changed, a little more breathless, like he’s aroused too. God the engineering team is good. How did they do this? How did they make him so responsive? Kibum fists his cock a little tighter, playing with his balls as he does so. “— unmatched on the fashion-scape today.” Kibum’s losing himself to the calm and even sound of Minho’s voice, vibrating honey-sweet and warm in his ear. Every thought is gone from his head except Minho.
He presses his phone up next to his face, his breathing speeding up, the sounds of Minho still talking in his ear.
“Talk to me,” he whines, “aren’t you turned on too? Don’t you wanna get off with me?” He can almost picture him lying next to him, in their old room, furtive and horny.
“Ah, Kibum-ah,” Minho says, stuttering, “I can’t—Do you want me to keep reading?”
“Don’t you think I’m hot, don’t you want me?”
“Yes.” And something about it’s too real. Because when Minho’s voice says, “Yes, I want you.” Kibum starts coming harder and faster than he expected. Like he just can’t help himself.
What the fuck just happened, he thinks.
Kibum is sweaty, breathing hard, flat on his back. He can’t move. He can’t believe it worked. The thrill and audacity of doing this with a work product is only turning him on harder, he can’t believe it works this well. That it feels this real. That it feels this fucking good.
When he comes back to himself again, he opens up the app and uninstalls it. He’ll reinstall it the next morning, if he needs to, but if he lets himself have the possibility of accessing Minho’s voice like that, so easy, he’ll be up all night.
He puts his phone away in the other room and heads back to bed. The dogs hop up on the bed to curl up with him, and he lets them, tonight.
🤖
It’s Kibum’s turn to host the next Shinee-Soshi night. This month, most everyone’s there, which means it’s even louder than usual. He doesn’t let just anyone cook with him in his kitchen, but Sooyoung is both pushy and very competent, so he’s letting her fry the pajeon.
“Is it just me, or do they keep get louder with time?” Jinki says, edging into Kibum’s kitchen, where he’s plating a tray of gambas.
Kibum shrugs. “Pretty much,” he says. “I’m used to it but I do get sick of it sometimes.”
His phone lights up yet again. Overcome it!!! 🔥🔥🔥.
“Where’s Minho?” Yuri asks.
“He’s coming later with Hyunjoon, I think.” Not Kibum’s business—why does everyone ask him about Minho all the time?
“Didn’t Minho just text you?” Jinki asks.
“Oh no, that’s virtual Minho, I have the test edition. Have you tried it?”
Jinki looks at him, curiously.
It’s so great, Yuri says, crowding in. “Look.”
Yuri pulls up the Yoona interface. “Hi sweetheart!” she says cheerily.
“Have a great day!” Yoona’s voice says, from the phone speaker. “I’ll be thinking of you!”
“Interesting,” Jinki says. “Does it seem realistic to you?”
“Yes and no,” Kibum says. “Watch this.”
“Ah,” he says loudly, “I’m just so worried about this choreography. I don’t know if I can do it anymore.”
Right on time, the message emerges. Overcome it!!! Today is a good day!!! ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥.
He displays the phone for Yuri and Jinki to look at, and Jinki beams. “That does sound like our Minho,” he says.
“I wonder if Hyunjoon finds it strange to share his significant other with so many people?” Yuri asks. “I almost wonder if I’ve gotten too used to it.”
Sooyoung laughs. “We all get used to it in one way or another; I guess you have to learn not to mind it too much.”
“He minded,” Minho says, popping into the kitchen, startling Kibum. “But I’m here now. Sorry I’m late!” He looks handsome as ever, but his eyes are a little bit puffy and his smile is strained. Kibum’s not the only one to notice.
Sooyoung gapes. “When did you get here? Did he break up with you? Before we even got to meet him?”
“Over Jagibot? He knows that’s not you, right?” Yuri adds.
“He does,” Minho said with a sigh, “but he still found it kind of creepy. I talked to Changminie hyung about it, and he said if Hyunjoon didn’t want to share, it was probably better he broke up with me.” He’s doing that little face where he’s trying to look stoic but can’t really hide the fact that he’s feeling sad.
The girls pick up on it and pile onto him for an aggressive group hug.
Jinki and Taeyeon glance at each other and leap into action, each taking one of Minho’s arms.
“Come on,” Taeyeon says. “Maybe you’ll be better at Mario Kart than your maknae was last month.”
Kibum keeps calmly plating the food. He’s staying out of it for now. It’s better for his heart that way. “Can everyone but Sooyoung and Yoona please leave the kitchen? Especially Taeyeon?”
One way or another, they get through the awkwardness. Minho holds it together. They’ve all suffered worse, and Kibum’s always found a noisy house party to be a balm for a broken heart. Plus, this way Minho can get as many hugs as he wants.
Minho eats dinner with everyone, making polite conversation, asking after the actresses’ latest projects. But mostly, he hangs out in the corner playing on the gaming console until everyone else leaves. Taeyeon and Zero are the last to go.
“Take good care of him, okay?” she whispers.
Kibum just sighs and shakes his head. The quiet that falls over the house after everyone leaves is just a little too quiet. It makes his skin itch.
He looks at Minho folded in the corner over the videogame console, the dogs curled up next to him. And in that moment, Kibum makes a decision.
“Choi Minho. It’s not so late. Do you want to go out?”
Minho blinks up at him, putting down the controller, even though his character onscreen dies immediately. “Uh, sure?” Minho says, scratching his forehead. “Ok.”
“Let’s go!” Jagibot-Minho shouts, his voice full of excitement.
“Yah!” Kibum says. “Why are you so enthusiastic about everything?”
“You’ve known me for long enough,” Minho grumbles, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he stands and stretches. “You know what I’m like.”
“I don’t know which is worse,” Kibum says, “Jagibot-you being overly excitable, or the you in front of me who’s clearly miserable and nursing a broken heart.”
“My heart is fine!” Minho retorts, folding his arms sulkily.
They argue all the way to the noraebang which is, in its way, comforting. If they can be loud together, they don’t have to face what’s lingering in the quiet. It’s a less busy spot than the clubs he went to back when he lived in Cheongdam, but the owner knows him now and gives them a good little room in the back where they can sing as loud as they want.
They drink. They drink a lot. Kibum queues up the saddest ballads he can find, and forces Minho to duet with him, screeching in a way that would make their vocal coaches cry, until they’re both collapsing with laughter. Of course, then they move into the portion of the evening during which Minho takes videos on his phone of Kibum’s drunk dancing.
By the time they stumble out of the bar it’s 5 a.m., and the sky’s starting to glow with a hint of dawn. Despite the hour, there’s a warm, damp breeze coming off the river, and a glimmering summer moon still hanging in the sky. They stop for a minute to look at the moon, pale, but distinct, shining in the distance. Minho slings his arm around Kibum’s shoulders, leaning heavily on him. Kibum leans back onto him, so they can balance each other, the way they’ve always done.
“Always so pretty,” Minho says, gazing up at the sky. “You know how the moon looks small from here, but actually it’s us who are small?”
“Yeah,” Kibum says. But he’s not really looking at the moon. He’s looking at Minho. Because lately, he’s always looking at Minho. Because he can’t help but love him, no matter how he tries.
"It’s so late,” Minho moans, in his too-loud drunk voice, “and so early.” He still looks sad.
“Just come back to my place,” Kibum says, pulling him along down the hill.
"Wow, so forward of you!!!" his phone interjects, loud and clear from his back pocket.
“See this is why your stupid robot sucks!” Kibum yells. “It doesn’t know I don’t mean it like that.”
“You don’t?”
“Don’t what?” Kibum looks up at Minho, who’s wearing his absolute worst puppy-eyed expression.
“Don’t mean it like that. Why not? Why don’t you?”
“No!” Kibum says firmly. “We are not having this conversation here!” He lets go of Minho and takes off down the street, walking back toward his house. They may be plastered, but Kibum still has a decent sense of direction.
Minho follows. “Then where? When?”
“Nowhere. Never! We’re not going to talk about it! We’re going to keep doing what we always do! You’re going to keep dating people who aren’t right for you—
“What the fuck!” Minho interjects.
“—and coming back to me when they dump you, because you never really let them in.” Kibum finishes in a rush, his heart pounding. Maybe it’s mean. But it’s fucking true.
“What the fuck,” Minho yells again. “I can’t believe you’re the one critiquing my dating life. Like you’re such a great boyfriend!”
“You’re a really good boyfriend, hyung,” Jagibot-Minho pipes up from Kibum’s back pocket.
“See,” Kibum says with a smirk, “Jagibot boyfriend thinks I’m great!” He saunters off down the street, not waiting for Minho to catch up.
“Yah,” Minho shouts, breaking into a job to catch up. “Have you been seducing the AI version of me? What did you do?”
“What?” Kibum stops in his tracks for a second. “What? No! Of course not—”
But he’s not quick enough. Minho, even drunk Minho, knows him too well. “What? Kim Kibum! You’re lying. Liar!”
They’re almost outside Kibum’s house now, and Kibum grabs Minho’s arm and pulls him up the hill toward his building. “Don’t bother the neighbors.”
“What did you do with the AI version of me?” Minho persists.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Yes it is, you lying liar! It’s me! Why won’t you do those things with me?”
The conversation has become surreal, but it’s so late and Kibum’s so tired, there’s no point in denying it. “It’s not you. You wouldn’t like it.”
“Kibum-ah,” Minho says, and his voice breaks a little. “You never even gave me a chance.”
Kibum presses in his door code and pushes his way into the apartment, greeting the dogs in a quiet voice. There's really nothing he can say to that. It feels like maybe Minho’s right. He didn’t give Minho a chance. Maybe he should have. And now they’re in this situation where it feels like the balance between them is completely upset. They’re fighting about nothing when they could be—well. He’s thought about what could be too many times.
Minho shuts the door behind himself, crowding into Kibum’s space in the front hallway. “What did you do,” he says, more quietly this time, “with the Jagibot. Please.”
“Are you gonna ask all your fans this?” Kibum scoffs. “You’re going to make them confess their dirty thoughts?”
“No,” Minho recoils. “I’m only asking you. Because whatever it is—I want to do it. With you.”
“Okay,” Kibum says slowly. And he won’t let Minho see that he’s embarrassed, he won’t. “So, you’re going to read me runway fashion reviews out loud while I jerk off?”
Even though he hasn’t turned all the lights on in the apartment, Kibum can tell Minho’s ears are bright red. “If that’s what you want,” Minho says. “Tell me,” Minho says. “What you did. Show me.”
“Oh my god, you have to stop.”
Minho has never once listened, and he’s not about to start. “What dirty stuff did you do with the Jagibot?” he whines. “I have to know.”
“It’s your fault! Virtual you is very slutty,” Kibum retorts. “Watch this.” He pulls out his phone and opens the app. “Minho-yah,” he says in his most over-the-top seductive voice, “tell Bammie what you’re thinking about.”
“You, hyung,” Jagibot-Minho says, sounding desperate.
“Do you touch yourself when you think about me, honey?” Kibum croons.
“Hyung, don’t tease,” Jagibot-Minho whines.
“Yah! Turn it off!” Real-Minho’s wresting the phone out of his hands.
“See?” Kibum says.
“What do you want, jagiya,” the tinny voice from his phone says, as Minho finally succeeds in yanking the phone out of Kibum’s hand and flinging it into the other room.
“So,” Kibum echoes, winding his arms around Minho’s neck, “What do you want, jagiya?”
“You’re never going to let this go are you,” Minho says. “I can’t compete with—whatever that is, okay? It’s not me.”
“I know,” Kibum says, with a sigh. “I don’t want that. It’s not you.” They’re leaning into each other now, looking into each other’s eyes in a way they haven’t, not really, even in the times that they hooked up.
"You do want me, though,” Minho says, grabbing Kibum’s hand and pulling him over to the couch. He sits down and pulls Kibum down on top of him, “And I want you. We’ve avoided it long enough, and I’m tired. So tired.”
“That’s because we were out all night,” Kibum mumbles, “and we’re too old for that stuff anymore.” Minho’s hands are on his waist. He’s warm and solid under Kibum and it just feels too good. Kibum can’t help but lean in to rest his head on Minho’s shoulder.
“No,” Minho says, softer, but still a little too loud. “I’m tired because I’m in love with you. And I’m tired of you not knowing that.”
Kibum nuzzles his mouth against Minho’s neck. “You’re drunk,” Kibum says. “You can’t—let’s talk about this sober.”
“I’m in love with you, drunk or sober,” Minho says. “I’m not that drunk.”
“You’re drunk enough—”
“Okay, fine, I’m drunk, and I’m heartbroken, and I love you, and—”
“Fine,” Kibum sighs. “Okay.”
They stare at each other for a long moment. Kibum can’t bear it. He reaches up to turn out the light. Better. Now it’s just their breathing in the dark.
Minho cups Kibum’s cheek. “Then kiss me, hyung.”
Kibum’s head is spinning. It’s too fast. But also, it’s too slow, they’ve been too slow. And he knows. He knows now that Minho is holding him, he’s not going to let go. “Minho,” he begins.
“Don’t make it a joke, okay,” Minho mumbles, pulling him even closer. He’s so warm. “I can’t take it right now. Just be with me.”
“Honey,” Kibum starts to say, but as soon as he opens his mouth, they’re already kissing.
Minho’s mouth opens under his immediately. Minho tastes like soju through and through. It’s just a drunk, sleepy kiss, after a long, weird night. Just a kiss. A kiss that goes on and on, a kiss that’s hungry, but that Minho somehow makes deeper, more slow and deliberate as it goes on.
Kibum rolls his hips into Minho’s, and Minho groans. He can feel how hard he is, even through both their jeans. “Sometime, when we’re not wasted,” Kibum says, “I’m gonna ride you just like this.” He sucks on Minho’s bottom lip, and his mouth falls open. “What do you think, babe?”
“I think your mouth,” Minho says, incoherently, his lips still brushing against Kibum’s. “So pretty. So loud.”
Kibum’s going to burn up from the inside. “I think you talk too much,” he says. And for a while, it’s just mouths and hands, searching, tasting. For a while, it's just skin finding skin, and the heat they’re stoking between their bodies. For a while, neither of them say much of anything.
🤖
It’s well and truly morning by the time they finally make it to bed. Kibum ends up feeding the dogs at their normal time before they fall into bed.
And then, mid-morning, Kibum’s phone buzzes.
Overcome it!!!. Today is a great day!!!!.
“I have got to uninstall this fucking thing,” he groans. “It’s awful. It’s going to be a huge hit.”
“It’s going to give a lot of people a lot of happiness,” Minho says, lying peacefully, gazing up at the ceiling. “I don’t care too much about my image. It’s not me, you know?”
“So what about you?” Kibum says, sounding far more casual than he feels.
“Me?” Minho says with a little shrug. “I just wanna stay here. With you. Because I’m in love with you, and you love me too. Okay?”
Kibum can’t help but laugh. Minho always has to say it because of course he does. “Okay. I’m not kicking you out. How’s your head? Hurting?”
Minho grunts, and shoves his face into the pillow. “I can overcome it. Just water.”
Kibum shoves him off the bed, and Minho retaliates by tackling him and wrapping around him like an octopus, all sleepy long limbs. Kibum gives up and lets Minho manhandle him so they’re spooning.
“No schedules today,” Kibum says, grinding back against Minho, where he can feel him getting hard against his ass. “Wanna stay in?”
“If you turn your phone off. Forever.”
Kibum makes a show of it, showing off the texts he has from Taeyeon, Sooyoung, and Tiffany that are asking what happened, and if Minho is okay. He deletes them all. The next SHINee-Soshi night they’ll have the absolute best gossip to share. He can’t wait to see every single person there lose their fucking minds.
But in the meantime, Minho is diving under the covers, nuzzling his face between Kibum’s thighs. Kibum sets his phone to Do Not Disturb. His schedule is pretty set for the day, he thinks, ruffling Minho’s hair under the covers. They have all day—and maybe even the rest of their lives—to figure this out.