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Minho is a bundle of nerves in the waiting room as he anticipates his name to be called. The air is too tight, too damp, and has a faint stench of sweat from the in and out use of competitors who used the space before him. He jumps up and down, practicing deep breaths in his pre-match ritual. He doesn't know if it really helps his anxiety or if it's just something to keep him from imploding if he stays still.
He hears the timekeeper's bell ring in intervals and counts down how much time left until his fight. Not the best thing to ease himself, he knows, but he can't help it. Gyunam appears in front of him amidst his clouded thoughts with hand wrap. Minho holds both out subconsciously and allows Gyunam to do his work while he thinks about how to not fuck up tonight. He's been at the top of his league recently and with big names watching tonight, he's closer than ever to getting noticed by national leagues—the ones who'd pay him more than a couple hundred won per fight. Gyunam finishes wrapping his hands and Minho does his typical stretches to make sure everything's right. Right and left hooks to the sandbag in the waiting area until his knuckles threaten to split without his gloves.
An official briefly steps into the room and lets Minho and his team know that he has a few minutes until he's on. Gyunam and his assistant coach approach Minho with his gloves and mouthguard. He allows his hands to slide into the gloves but asks for a moment before the mouthguard is placed.
He turns toward the seating area in the room and faces Kibum, who is on the couch nosedeep on his phone. As if he felt Minho staring, Kibum looks up and smiles. Minho can't help but to reciprocate the gesture, his smile trembling with anxiety and fear of going out there tonight and making a joke out of himself. Kibum senses Minho's fear, he always does, and rises from the couch to pull Minho into a hug. Minho can't as much hug him back with his gloves on, but he wraps his arms around Kibum's waist as he nuzzles his face into Kibum's neck. Kibum doesn't have to say much, he never does, his embrace is enough. Warm with just enough pressure that allows Minho's body to loosen a bit—it's home among the chaos that his mind currently ensues.
"I'm scared," Minho mutters into Kibum's shoulder, loud enough for only the two of them to hear.
Kibum hugs him tighter in response. "I know you are," he says. "You're going to crush it though. You always do."
Minho exhales wearily. "Tonight just feels... different."
"Mmm, how so?" Kibum pulls away and looks at Minho, attempting to discern what goes through his mind at the moment.
"I don't know, just so many eyes tonight.. I don't want to fuck up," he admits.
Kibum gives him a look of both understanding and telling him to get a grip. He says neither, instead he hoists himself up a hair on his toes and kisses Minho's cheek. Minho can already see the stain Kibum's lip oil will leave before he feels the stickiness when Kibum pulls back and smiles at him again sweetly. It makes Minho feel empowered and vulnerable at the same time. How someone can undo him so easily? How Kibum always knows what Minho needs—when he needs it—how he knows when to be Minho's headache and when to be his pleasure. It's ludicrous but beautiful, Minho thinks.
"Win or lose, those people will know your name. That's all that matters." Kibum's holds him by his shoulders, putting on that stupid coach voice that always makes him laugh.
Minho chuckles into the kiss that he places on Kibum's lips. "Thank you, baby."
They're given no time to dwell further in the moment as Minho is called into the ring. He turns to Gyunam, who slides his mouthguard into place, and takes shape behind Minho as his second, with the assistant coach trailing closely behind the two.
The arena is small but bustling with bodies and voices. Eyes who take the form of admiring Minho or completely ignoring him. He is a novice fighter by all means so he never expects much, the support of his close circle is all he truly needs. He crouches through the ropes and bows to all four corners of the ring before taking his place at his corner. A stool is placed briefly for him to sit but he declines, needing all the momentum he can get into his fight. Gyunam gives him a few words of wisdom, reminding him of the techniques that Minho frequently screws up, and pats him on the back as the referee calls Minho and his opponent to the center ring. Minho briefly sees Kibum at ringside, who gives him a thumbs up, before turning to greet his opponent.
It's someone Minho has never seen before. Not in his league or even in outside leagues around Seoul. Minho can't really tell if he's Korean, but he has some features that favor Korean culture. He is slightly larger than Minho, but not in an intimidating way. Not that anyone could ever intimidate Minho anyway. They share a bow toward one another and touch gloves and Minho has never felt a shiver electrify his spine the way it currently does. The look the guy gives Minho, it isn't normal. It's cold and daunting in a way. It makes Minho second guess anything he's ever done this week to prepare for this match. But he knows he doesn't have time to relish in the fact so Minho does what he does best, he overcomes it and gets his head back in the game.
The referee calls the match and the bell for the first round rings. Minho is left with no time to think before his opponent is an inch away from him throwing the first punch. Minho dodges by a sliver and maneuvers around him, preparing to catch the guy from behind and land his first hit. It's only that this guy is fast and catches Minho in a vulnerable spot. The punch has the weight of a thousand men and Minho feels for the first time what he is in for tonight. It guts him briefly and he has to catch his breath in order to avoid the incoming combo the guy throws at him. Minho holds his guard up and when the guy takes a step back to deliver his next combo, Minho hits him with a right hook that lands right where he needs it to. A few oohs deliver from the crowd.
The first round stays that way, a fair fight between the two that makes Minho think that he has a decent chance against the unfamiliar. The bell is rang and Minho is pulled into his corner where Gyunam examines him briefly before giving him pointers on how to get this guy off-balance to get an advantage. Minho listens while the assistant coach provides him with water, taking in as much information as he possibly can before the timekeeper announces that the second round is beginning.
Minho takes Gyunam's advice and the second round is all in his favor. He lands several headshots that the ref briefly pauses the round to check his opponent—a flashlight shining quickly into the man's eyes before he's cleared to continue competing. Minho smiles to himself as he has him right where he wants him. The second round continues and Minho keeps the upper hand. The bell concludes the round and Minho watches the guy stumble into his corner and spit flow from his mouthguard into a bucket—the clear water turning red almost instantly.
The third round is when Minho gets way in over his head. It's a fair fight between the two for the first half of it. The guy lands some decent hits on Minho. A clean uppercut that made Minho bite his tongue. Minho has his fair share of the advantage as well. It's only that Minho thinks he gets too comfortable, maybe he didn't expect the unexpected, or maybe this guy was just that much better than he thought. Minho heard the timekeeper indicate that the round was coming close to an end, he was confident that the match would go in his favor. That until Minho jolts forward to throw his next punch when he's hit with a jab straight to his temple. It blurs his vision for a moment which throws him off-balance. He steps in one-two, trying to regain himself when a hook comes clean to the side of his head, zoning in on his temple again and succeeding.
Minho goes down and his lights go out.
The first thing Minho feels is the pounding of his head, nearly beating its way through his skull. His eyes flicker open once, then twice, then he shuts them because the light is too bright. He curses in groans as his head reels and then he remembers that he's in the middle of a match. A match that he's just about to win. He throws his body upwards and his head beats him for it. Hand to his head, Minho struggles to open his eyes but he does after a few tries, getting accustomed to the harsh fluorescents.
It's only that he's no longer in the ring. He's in the medical examiner's office. Kibum stands in front of him, arms folded and chewing on his lip, a mixture of relief and worry read over him.
Minho whips his body to the left then to the right, his head sloshes and his vision blurs. He feels the warmth of a palm on his shoulder and turns to see Kibum. "No, honey. Don't do that. You're in a lot of pain right now." His voice is low, loud enough for Minho to hear but a level of calm that he fears he may need right now.
"Wh— what happened?"
Kibum stares long at Minho and sighs as if he's unsure how to break the inevitable to Minho. He runs a hand across his face before giving Minho's shoulder a light squeeze.
"Did I get knocked out?" Minho blurts, unable to bare the pain of waiting, watching Kibum muster up the courage to tell Minho something he would never want to hear. Kibum only nods in response.
"Are you serious?" Minho asks. And it's so obvious because why else would he be sitting on a bed like this right now, but he wants to think that this is a joke and nothing like that could ever happen to him.
Kibum gives Minho a smile, pity. "Honey, you did amazing. I—"
"No.. no," Minho interjects, holding a hand up. "Don't sugarcoat it. How long was I out for?"
"Just a few seconds. You got back up on your own and was able to stand for a while."
"A while?" Minho asks.
"You.. went back down," Kibum looks away. "While they were announcing the results. They had to escort you back here. It's only been about five minutes since this all happened."
Minho's head reels and it makes his stomach churn. It feels like he's taken the worst nap of his life. He's embarrassed—no, no, embarrassment is just the scathe of what he is right now. He's humiliated, he can't even bare show his face again after this. With so many big names in the audience tonight that just watched him take the biggest loss of his career so far. He's doomed. There's nothing left for him. He's work so hard up until now for what? To be knocked out by a man who he doesn't even know the name of. Minho can overcome a lot of things, but this feels like the end for him.
He should've just taken up soccer like his father wanted for him, but he wanted to carve his own path. He went to a boxing match once a few years ago and decided that it was what he wanted to do with his life. He dropped out of college to take up training full time and still after so long, he's still stuck in the novice division barely making enough to support himself, let alone his fiancé who looks at him with concern, watching Minho crucify himself in his head.
Kibum holds both Minho's hands, giving them a squeeze and rubbing circles into the back of his palm. "Honey, you did well. Don't beat yourself u—"
Minho snatches both hands away, his back now facing his fiancé. "Kibum—" he starts and stops, hearing how cold it came out. He can almost see Kibum right now, taken aback at his name being used. "Baby... not right now, okay? I just... I need some time." Minho blurts, just as cold as he started.
There's silence for longer than Minho can handle without turning around and when he does, he meets a Kibum who looks like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide with sadness and fear. They lock eyes and Kibum immediately looks away, his head falling to the floor and he distances his body away from Minho, toward the door.
"I'm sorry... I just want to talk to the medical examiner and then take some time to myself," he mutters, unable to look at Kibum who now stands at the door.
Kibum says nothing that a nod can't before shutting the door behind him. It makes Minho feel like shit. The one person who has been in his corner this entire time, who has never doubted him, who puts a roof over Minho's head and food in his belly, who works overtime just to afford Minho's half of rent for the third month in a row, who stays up late sewing new gear for Minho. Kibum loves him endlessly and wants nothing more than for Minho to succeed. Minho knows it isn't easy for Kibum to see him like this and all he wants is to help, but Minho can't even face himself right now, let alone the man he loves.
He's going to have to tell his parents about this. His father who already thinks he's made the wrong choice and his mother who just wants his son happy. His brother who won't know how to comfort his younger, because how do you tell someone who got knocked out that everything will be okay?
Maybe he's overreacting. Heat of the moment thing. Maybe all he needs is a good meal and some rest and he can wake up tomorrow in a better mood, ready to take on the day and train to make his next performance better than his last.
The medical examiner enters the room shortly after Kibum leaves and informs Minho that he's on concussion watch for the next forty-eight hours. Which means rest. Which means no training. Which means more time for Minho to lie in bed and dwell over the fact that he just got knocked out.
He's given some pain meds, a packet for the concussion watch protocol, and left by himself in the room afterwards. Minho faces the wall again and sulks. He didn't even know the guys name. He can barely recall what he looked like. He just got knocked out by some random and is expected to carry on with his life like everything is fine. His life is over. He should just get ready beg to his father to get him into a soccer academy so he can begin pro training. He's always been good at soccer, anyway. But growing up with Minseok who has always been better than him and then did take up the pro league, Minho just wanted to do something else. He wanted to be different, be his own person, no matter how much he loved soccer. But he's quickly starting to realize how much of a mistake that was.
Gyunam checks on him momentarily, telling Minho all that he did right and ensures Minho that once he rests up, they'll break down everything that happened. He spares Minho two pats on the back and tells him not to get too caught up in his head before leaving him to do just that.
If he could, he'd hit himself in the head again. If he could, he'd cry. But he's already in so much pain and despair as is, there's no need in beating the dead horse. So after what feels like an eternity of sulking, he musters the energy to stand up and head outside.
He makes his way to the main lobby where Kibum is with all of his belongings in hand as if he doesn't want Minho to worry about a thing. He gives Minho a smile before gesturing for Minho to follow behind. And he does. It's a summer's night outside. Cool in a warm way, in a way that's so inviting of recreation and entertainment, but all Minho feels right now is somber. Kibum looks back at him a few times as they walk through the parking lot. He attempts to be subtle about it, but nothing's subtle about Kibum through Minho's eyes. Minho gives him a smile when they accidentally lock eyes, Kibum looks away immediately as if he's done the wrong thing.
Kibum drives home, an almost rarity in their relationship, but Kibum gave Minho a look that made him retract when he put his hand on the driver's door handle. Kibum drives slow and safe through Seoul, playing the music low and keeping the air at a neutral temperature. He takes the scenic route, the one that Minho loves.
"You hungry?" Kibum asks, voice no louder than the car radio.
"A little," Minho replies. He'd normally have something fried and greasy by now after cutting and training all week to make his weight requirement, but that's if he was a winner tonight. He never wrote down what his KO'd post-match meal would look like.
"Wanna stop somewhere?" Kibum offers. "There's that burger spot coming up soon."
"Mm-mn, I'm sure there's something at home."
Kibum looks over at him briefly, Minho doesn't catch the look entirely. "Yeah.. there's something, for sure. Some leftovers.. or if you want something, I'll make it."
And that's what makes Minho love Kibum. Even after being so cold toward him, he's still so willing to take care of Minho. It makes Minho feel like an asshole, really. This isn't his first time doing this either. He gets so in his head over his matches, so in his head over training that he pushes his relationship to the back of his mind so often. Yet, Kibum still shows up for him every fight night, still has a meal ready for him after his trainings, and listens endlessly to Minho complain about a match, or an opponent, or even himself. And he just continues to lift Minho up and be his backbone because clearly, he doesn't have one of his own.
Minho feels terrible. Not the headache, not anymore. Not the fact that he got KO'd tonight, not that anymore either. He hasn't been a partner for as long as he can remember. He's been present, yes—he comes home, he kisses Kibum's forehead, cuddles him at night, and wakes up to wish Kibum a good day at work, but that's where it ends. He doesn't remember the last time he's asked Kibum about his day and rubbed his back as he complained about another piece that he had to scrap because his boss didn't like it. He doesn't remember the last time he came home and sat down to watch a crappy drama with Kibum on the couch. He doesn't remember the last date they went on. He doesn't even remember the last time they made love to each other.
The pain hits Minho again, but different this time. His heart beats a little faster and pads of his fingers become sweaty. Why hasn't Kibum said anything? Minho would've changed sooner. But no, he shouldn't blame Kibum for his lack of showing up. Kibum is just scraping by to make it to the next day just like he is, yet he's still everything and more for Minho. Everything he could have ever asked for in his life. Minho can't believe he's been this clouded and selfish for so long.
They arrive to the parking deck of their apartment building. Kibum claims their spot and jumps out of the car to go retrieve Minho's things. His "things" being two duffel bags and a bookbag full of gear that Minho now sees Kibum struggle to carry on their way inside the building. He rushes to grab some of the load off of him and Kibum just gives him an assuring smile as he holds the bags tighter. He fumbles in his pocket to get his keycard out at the door and when he finally retrieves it, he drops it. He squats down with the weight of three bags on him to grab the keycard, face straining and grunting in the process with Minho just watching in bewilderment. Minho picks up the card and takes both his duffel bags on his way back up. Kibum can't even grab onto them before Minho slips them both over his shoulder with ease.
"Honey, your head.." Kibum starts.
Minho smiles as he swipes their way into the building. "Were they heavy?" He teases.
Kibum catches the jab and walks in first while rolling his eyes. They are fairly silent on the elevator ride up. Kibum doesn't look at Minho—which is a good thing. Minho admires him the entire time. The way Kibum always stares and watches the numbers change, his pouted lips slightly parted, anticipating reaching their floor. Minho forgot how blessed he was to be able to take in such natural beauty.
Comme des and Garcons yip their way into the foyer as they enter their apartment. Kibum shushes them endlessly in which they receive none of it. Comme des jumps at Minho's leg, barking until Minho bends down to give him a series of head pants and baby talk in greeting. Kibum attempts to hush him again while pulling the duffel bags off of Minho's shoulders.
The apartment is the way they always leave it. A clean that ends up being messy. Kibum's last minute skin care products scattered on several different tables. Three different gym bags half zipped sitting in the foyer. Toys ripped into shreds by the dogs—more than likely Garcons. A protein shake that Minho swore he put in the fridge for later, sitting on the dining table. It's a reflection of their hectic lifestyles, but it's their home and they wouldn't want it any other way.
Minho strips down one by one and gathers his clothes as he strides into the bathroom to toss them into the hamper. He grabs a pair of shorts from the dryer—Kibum forgetting to fold the laundry once again—and heads into the kitchen.
The kitchen that is already occupied by a frantic Kibum who rummages through the fridge. Hands wild and eyes searching furiously for something to satisfy his fiancé's hunger. He still has on Minho's book bag and it makes Minho giggle a little but also worries him. Has he always been like this? A frenzied ball of anxiety navigating through his everyday life as he struggles to balance the various hats he wears—worker, soon-to-be husband, artist, and just being himself. Minho has never seen him move so fast and not even be able to keep up for himself. He hates himself for playing such a huge role in why Kibum is like this.
Minho pulls the bookbag off of Kibum's shoulders. It falls easily, as if the man hadn't even realized he still had it on. Minho puts a hand on Kibum's back who looks back, a bit shocked to see Minho, but gives a smile nothing less.
"Hey, go lay down," Kibum says, not sparing Minho another look, being more in tune with the fridge. "I'll have something ready soon. How about sundubu-jjigae? We have the tofu cut up already. I can just—"
Minho pulls Kibum by his shoulder, forcing Kibum to face him. "Baby, slow down. Go put your pajamas on. I can wait." He assures him, but it's evident that Kibum doesn't buy it.
Kibum gently pushes Minho's hand away and catches the fridge door with his foot before it fully shuts. "It'll be quick, honey. Just let me.." he turns to go back in the fridge and Minho stands between the two.
"Kibum," he says, intentionally. It brings Kibum to ground zero immediately. He looks back at Minho immediately, a frown upon his lips in frustration yet confusion at Minho's actions.
"Minho," he replies, sounding lost more than anything. "What are you doing?"
"Baby... look at you," Minho gestures up and down. "You haven't changed your clothes— you haven't even taken your shoes off. You still had my bookbag on up until now. You're moving too fast, are you okay?"
Kibum looks at him with soft eyes. He blinks twice as if he's thinking before responding. "I'm— I'm okay. I just want to make sure you eat, Minho. That's all.."
"And baby, I love you for that but I'm fine. I will be just fine. You need to take care of you too."
Kibum's lips tug down. "Honey, you may have a concussion. You need to eat something, like now."
"And I will. But first, I want you to go change and get yourself ready for the night. You always do your skin care before anything else." Minho smiles amidst the pounding of his head that he tries his best to ignore.
"Honey.." Kibum starts.
"Nope," Minho shakes his head, shutting the fridge door and ushering Kibum out of the kitchen. "I can wait. Take care of yourself, please."
Kibum sits at the threshold of the kitchen and stares at Minho for a moment. Not knowing whether to yell at him, throw something at him, or thank him. Minho continues to smile until Kibum backs away slowly and makes his way into the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.
Minho takes it upon himself to tidy up the apartment while he waits. Putting the skincare on Kibum's nightstand where it belongs, his gym bags in the closet, tosses the protein shake, and cleans up remenants of cotton from the destroyed dog toys. Garcons yips at Minho as he gathers the pieces and heads to the trashcan. Minho laughs, knowing who the culprit was, and tosses a piece of the shredded toy the poodle's way. Garcons retrieves it and trots away onto his bed.
He sets a candle, the one he knows Kibum likes but saves for last because he doesn't know when they'll have the spare funds to buy another. He's sure Kibum will bitch at him a bit for lighting it, but appreciate the ambiance it gives nonetheless.
Minho's chugging a glass of water that sends of rush of cold to his head. He needed it, the room began to spin after he set the candle down.
So maybe he does have a concussion, who cares? His life will go on... in a way he isn't quite sure of yet, but he'll figure it out. He always does.
Right now, he's only worried about making his fiancé feel good—feel loved. Kibum emerges from the bathroom—hair pulled back, face moist, and swallowed in his usual silk pajama set. He skims the apartment and then finds Minho in the kitchen, rushing to his aid immediately.
"Go sit down, love." Kibum lightly pushes Minho into the threshold. "Why are you still up and around? Doesn't your head hurt?"
Minho doesn't budge. Instead, he wraps an arm around Kibum's waist, gently guiding them out of the kitchen. "I'm okay, baby."
Kibum is light yet firm to the touch, he backs out of the kitchen aimlessly, almost a feather to Minho's touch. "Okay, that's good. Go have a seat, let me make something really quick, yeah?"
"I'm not that hungry anymore," Minho says, voice low.
Kibum cocks an eyebrow upward. "Yeah, not buying it." He attempts to free himself from Minho's hold, Minho doesn't budge. "Minho, what are you doing? Let me go. I'm trying to help you." His voice surges up a bit, a tell-tale that he's becoming agitated.
Minho holds him tighter, kissing his forehead. Kibum swats at him, cursing something about his serum not fully settled yet, it doesn't stop Minho from showering kisses across Kibum's forehead, wet and sloppy on his cheeks and eventually on his lips. Kibum giggles subconsciously, but still tries to wriggle his way out.
"Okay, okay.." Kibum laughs. "I love you too. Now can I go make your dinner?"
Minho pouts. "Later? Let me hold you for a bit longer.."
His voice drops octaves lower and only then does Kibum look up at him and pick up what he's putting down. He fights his smirk, dimple slightly on display, and puckers his lips out for another kiss that Minho receives immediately.
Kibum latches his arms around Minho's neck and his body sinks into the embrace. Their bodies like suction cups. Minho keeps one arm wrapped around Kibum's waist, the other trails down and his fingers graze over Kibum's ass, feeling the plush of his skin through the silk. Kibum breathes softly into Minho's mouth at the touch, like he wants more. Minho knows he wants more, he wants it himself.
"I miss you," Minho whispers down Kibum's throat, voice hot and heavy.
Kibum pulls away and looks at him and smiles. "I'm right here, honey. I've always been right here."
"Yeah, but.." Minho blinks a fallen hair away that he probably should've cut ages ago, but Kibum loves the long, shaggy look. "I still miss you... us. I miss us. I've been so busy... I know I haven't made much time for you—for us."
Kibum gives him a look—finally almost if—but he suppresses it, doesn't want Minho to feel worse than he already does. He pushes the stray hair past Minho's ear, lips soft in the smile that never fades and waiting to be touched again. "Yeah... but I get it, Minho. You're busy, I'm busy. It gets like that sometimes. I'm not mad at you."
"You don't have to be mad at me. I'm mad at myself," he admits. "You do so much for me and I can't even take a day off for you. And I'm only realizing it after I've been knocked out."
Kibum scrunches his face, as if what he's about to say may sting. "Maybe you needed the rearrangement."
Minho can't help but laugh and sees the relief wear Kibum afterwards. "Maybe I did.." His heart is beating its way out of his chest, making the throbbing of his head almost unnoticeable. "Let me make it up to you?"
Kibum scans Minho thoroughly, like he's searching for the pain in Minho's eyes. Like he wants everything that Minho has to offer but doesn't want to hurt him. Minho kisses his nose in reassurance that he wants this. He needs this. He hasn't needed anything else more than this ever in his life. Desperation. Kibum feels it and tilts his head upward to meet Minho's lips once again.
The kiss is intense yet gentle. Like waves against each other, but soft as they reach the shore. Minho holds Kibum tighter. Kibum lightly tugs at Minho's hair, making him push further toward him. Minho holds Kibum by his waist and guides him toward the couch. Kibum almost falls for it before pulling away to turn and see the furniture behind him.
He looks back at Minho and kisses his forehead. "Mm-mn, you know we can't wash that."
They both laugh at the fact because it's true. Minho lifts Kibum up, effortlessly, and carries him bridal-style into their bedroom. Kibum laughs at how childish it is, but secretly loves it. Minho gently places him on the bed and cuts the bedside lamp on, needing to see his pretty face. Kibum looks at him breathlessly, lips slightly parted, face flushed a rosy pink, eyes low and greedy. Minho drinks it up. He leans over the bed and kisses over Kibum, up and down his face, down to the open sliver of skin peeking through his silk top. Minho breathes hot over the areas on Kibum's neck that completely unwinds him. Kibum breathes out a moan in response, pulling Minho closer to him until Minho's weight is on his.
Minho holds himself up on a forearm and Kibum cups his face with both palms—soft, warm, home. Minho melts under his touch, feeling the stretch of his shorts already. So early on, but who is he kidding? He's been horny since the elevator ride up—really since the ride home. Maybe he's been this horny for weeks—months—since the last time they've been intimate. It makes him kiss Kibum harder, suck down on the skin where he left his breath.
"Oh, fuck.." Kibum whispers out. He reaches back up to grab Minho's hair, tighter this time, almost in disdain to Minho's pain.
Only now can Minho feel nothing but the pain that is his dick aching to be touched, to be acknowledged. And Kibum gasping and hissing under him only unravels him more. Minho forgot how easy he was, how all Kibum has to do is really look at him and Minho is putty. He's been so clouded by the desire to win this fight and that fight and the urge to train harder that he's pushed the one that he needs most behind him. He's angry, yet ashamed... for more than one reason tonight, but right now that he let things go this far. And neither of them said a thing. He can see just how bad Kibum wants this too. How his body arches upward to meet Minho's even more, how moist his palms are against Minho's cheeks, how he gasps and moans and sighs and Minho isn't even touching him yet. It drives him crazy, really.
Minho kisses lightly at the blooming bruises left down Kibum's chest and seeps his hand down to the silk bottoms, through the waistband, and trails his fingers up and down Kibum's erection. Kibum lets out a moan louder than they both anticipated and his body squirms. Minho rubs a finger around the tip, gathering a string of precum and his hand leaves the warmth under Kibum's pants. He looks down at Kibum as he sucks on said finger, the salty yet sweet taste that he didn't know he was craving until now. Kibum watches with lips agape, eyes hungry and lingering on Minho's lips.
"You want a taste?" Minho offers, raising a brow in question.
Kibum only smiles. "I wanna taste you."
It leaves Minho a little winded. Before he can take it all in, Kibum has him flipping onto his back. He allows it all to happen. Kibum feeling on Minho's bare chest, lightly pinching a nipple while he sucks on the adjacent side, taking majority of the pec in his mouth, swirling his tongue on Minho's nipple which makes him jolt and twist, breathing heavy under him. Kibum drags his tongue down Minho's abdomen, over his toned core, and onto his pelvis. Kibum looks up at him before dragging down Minho's shorts. Minho doesn't say a word—he can't—he's in awe of the man that he is in love with and his ability to easily wrap Minho around his finger by doing so little.
Minho's dick springs up once his shorts are finally down. Kibum breathes hot over it. Minho is so eager and desperate, wanting to fuck his throat immediately. Kibum looks up at him and Minho swears the room begins to spin.
Kibum leans down and kisses the base and Minho wants to apologize for the unshaven look he has going on—he's had no time to engage in hygiene other than a basic shower and shaving of his stubble every morning—but it seems as if Kibum doesn't mind it, maybe likes it even as he showers Minho with pecks at his base, leaving Minho aching for more.
"Fuck, Kibum-ah..." he groans. "I— I can't..."
Kibum looks back up. "You can't? Can't what?"
Minho practically pants. His dick is leaking precum and it's almost as if Kibum is coy to it. His lips only inches away from the tip. "I just..."
Kibum hauls his tongue from the base up Minho's dick and stops right at the tip. He raises an eyebrow. "Hmm?"
Minho bites down on his bottom lip to keep from cursing. He can't stop his hips from slightly jerking upward. Kibum backs up, as if he knows exactly what's going through Minho's head.
"I need this..." Minho whispers.
"You need this," Kibum mirrors. "Need what?"
"You... touch me, suck me off, I need something," he says and doesn't even realize how desperate he is right now.
Kibum smirks and completely pulls away from Minho. The space is agonizing already. Minho feels himself drop and almost feels sick. He lies there, dick hard and glistening with precum, and feels like he's just been abandoned.
Kibum only stares down at him with the most innocent yet intent eyes. His dick sticks slightly upward as it pokes through the waistband of his pajama bottoms, still covered by his briefs. Minho's confused because he knows Kibum wants this too. Did he say something wrong? Did he come on too strong? Kibum bends down only to kiss his tip and when he comes back up, a thread of precum clings to his bottom lip and stretches upward with him. Kibum licks it, catching the rest with a finger and sucking that clean, hollowing his cheeks in the process. Minho feels dizzy and can't find the words to tell Kibum how crazy he's making him feel.
"You can't need me that bad, Minho-yah," Kibum says, looking down at Minho while on his knees.
If only he knew.. Minho could cum at just the sight of him. "I do, Kibum-ah.. I really do..."
Kibum scoffs. "Yeah? And what about the past two months? When you walk in from training, eat the dinner I make you, and then go to bed like I don't even exist? Did you need me then?"
Minho just stares, not entirely sure how to take in the information. It's not like Kibum is wrong.. Minho hasn't been present, not mentally and barely physically. He spends more than half of his day out of their apartment and when he gets home all he wants to do sleep. He can't pretend and act like he hasn't seen the hurt in Kibum when he sometimes doesn't even go over to the couch to kiss him goodnight.
"You know, I almost had this thought... this thought that maybe there's someone else."
Minho sits up at this. Backs himself up onto the headboard and looks at Kibum like just maybe he's lost his mind. "What? Kibum, why would there ever be someone else?"
Kibum shrugs, feign to Minho's shock. "I mean, how hard is it for you to fuck Gyunam? You're spending like ten hours with him at a time. You're telling me you haven't even once had a thought?" His tone is suggestive, like he wants Minho to answer yes, like that's something normal to say yes to.
"No, Kibum. Never." Minho's eyebrows furrow together and he runs both hands through his hair. His head starts to hurt again. No way he just sparked an argument tonight. Maybe he should've just accepted dinner and rested.
But Kibum still has this look, almost like he's enjoying this. It sends an ache of annoyance through his chest. "No? Never? So you're telling me you haven't gotten off in two months."
Minho jogs his memory and he may sound silly, but he doesn't think he has. He hasn't even been horny. Well, he has, but he hasn't had the time to think about it and how to solve his arousal. And he sure as hell hasn't thought about fucking his trainer. As painful as it's been, he's ignored the daily hard on he's had almost every morning. Even when he's snuggled up against Kibum and his dick is only a few inches away from grinding against his ass and providing him with some kind of relief, he just hasn't.
"You haven't been horny during a training session and looked at your just as sweaty coach and thought about how Kibum wouldn't know if you guys did it just once?" Kibum continues. "Come on, Minho-yah."
"Kibum, what are you saying right now?" Minho raises his voice by a tad. It isn't on purpose, he just can't be bothered with how insane his fiancé sounds right now. "No, I have never once ever thought about that. You know where my heart and my eyes lie. And if you didn't, I can tell you now that it's you. Yes, I haven't had as much time for us, but that doesn't mean that I don't think about you. And it sure as hell doesn't mean that I'd be so stupid and desperate to entertain another man. No, I haven't gotten off in two months and it's tortured me each and every day. I see you, I see the way you sometimes wear pajama shorts that show too much skin because you want me to look, the way you sometimes shower with the bathroom door wide open, the way you strut past me while eating dinner and pretend to drop something just so you can bend over in front of me. I see it all Kibum and I want you... I want you so bad, but I've been so tired, baby. And I'm sorry. You are everything to me and I will never have eyes for another man. I hate that it's taken this much for me to realize it, but I'm here now and I want this—you... I need you. So, so bad, Kibum-ah." Minho's eyes have began to water, wide and needy staring at Kibum who still sits on his knees, looking back at Minho with such greed. "Can you understand that?" He asks.
Kibum licks his lips and just nods, like he's satisfied. "Good boy."
Kibum crawls up the bed and back onto Minho, palms still burning with heat that he wraps about Minho's dick and gives it a few slow strokes. Minho's chest only heaves up and down in response. He doesn't know how to feel or what to do or what Kibum just did to him, but it got them closer to each other.
"I didn't know you could beg for me like that, honey." Kibum leans over to whisper in his ear, nibbling on his earlobe afterward.
Minho grabs his face and pushes upward to kiss him. It's nowhere near nice this time. Messy, hot and ravenous. Kibum strokes his dick faster and Minho has to hold down his orgasm from spilling all over Kibum's hand because he doesn't want this to stop here. Kibum grinds against Minho's thigh in invitation for to touch him as well, which Minho accepts. He drags down the waistband of Kibum's pants until his dick falls out and grazes Minho's hand. Minho takes it and begins to pump Kibum as well. He is far more louder than Minho, whimpering into his mouth, biting his bottom lip and squeezing his dick tighter which makes Minho seize in bliss.
"You want me that bad, Minho-yah?" Kibum says into his mouth, nails digging into Minho's back as he holds on for dear life, grinding harder onto Minho, making a mess of precum all over his thigh.
Minho's quads flex. The feeling of Kibum's precum leaking onto his skin turns him on so much. "Fuck yes, so much, baby..."
Kibum hums in approval. They continue to stroke each other's dicks, moaning symphonies and breathing heavy into each other's mouths. Minho genuinely doesn't know how much he's able to take past this. Kibum's hand is a sloppy wet mess from precum, making Minho squirm from the slickness. Minho's thigh is sticky with Kibum's, beginning to drip off of the sides and onto the duvet. Kibum hums a sigh and pushes Minho's hand off of him, letting go of his dick as well. Minho misses his big hand wrapped around him as soon as it's gone but then Kibum folds back onto his knees and places one hand on Minho's abs to support himself while going down on him.
He releases sounds unknown to mankind while Kibum sucks him off. Kibum watches him the entire time too. Eyes lewd and sharp watching Minho unravel. Kibum is merciless, taking in all of Minho's length. It hits the back of his throat, making him coughs and choke, but he keeps going. Spit bubbles forming and painting Kibum's lips as they splatter. His plump, rosy lips that Minho finds himself staring at instead of his eyes because if he gets lost in them, he'll explode. Minho wants to kiss him, touch him, and fuck him until he makes him cry all at once. He's getting so hot and the room spins faster and faster. Kibum forces the tip down his throat, making his eyes water and cheeks flush with heat, but he'll struggle a million times over to see Minho like this.
Minho's hand holds on to the bed for dear life. The other is dug into Kibum's hair, gripping and pushing his head down further onto his dick, until Kibum's lips nuzzle against Minho's pubes. He fucks Kibum's throat kind and slow at first, letting Kibum get acclimated to the sudden change. Kibum coughs out whimpers over his dick, but the way he pushes his head down faster sends signals to Minho that he wants more, that this isn't enough. Minho bucks his hips up even faster, harder. Kibum moans over him in approval, one hand on Minho's thigh and one hand on his core. Minho's head is nothing but clouds, he tries to think hard about something else, anything but how good Kibum is making him feel. He feels himself letting go and the fight to hold on, to savor in the moment furthermore is slim to nothing.
His hips lose their rhythm and his fingers slip in and out of Kibum's hair. "Mmm, baby.. I— I'm gonna cum..."
Kibum says nothing in response. He uses both hands to push Minho down, taking over and bobbing his head faster and grimmer than before. Minho struggles to breathe rationally, he stutters out moans and his head won't stop spinning. He feels all the blood in his body rush to his dick and his body shakes vigorously as he cums into Kibum's mouth, down his throat. Kibum takes him in slow and hard. Minho opens his eyes to see Kibum staring him down, like predator to prey. He swallows Minho whole, not a drop of his seed seeing the light of day.
Kibum kisses Minho's thighs before finally sitting up, panting but making everything seem so effortless in the same breath. Minho smiles at his beauty and motions for Kibum to come forth. He does and they kiss messy yet soft. Minho tastes rememants of himself on Kibum's lips, on his tongue. He doesn't mind, if anything it turns him on more. He feels the still stiffness of his member as Kibum brushes against it.
"You still have to fuck me." Kibum whispers into his mouth.
Minho chuckles. "Oh, I know.. how do you want me?"
Kibum reaches upward to kiss Minho's temples. "Stay just like this, mister light duty."
Minho scoffs at the joke. Kibum giggles at himself, but quickly turns into a hiss when Minho slaps his ass, his plushy skin rippling against Minho's palm. He stonewalls Minho who laughs back at him.
"Fuck you," he says which Minho knows he does but doesn't mean. He rubs on Kibum's ass in apology for a few seconds before slipping two fingers in his hole. Kibum's mouth falls agape as he gasps. He screws his eyes shut and folds his lips in as Minho fucks him with his fingers. "Mmm, shit..." he mumbles out.
Kibum grabs his own dick, coating his palm in precum and reaches behind him to pull Minho's fingers out of him, stroking them a few times before allowing Minho to slip them back inside. It goes in easier this time, allowing Kibum to relish in the moment. Kibum has always been like this—nasty and needy but patient, always getting his way with Minho.
Minho doesn't mind it, he loves it actually. Always being someone who takes the lead, taking the initiative and being headstrong, he sometimes needs to be grounded, to be controlled. He wouldn't want anyone but Kibum to be his puppeteer.
Minho lets Kibum get situated for the moment before replacing his two fingers with his member. He only brushes the rim with it, letting Kibum do with him what he wants. Kibum grips onto Minho's thighs as he sits down slowly on his dick. He grunts, then whimpers, then moans as he takes it in. Minho watches it all unfold—the way Kibum's eyes roll back before he shuts them, the way he breathes deep, letting out a moan that bounces off the walls as he finds his rhythm, the way his nails dig into Minho's skin. Minho likes the pain Kibum puts him through, likes to see Kibum struggle then take control of the situation.
"Look at you, baby," Minho says softly. Kibum looks down at him, tears welled in his eyes as he rides him.
"Shut up," Kibum barely gets out. He's still on his knees straddling up and down on Minho. It's slow and Minho feels all of his warmth contracting, pulsating around his dick.
"This is what you wanted though, no?" Minho looks up at Kibum, puppy filled eyes and he can see how crazy it makes Kibum, how he fights to be coy about it.
"Don't ask me a stupid question, Minho." Kibum hisses through his teeth, he moans while he speaks, grinding down on Minho's dick hard and needy.
"Oh, so I beg for you and you can't tell me that you want me?"
Kibum ignores him and continues to rock his hips back and forth. Minho wraps both hands around Kibum's lower waist, pushing his body further onto his dick which makes Kibum yelp and grip down harder on Minho's quads that tighten as his hips jerk upward.
"Fuck, fuck, oh... fuck, Minho..." Kibum tries to take control again, moving to hold his body up on his feet now, but it only gives Minho more leverage. He cups both hands under Kibum's thighs to hold him up and fucks him slower but deeper. Watching how Kibum tries to hold on to anything to lessen the pressure, but can only lean back on one hand while the other palms his mouth. He gasps and pants and whines into his hand while Minho tries his best not to get lost in him.
It feels so good—the pain, the burn, the strain of his legs just to see Kibum like this, it's all worth it. Minho isn't sure how much longer he'll last at this rate. Kibum holds himself up on both hands now, biting down on his bottom lip, head thrown back and hair flying every which way. He's struggling and refuses to let Minho double down on it.
"Can't take it?" Minho asks. Funny as he's grunting himself, a ticking time bomb to his second finish.
"Minho..." Kibum starts but can't finish. Minho is sure some sort of curse word would be in there somewhere, but all he gets in response is Kibum moaning into the room. If this wasn't an expensive apartment with well-built walls, Minho's sure the neighbors would be hearing them by now. Not that either of them would have cared any.
"Will you tell me now?" Minho asks.
Kibum looks down at Minho, eyes red and fluttering and mouth wide. "What?"
"That you need me. How much you want me."
Kibum is breathless. He's stuck between trying to form words and close to incoherent. Minho doesn't stop fucking him. Kibum squeezing tighter around his dick with every stroke. He doesn't even know how he's keeping it together right now. Riding on the adrenaline of also wanting to be praised, he guesses. To be told how bad Kibum has been wanting this, needing this. The dirty things he's done behind Minho's back because he's been so horny and Minho hasn't been there to fuck him. Minho is desperate to hear all of it and pushes down any warnings of a climax until he gets to.
And Kibum fights it, he really does, but it's a tough fight. He's a mess over Minho. His body has nearly given out now, he's back on his knees just letting Minho hold him up and fuck him, still steady which is what drives him crazy. Normally they'd gone for something for up to speed by now, but Kibum is feeling every nerve in his body heat up, ready to let go. But he hasn't had this in so long and he doesn't know when he'll get it again, so he ignores his body's will to finish. His frame draped over Minho's, the silk pajama top sticking to the sweat beaded up on Minho's chest—they're so hot it's uncomfortable, but neither of them feel it. Kibum huffs into Minho's ear, his breath heated and uneven against his skin, Minho can hear how close Kibum is right now but can't let this go without getting his way too.
"Tell me, baby," he says low, voice vibrating down Kibum's neck, making him shiver and whimper.
Kibum's entire body shakes, he doesn't know how much more he can take. "Fuck, Minho... you know I needed this, I don't know why you're asking."
Minho pouts, holding Kibum tighter against him. "Yeah, but me... do you need me?"
Kibum kisses his teeth and Minho finds it so endearing how he still manages to be abrasive at a time like this. "Who else... who else am I going to need, Minho?"
Minho doesn't hold back and slaps Kibum's ass, harder than before—demanding. Kibum yips in response, high pitched in a way that is almost dehumanizing. "Tell me," Minho says, stern.
He cups Kibum's ass in both hands, squeezing hard and fucking only slightly faster into him. It's the perfect uptick to make Kibum truly lose it. "Oh my— god... fuck, okay, Minho, okay..." he blurts, but nothing follows other than muffled moans into Minho's shoulder and attempts at catching his breath.
Minho slaps his ass again. "I said tell me, so say something." It's hard enough to leave a bruise that will sting for the forthcoming days. He knows he won't hear the end of it in due time.
Kibum cries out, his body jerking and tensing afterwards. He gasps and exhales, sharp and rash. "Fuck, Minho... I love you. I love you so much. I want this—you. I need you... so much. I— I don't know... I don't know what to say..."
Minho wants to laugh at the fact the one person who could nag his head off about a million things at once suddenly has nothing to say, but he's too turned on right now at how gone Kibum is that the laugh that comes out is more to keep himself from going down the same route.
He rubs up and down Kibum's back who trembles at the touch yet sinks into it, like he doesn't know what he wants really. "That was perfect, baby. Did you miss me?"
"Yes," Kibum says. He rocks himself back and forth onto Minho's dick now. Minho keeps fucking him, no matter how much his thighs want him to stop.
"How much?"
"So much, honey..."
"Yeah?" Minho presses. "Tell me... tell me how much you missed me."
He feels Kibum's body tense again, like if he doesn't speak in a timely manner, he may end up with another bruise on him tonight. Not that he hates it entirely. "I— I, uh... fucked myself so hard sometimes when you were at training... I wanted it to be you, so badly."
"Mmm, my baby, that's so fucking hot." Minho kisses Kibum's neck greedily, his hunger satiated on the praise. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long."
Kibum sighs long at Minho's tongue on his neck, wet and searching for all the ways to make him louder. "Show me... show me how sorry you are." He manages to get out amidst his struggle.
It almost takes Minho back a step, but he's reminded that this is how they are. Hot and cold, cat and mouse, chasing and receiving... how one moment Minho can dominate the situation and he blinks and Kibum has him on a leash. He loves it, he wouldn't want it any other way. No one could else could ever have him like this.
So he does what he's told: he shows him. He pulls out of Kibum, takes him by the waist again, and throws him on the opposite side of the bed. Kibum is breathless when Minho crawls atop him, swallowing a smile knowing, once again, he's getting his way. Minho uses one hand to hold both of Kibum's above his head and the other to hold his waist. Kibum's hands are far bigger than his, so it wouldn't take much to free himself from the hold, but they both know that he dotes on the restraint deep down. If Minho wasn't feeling so eager to be back inside of Kibum, he'd gone to get their handcuffs, but he has almost no self-control when Kibum looks up at him with the softest, pleading eyes in the world.
Kibum squirms as Minho works him open again, which makes Minho hold him tighter—his soft skin will bruise around his waist and wrists, but that will be a regret for tomorrow morning. He isn't as nice this time, he gives Kibum few complimentary strokes to ease him in before finding a merciless rhythm that makes Kibum arch his back and actually fight to control his hands again. Minho doesn't let go. The sight of Kibum being so gone ignites a fire in him. He keeps this pace and his body will punish him for it soon, but right now he feels nothing but the desire to see Kibum cum all over himself.
Kibum tries to form words, tries to breathe, but it all comes out as a choked sob. Minho watches the tears well in Kibum's eyes again and fall down the adjacent sides of his pretty face. He swears he's only a few more thrusts from becoming undone. He holds it down, he refuses to be this inferior to his fiancé. Kibum's lips quiver as he cries, his entire body stiffens and Minho knows that his end is near too. Minho wants to touch his dick so bad, to stroke Kibum to his climax, but the thought of him cumming untouched, just from how good Minho feels inside of him—that's what gives him some discipline.
Their skin is so wet that the sound of slapping flesh almost becomes a medley. Minho has Kibum's legs folded upward in a way that has to be painful, but Kibum reads no signs of it, just bliss. He holds Kibum's hands now with both his own, his body close enough that he can whisper in Kibum's ear. He supports himself with just the balls of his feet and gives Kibum all of him. It's reckless but desperate, like they both dread the moment coming to an end. The bed was cooperative initially, but now it creaks and revolts in response to the relentless way Minho fucks Kibum, who still produces strangled breaths, obviously not knowing what to do with himself.
"Breathe." Minho grunts into Kibum's ear. "You have to breathe, baby."
Kibum tries and it comes out as a pant, he whines then sobs uncontrollably. "I— I can't..."
"Yeah you can," he says. "Just let it out, mm? It's just me and you right now. You can do it."
Kibum curses before letting out moans that Minho would honestly have to kill over if he ever did for another man. Nails scratch his back as Kibum cries out, deep enough to break skin and draw blood, but Minho can't care right now.
"Good, baby... I love hearing you." Minho says and it may be all he has left, anything more and his body will give up on him.
"I— mmn..." Kibum starts. "I can't... I'm g-gonna cum, Minho."
Minho bites down on his lip, hard enough to make himself bleed, before he speaks. "Mmm, you wanna cum for me, baby?"
"Yes, honey... please..."
It makes Minho dizzy. His body shifts to auto-pilot fucking Kibum as his mind swells. He can't even find the next words to say because he might finish prematurely. He won't though, he can't. His body fills with so much heat that he has to sit up, away from Kibum, and look up to the ceiling to contain himself.
He lets out a moan, long and nasally. "Fuck, baby... let me see you paint yourself. Cum for me."
Kibum frees his hands and grips the duvet as his body stiffens then stutters as he spills out, painting himself white all over his chest. His eyes flutter and tears fall aimlessly as he cries out Minho's name and curses until he can no longer breathe. Minho fucks him until his pace becomes messy and his vision blurs. He pulls out and strokes himself empty onto Kibum. It's so dehumanizing in the most romantic way possible. Kibum looks at him with wet eyes, soaking in all of Minho's glory before they're left to face reality.
The reality that they're going to have to stay up late tonight waiting for the bedding to wash, that Kibum's body will soon begin to sting with freshly bloomed bruises—some he will not know how to cover up at the office—and that Minho is still concussed (potentially) and hungry.
They breathe together, slow and deep, for longer than a while before taking in the room around them. Minho looks to the side and his head sloshes in pain. His eyes squeeze shut and he folds over holding his temples. Kibum becomes aware to the fact that his fiancé definitely was knocked out tonight and they just had rough, passionate sex, completely ignorant to Minho's circumstance.
"Oh, honey." He jumps up to Minho's aid and almost forgets about the semen that is now caking up all over his chest and abdomen until he feels the stickiness crease against his skin. "Shit..." he looks down at himself, disgusted and amused at the same time.
"I got it." Minho holds one side of his head while he half limps to the bathroom for wipes. His quads scream in agony and calves cramp with each step.
He brings the wipes to Kibum and attempts to clean him up before Kibum places his hand over Minho's and gives him a reassuring look. "I can do it. You lay down, okay?"
"I am not laying on this." Minho retorts and Kibum looks behind him to see the mess they've made out of bodily fluids on their bedset.
"Valid," Kibum says. He cleans himself and disposes of the wipes before beginning to strip their bed. Minho tries to help and Kibum gently pushes him away, giving him an eye that is demanding. "Go clean yourself up and lay down on the couch."
It almost hurts Minho's feelings how Kibum can shift demeanors so quickly. He would've liked some aftercare, would've liked to take care of Kibum himself, but he can understand that Kibum only means it from a place of worry.
So he listens. He goes for a brief shower where he actually almost passes out twice from becoming lightheaded with pain. Kibum checked on him twice in the span of ten minutes where Minho promised him he was okay, yet had one hand on the shower wall to hold himself up.
So maybe he isn't as okay as he thought.
He throws on a pair of loose shorts and finds his place on the couch as instructed. Kibum has dimmed the lights for him and already put on a show with low sound and soft colors. He runs around their apartment like a madman. Going from the laundry room to the kitchen and then back to their bedroom with the speed of a man who didn't just have his insides rearranged. His silk top swallows his upper and part of his lower body, but Minho hears him curse to himself about how sticky he is and minutes later, the shower runs and then he emerges from the bathroom with yet another set on. Minho watches him roll his sleeves up before entering the kitchen and running the tap. Clanking of pots and pans as Kibum finds what he needs—he ushers out a "sorry!" at the ruckus and pops up with the pot in hand that he needed.
"Still feeling sundubu-jjigae?" Kibum asks, voice soft but loud enough for Minho to hear across the room.
"Can you come here?" Minho responds and Kibum pokes his head around the corner in concern before approaching the living room.
"You okay?" He scans Minho for any leads, nothing.
Minho gives him a soft smile. "Come..." he motions.
Kibum folds his arms and stands firm, shaking his head. "Absolutely not, Choi Minho. You need to eat. And I cannot go another round after that."
It gives Minho a chuckle. "I just want to talk... for real this time."
Kibum looks back at the kitchen where the pot, filled with water, waits for him on the counter. "I— at least let me go start the stove so the water can boil."
"I won't be long." Minho holds his arms out while motioning hands to himself. The smile on his lips is smug and it makes Kibum fall for him all over again. He falls slowly onto Minho's lap, face interested yet unamused.
"I just wanna say that I love you, Kibum-ah."
Kibum frowns at him, lightly hitting his chest. "I love you too, Minho-yah... you couldn't have said that while I was cooking?"
"I wanna take some time off." Minho blurts.
"What?" Kibum sits upright, stiffening under Minho's fingertips. "Are you serious?"
He is. And not in the way that the doctor recommended forty-eight hours of light duty.
"Minho-yah... are you feeling discouraged after tonight?" Kibum sulks for him. "This is not the end, honey. I promise. Rejection is redirection. How long would time off be?"
"I don't know... maybe a few months? A year?"
"A year?!" Kibum jumps back, sitting fully on the couch now. "Let's think this through, yeah? That is a very long time, Minho. All the greats had to take a nasty hit at least once to make a change, but I don't know about that long, sweetie."
Minho smiles again. It infuriates Kibum. "That's not why." Not the full reason, that is.
Kibum's arms are folded once more. "Then what is it."
"I want to be present. More. I have missed you for so long, but I let my work get in the way of us and it completely clouded me. You have done so much for me, sacrificed so much for me and it took me being rendered unconscious to realize that... I'm embarrassed, honestly. But I want to do something about it and not just apologize. You are the love of my life, Kibum, and I don't want something that could ruin my life get in the way of us. Not anymore."
Kibum stares in discernment. His arms have loosened by a hair, but his guard is obviously still up. "Minho... that long will only result in you playing catch up. I know you want to prioritize us and I want that too, but honey, I do care about what matters to you. And if that is your passion, I don't want you to lose your spark getting caught up on me. I will still have to work, bills still need to be paid. A wedding still needs to be paid for."
Minho nods as he takes it in. "We can be honest, my fights have not covered even half the rent... not even the ones I win. Boxing is my passion, yes, but if I can take off some of your stress then I will. You know my dad wants me to work with him and his team. He will pay me far more for such less work. I can still train with Gyunam, just not as often. I can help more with bills and we can finally start planning the wedding. I know you've wanted to do that for so long, but bills have come first."
"So you won't do anymore fights?" Kibum asks.
"Maybe, here and there, but I don't know. I could very well be concussed and may have to undergo a lot more healing than I thought. I'm okay with that, Kibum-ah. You are my soon-to-be husband and will be the father of my children... if you had to make sacrifices, then so can I." Minho doesn't break eye contact. He pretends not to be swooned by the natural blush that tints Kibum's cheeks. "Let me take care of you, too. Of us..."
Kibum rolls his eyes and turns his body away, Minho has him right where he wants him. "I mean... I trust you, Minho."
Minho beams and he knows Kibum hates it because he can never contain his eagerness. "Really?"
Kibum huffs and drops his arms to his side. "Like you said, you're gonna be the father of my children, I gotta trust you with something."
Minho takes the jab and chuckles. He catches Kibum's dimple on display as he laughs too. His head suddenly feels ten times lighter. The pain is still there, but manageable now, like he was carrying so much stress with him. It makes him wonder if he really did need to get knocked out just to come to his senses. He thanks the guy anyway because he would have never had this conversation had he won his match tonight. And in a way that pains, but humbles him.
"I love you, Kibum-ah... so much... more than anything." Minho says with all of the seriousness he can gather at this late hour of the night.
Kibum looks over at him and smiles. "I love you more, honey." He places a hand on Minho's thigh. It's still sore, but the warmth of Kibum's palm soothes him. "Now, can I get back to cooking? Please?"
Minho pulls Kibum in for a hug, his frame draped over Minho's. He squeezes and Kibum winces in laughter before tickling his sides, making Minho jolt and free him.
He sits up and Minho pulls him back down, lips pouted and eyes glistening. "Let's order takeout for night, yeah? I missed this. Let me hold you..."
Kibum sighs, but nuzzles into his chest. "You said that an hour ago and then fucked me soon after."
"No round two," Minho confirms. "I promise. I just... I need this right now. Your warmth, greasy food, and us laughing at one of your stupid dramas."
"Okay..." Kibum pinches his side, Minho jumps. "They are not stupid."
"You're right, they're not."
"But," Kibum continues. "I could use that too, if I'm being honest. Work has been killing me lately, if I could bore your mind with that as well."
Minho puckers and smacks his lips for Kibum to respond. He does. The kiss is everything it needs to be right now. Sweet and tender. Kibum cups Minho's cheek, Minho runs his fingers through Kibum's hair.
He looks down at Kibum afterward, kissing his forehead. "Anytime, my love."