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Minho sat on his bed, eyes wide open with anguished concern. His hands tugged at his hair, almost painfully, as his heart pounded like a drum in his chest. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as the weight of his thoughts pressed down.
-Am I- he muttered, his voice trembling with fear and uncertainty, -homophobic?-
The best feeling in the world was coming home after a long day and taking off his shoes. Minho always cherished the sweet comfort that followed, a ritual he eagerly anticipated throughout the day. Sure, he was energetic and loved engaging in outdoor activities. Whether hitting the gym, running in the park, or practising any sport that caught his interest, he embraced every chance to push his physical limits.
He also enjoyed his internship at the prestigious architecture studio of his dreams, relishing the promising path of his career. The challenges and creative demands invigorated him, and he felt a deep sense of accomplishment with each project he completed.
But as the sun dipped below the horizon and the day hustle wound down, nothing could beat the comfort of a hot shower and his couch, and he sought any opportunity to hit the gym or practise any sport. But after a long day of work, nothing could beat the comfort of a hot shower and his couch. The moment he stepped into his flat, relief washed over him. He would kick off his shoes, feeling the soft carpet under his tired feet.
The anticipation of his evening simple pleasures kept him going through the worst days.
The hot shower was more than just a cleansing routine; it was a sanctuary for Minho. The steam enveloped his body, melting away the accumulated stress in his muscles and mind. His eyes closed, letting the water cascade over him, each droplet releasing tension.
Finally, wrapped in a fluffy towel, Minho would shuffle to the living room, the thought of sinking into his couch almost too good to bear. The cushions moulded to his form from the countless evenings spent lounging welcomed him like an old friend. He would stretch out, feeling the familiar embrace of the fabric, and let out a deep sigh of contentment.
He ought to thank his flatmate more for picking up the perfect couch!
The weight of the day lifted, replaced by a tranquil satisfaction. He might flip through channels, find a good book, or close his eyes and enjoy the silence, allowing his mind to wander without worries or distractions.
Unless his flatmate would choose that moment to open his mouth and nag for whatever reason, the nightly ritual was his refuge, a small but vital part of his life to balance his otherwise hectic days.
That day, he was ready to enjoy his evening routine as well. He had been looking forward to it all day due to the relentless recent project. However, as soon as he stepped inside his flat, his routine was disturbed and brutally interrupted.
Somebody was on the couch already. Not one person, but two entwined in an intimate embrace. One of them sprawled on the other lap, his familiar clothed butt in full view and not-so-gently groped by unknown hands. The two men were kissing. No, they were making out heatedly.
Minho stood frozen in the doorway, his mind trying to process the unexpected scene before his eyes.
It did not require any time to recognise his flatmate Kibum as the man showing him his back, who seemed engrossed in the kiss. The other man was a stranger, his hands roaming freely over Kibum's body, pulling closer as their lips locked again and eager to rip off his clothes.
Not only did he feel like an intruder in his own home, but at the same time, his beloved sanctuary felt tainted and disrespected.
He contemplated whether to retreat and give them privacy or confront the situation head-on. But before he could even make a choice, a moan escaped from Kibum's lips, making him retreat against the shoe cabinet.
His eyes flicked open at the sudden noise and turned towards the entrance, meeting Minho's gaze.
For a brief moment, Minho could see pure panic spreading in them.
The room grew silent.
The expression of the guilty flatmate shifted to embarrassment, his cheeks flushing as he quickly disentangled himself from the embrace. -Minho,- Kibum stammered, attempting to regain his composure, -I did not expect you back so early-.
Minho swallowed hard, his mouth dry. It was not early at all. It was his usual time, and all he wanted was to rest on his damn couch. And his expression confirmed it all.
What annoyed him even more was that Kibum was not even apologising. They had specific rules about their intimacy: no intercourse was allowed in the shared area of the house.
-I—um, I did not mean to interrupt,- he managed to say, his voice strained. -I will leave you two alone- he added awkwardly.
-A-actually, he was leaving- Kibum rushed to respond. The stranger looked at him, quite confused, until the other gave him a stern, knowing look.
-Yeah, I have to be home for dinner- the stranger said with a shy, polite smile.
-Do not worry, I was going to take a shower. Sorry for the interruption- Minho nodded before bolting towards his room and bathroom.
In the shower, Minho expressed frustration, hoping the warm water stream could wash away his annoyance. His couch, his beloved chouch, had been claimed by someone else.
He took his sweet time before heading to the kitchen. He was in a bad mood and hungry.
When Minho finally emerged, the smell of something delicious greeted him. The kitchen was a flurry of activity. Kibum was at the stove, stirring a pot of what looked like jjigae. Various side dishes were waiting for him on the table: kimchi, pickled radishes, and sautéed vegetables.
Kibum did not glance up as Minho entered the kitchen, but he acknowledged his presence. -I figured you might be hungry, honey-.
His stomach growled in response, betraying his irritation. He nodded, trying to maintain a neutral expression. -Thanks- he muttered, taking a seat at the table.
As Kibum served the stew, the silence between them was thick with unspoken words. Minho watched him move around the kitchen. It was Kibum's way of apologising, of mending the rift without directly addressing it. Of course, he had always hated to admit to being wrong.
They ate in silence at first. The only sounds were the clicking of chopsticks and the bubbling stew.
Minho sighed. -It is good. The jjigae is good. Thanks-. What was refraining Kibum from apologising? Ah, quite annoying.
Kibum looked up from his plate, his hesitant gaze lit up with relief. -Of course, honey. It is good because I made it- he smirked nonchalantly.
For a moment, Minho studied his delicate, foxy features, searching for something that might give away his thoughts. His sharp eyes were incredibly expressive and charismatic, capable of an intensity that could catch anyone off guard. High cheekbones gave his face a sculpted and elegant look, while his full lips had an endearing natural, almost childlike. Oh, and his flawlessly smooth skin! Many people would envy and perhaps even commit unspeakable acts to achieve it.
And then there was that detail he liked: the scar on Kibum's right eyebrow. The tiny imperfection enhanced his overall appeal, making his appearance more distinctive and memorable. The scar added a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise refined look. Even perfection had its unique marks. Kibum looked like a fox, indeed, both in his sharp, captivating appearance and sly, playful, and mischievous personality.
Kibum was very pretty; he was not surprised he had someone at home, though usually, Minho never met random partners unless it was a serious relationship.
-Whatever- he replied dryly. Minho was set on receiving his deserved apologise.
Kibum's smirk faded slightly, replaced by a more concerned expression. -Minho, I know I messed up. I should have been more considerate.-.
Minhoo raised an eyebrow, surprised by the spontaneous admission. -Yeah, you should have. It is a weekday. I need my space when I come back home. We have rules. At least do not do it in the living room-.
Kibum nodded. -I will be more careful. It was not on purpose-.
-Yeah, if it were, I would not have dinner with you- he scoffed. -But thanks for the food, it was good!-.
After they finished eating, Kibum began clearing the table. Minho watched him for a moment before getting up to help.
-What are you doing? The glasses are not supposed to go in there; that is the cupboard for the cups- Kibum suddenly urged, his tone firm.
-Since when?- Minho replied, surprised. -I always put the glasses in here; it is more convenient-.
-Since I decided so- Kibum replied, crossing his arms. -Convenient? It is a mess in there every time, thanks to you. Plus, we can keep the coffee capsule in there too-.
-Okay, but where are my decaf ones?- Minho countered.
-Honey, why do you drink coffee if you want it decaf? What the heck?- Kibum shot back.
Minho crossed his arms as well. -Because I want to!-.
Soon, they were bickering as usual over the most trivial stuff. It was a harmonious, daily occurrence in their flat.
Once the kitchen was clear and they grew tired of the bickering, Minho found himself brushing his teeth while staring at his reflection. His mind wandered back to the couch and the intense make-out session with his flatmate. The memory of the encounter gnawed at his thoughts, refusing to be ignored. Something about it unsettled him profoundly.
While staring at his reflection, a wave of unease washed over him. The more he dwelled on it, the more his discomfort grew. Maybe it was because he was exhausted and wanted to rest. Or perhaps the visceral nature of their intimacy struck a nerve. The sounds the pair made were primal, almost feral, and the stranger felt gross while groping Kibum, his touch too invasive.
He kept thinking about it until he had a sudden epiphany.
What he felt thinking about the two men kissing was utter disgust.
Pure, old-fashioned repugnance.
The realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.
He rinsed his mouth hastily, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the faucet. Finishing his nightly routine in a blur, he practically sprinted back to his room, feeling the need to escape the suffocating weight of his thoughts.
Minho sat on his bed, eyes wide open with anguished concern. His hands tugged at his hair, almost painfully, as his heart pounded like a drum in his chest. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on him as the weight of his thoughts pressed down.
-Am I- he muttered, his voice trembling with fear and uncertainty, -homophobic?-
The question echoed in the silence in his room louder than it was, reverberating off the walls and bouncing back to him with no clear answer.
Minho dealt with the unpleasant thoughts as best he could: hitting the gym more and focusing intensely on his job. The sudden revelation had brought so much shame upon him that he did not dare to face Kibum. He threw himself into his workouts with a newfound intensity, each session a desperate attempt to sweat out the confusion and frustration. At work, he buried himself in projects, staying late and taking on extra tasks to keep his mind occupied.
The notion that he might be homophobically gnawed at him relentlessly. How could he have such repulsive feelings towards his best friend and flatmate? He could not understand it, and the more he thought about it, the more ashamed he felt. The fear of confronting Kibum, of potentially hurting him with his perceived prejudice, weighed heavily on his mind.
When they first met, they did not like each other. Something about each other rubbed them wrong. Two strong personalities who butted against each other way too often, different upbringings and interests and cultural differences were all prompter for iconic banter. Kibum, with his sharp wit and unapologetic demeanour, clashed with Minho, who had a more disciplined and structured approach to life and his competitiveness. Their arguments were legendary among their friends, each a battle of wills that neither was willing to lose.
Still, as time passed by, their relationship shited towards a benevolent one. A friendship founded on mutual respect, shared experiences, and newfound harmony. They had learned to appreciate each other strengths and quirks, finding a balance that allowed them to coexist peacefully. Their contrasting personalities balanced each other out. Their daily dose of harmless bickering became a familiar and comforting routine, a sign of the bond they had forged.
Minho respected Kibum for many reasons. One was how unapologetic he was in being himself. Kibum lived his sexuality with pride and did not let anyone define him because of it. He moved through life with a confidence that was both inspiring and intimidating, never hesitating to speak his mind or stand up for what he believed in.
Kibum was also passionate about what he loved the most, like fashion. He worked hard towards his dream of becoming a fashion designer, picking up projects whenever possible and studying diligently for his master's degree. Minho often found himself marvelling at the dedication and creativity Kibum had, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his designs or showed off a new piece he was working on.
Despite their initial clashes, Minho had come to appreciate his presence. Kibum had ways of pushing him out of his comfort zone, challenging him to see the world from different perspectives. Their late-night conversations, often sparked by some trivial disagreement, had a way of delving into deeper topics, revealing layers of understanding and empathy that Minho had not expected. And sometimes, the best part of his days was sharing the damn couch with him.
He missed that.
Minho missed Kibum.
As Minho navigated his days, the weight of his unspoken fear pressed heavily on him. His exchanges with Kibum had dropped significantly, but he wondered if his flatmate could still have any inkling of his internal struggles if he could see the turmoil hidden behind Minho's forced smile and casual banter. Every interaction became a tightrope walk; he had imagined the devastating impact of Kibum finding out about his perceived homophobia, the hurt and betrayal in his friend's eyes. The fear of losing what they had built kept Minho silent. He could not help but steal glances at Kibum when he thought no one was looking, his heart aching with guilt.
He risked losing him.
His Kibum.
His annoying, arsehole Kibum.
Minho was tired, completely exhausted. The new rhythm he had imposed on himself was taking its toll. Long hours at the gym, late nights at work, and a relentless focus on anything that could distract him from his thoughts were all becoming too much. But if it could prevent his nightmare from becoming true, he was willing to accept the burden that came with it.
Kim Kibum was worth it.
All he needed was to find a decent solution to his problem. Yeah, but how could he resolve homophobia? Unfortunately, it was not a medical disease, and a couple of tablets could not heal it.
His digits pressed the code, opening his door, as muscle memory kicked in at the right moment.
He was too tired to use logic to assemble the numeric sequence quickly.
He was starving, and his stomach confirmed it by grumbling loudly. Maybe he could swap the shower and the dinner that evening. In the fridge, there was some kimchi his mother had made the last time he visited. What else could he cook? Did they have some ramen? Or maybe Kibum had placed some leftovers in the fridge? He just wanted to grab some food and eat.
Gosh, he should have had dinner near his workplace.
As he stepped inside the flat, the comforting scent of home wrapped around him, momentarily easing the tension he had built up over the day. He slipped off his shoes mindlessly, the smooth parquet under his feet a welcoming relief.
-No, wait! Not here- a faint voice echoed from the kitchen. -Please, I promised-.
Minho stopped in front of the door, anger building inside him. No, it could not be. His heart pounded in his chest as he opened the door with force. In front of his eyes appeared Kibum, who was pressed against the wall by another guy whose hand had its way inside the trousers of his flatmate.
-We should take this to my room, please, my flatmate will be back soon! Ah!-. A soft moan escaped from his lips, morphing his flushed face into a raw expression of pleasure.
Minho stood frozen, lost in the thunderstorm of anger, confusion and something darker that was hard to acknowledge. So, was it one of the many faces Kibum showed to his partners only? Did he always look so defenceless in bed? Did he lure all those men with this fake innocence? Did he let anyone touch him like that? Was it so easy to draw all types of reactions from him?
Disgusting.
Minho's stomach churned with repulsion and an unnamed, visceral something else.
-What the hell is going on here?- he said, his voice trembling with barely suppressed rage.
The other guy, startled, quickly withdrew his hand and stepped back, eyes wide with fear and confusion. Kibum, still catching his breath, looked over at Minho with embarrassment and defiance. His cheeks were still flushed, and his eyes shone with a wild, untamed light.
The guy excused himself quickly. -I-I will wait for you in my car. Take all the time you need-. And in the blink of an eye, he disappeared from the flat.
-Minho, honey, I can explain,- Kibum started, his voice shaky yet attempting to regain some control.
Minho could not bear to look at Kibum. -Explain? It is our home, Kibum. Have some respect- he snapped, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.
Kibum hardened his expression as his defensiveness kicked in. -I am sorry! It was not supposed to happen here-.
-I fucking know it! It is the second time it has happened! Get a hold of yourself!- Minho blurted out, his voice laced with frustration and desperation. -I cannot keep coming home to you being a horny dog all over the place!-.
-Pardon?-. Kibum looked deeply hurt by those rough words, his voice dripping with pain and disbelief. -I get it! I did wrong, but this does not allow you to be so fucking rude!-.
-You have never even apologised!- Minho shouted back. He was cracking under the weight of his pent-up emotions. -It feels like you are doing it on purpose to irritate me! When I come home from work, I do not wish to see you tangled everywhere with your hook-ups! Just go with that guy at his place, for fuck's sake!-.
Kibum bit his lip, his eyes welling up with tears. -So you are okay with me going with him?- he whispered. -Is this what bothers you?-.
-Yes. I find it disgusting- Minho spat out, his words sharp and cutting, not realising the gravity of what he was saying.
-D-disgusting?- The foxy eyes widened, his face contorted in shock. -You bring girls here; how is it different? I even heard you a few times, but I never held it against you.-
-It is different- Minho scoffed, turning away, unable to face the raw hurt in the eyes of the aspiring fashion designer. The truth was clawing out from his lips, threatening to expose everything he had tried to bury.
-How! Minho, tell me how!- Kibum shouted in anguish.
-Everything is different! Now go!- Minho demanded, trembling with unspoken fear and emotions. He needed to flee the scene before it was too late, so he tried to reach for the door.
Kibum grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. -How!- he commanded with gritted teeth. -Tell me how Minho!-
-You make those sounds!- Minho vented, finally giving up -And the way they touch you. It is gross! The thought of you doing those things with men grosses me out!-.
Kibum loosened his grip and let go of Minho as if he had burned his hands. He was speechless. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, tracing a sorrowful path on his porcelain skin. Minho knew he fucked up.
-Ki, no, wait! I did not mean to—- Minho started, his voice desperate and pleading, but it was too late for damage control.
-Now I know why you were avoiding me-. Kibum whispered. A broken, tiny whisper. His sorrowful eyes, filled with unbearable pain, cut through Minho's heart. Kibum turned and fled, leaving him alone in their shared flat.
The taller stood there, the echo of the slammed door reverberating through the silent flat. His heart pounded painfully in his chest, regret and confusion weighing down on him. His feet dragged him to the couch. His body sank onto it, onto the place where everything had started, the epicentre of his turmoil. And for the first time, he found the couch rough and uncomfortable.
A hopeless and desolated Minho buried his face in his hands. His thoughts were a chaotic mess. The look on Kibum's face, the tears in his eyes, and the pain in his voice haunted him. How had he let it come to this? How had he let his unresolved feelings and doubts twist into something so hurtful?
-How have you been, hyung?-.
Taemin looked at him with evident concern. The younger, usually a bundle of energy and curiosity, had noticed something was off with Minho. When the latter asked him to meet up, Taemin did not hesitate to invite him over. He took the liberty to invite Jinki over, knowing the oldest could help discern any burden afflicting Minho.
They were in the youngest living room. Minho thought that couch felt more familiar and welcoming than his. They sat there in warm silence, without comments on his dark circle and messy hair.
Jinki had brewed a perfect cup of Lemon Bald Tea for their distressed friend, hoping its soothing properties would improve his mood. He had a way of making anyone feel at ease; his wisdom often guided others through their hardship. Tonight, his role was more crucial than ever.
-Take your time. We can wait- Jinki said softly, patting his head fondly.
Minho nodded tearfully, grateful to have such amazing friends caring about him. He sipped his cup slowly, enjoying the gentle citrus aroma while the subtle hint of mint pleasantly surprised him.
-Kibum... He is not talking to me anymore. I-I messed up pretty badly- he sobbed after a while, sinking his shoulders in regret.
Jinki never parted his hand from that soft, curly brown hair, gently indulging him to say anything he felt up to. -Can you tell us what happened?-. As usual, the oldest was gentle and understanding by any means.
Minho took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. -I said some awful things to him. I was angry and frustrated, and I took it on Kibum. I told him he-he d-disgusted me- he choked out, tears streaming down his face. -Because I told him that seeing him with his partners grosses me out. I tried so hard to hide my homophobia, but I failed-
-Wait, what?- Taemin asked, visibly confused. -Your what?-.
-And Kibum has all the right to hate and avoid me! What gay man would be happy to have a homophobic friend?- Minho exclaimed, his frustration bubbling over.
-You? Homophobic?- Taemin replied, bewildered.
-So you two had a nasty fall-out because you saw him with someone?- Jinki tried to resonate with his friends, slowly processing all the information to avoid pressure on Minho.
-Yeah, twice!- Minho snarled after sipping his tea. -The first time on my couch! The second time, they were in the kitchen! He knows we chose not to do stuff in the shared areas! I wanted to have dinner, but I had to witness this random stranger putting his hands in his pants! I just wanted to eat my kimchi in peace!- he let out, irritated. -And he left Kibum there alone like a coward! Of course, I was angry!-.
Taemin and Jinki exchanged a glance, understanding dawning on their faces.
-Were you disgusted by the guy or Kibum?- Jinki asked carefully. -Because I think you are losing the main focus here-.
Now, Minho was the confused one. -Hyung, I told you. He even moaned, and it irked me completely. Why would it irritate me that much? I must be homophobic for sure-. He shook his head, disappointed in himself.
-Hyung, how dumb can you be?- Taemin chimed in, unable to hold back. His bluntness was in stark contrast to the delicate approach of the oldest.
-Taemin, we cannot rush him on this- Jinki cut him off gently. -Minho, I think you are missing the point.-.
Minho looked between his friends; bewilderment and frustration bloomed over his face. -I felt sick seeing him with another guy. That homophobia is, isn't it?-.
-Sweet Lord, give me the strength- he heard Taaming mumble to himself.
Jinki shook his head slowly. -No, Minho, homophobia is a deep-seated fear or hatred of people based on their sexuality. The thing you are describing sounds more like something else. Think about it: were you disgusted by Kibum being with a guy, or were you upset because someone else touched him?-.
-I was upset because they were on my couch- Minho pointed out. -And Kibum is objectively prettier than them. I thought he had a better taste-.
Jinki sighed loudly, massaging his temples, his patient wearing thin. -Please, Minho, could you please stop mentioning couches for today? I have a limit.-
Taemin stifled a laugh, finding the absurd situation too amusing to resist. -Come on, hyung, give the couch a break- he teased, trying to lighten the mood.
Minho rolled his eyes, realising the unintentional pun he had made. -Alright, fine- he conceded, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. -No more couch talk-.
Jinki chuckled, relieved to see the spirits of his beloved friend lifting even slightly. -Thank you. Now, think about how to make things right with Kibum-.
Suddenly, a door swung open.
A tall, handsome guy with golden skin and messy hair appeared, his golden skin glowing in the soft light. His dishevelled, ashy blond mullet framed his sharp features and almond eyes, giving him an effortless, attractive aurea. Even in his sleepy state, he exuded a magnetic charm that was hard to ignore.
Dressed in simple grey joggers and a white t-shirt that hugged his toned physique, he scratched his abs lazily, his movements fluid and relaxed.
His plump lips curved into a smile as his sight landed on Taemin; the sight instantly transformed his expression.
His eyes, previously half-lidded with drowsiness, lit up with joy as he approached Taeming, turning into two shining crescent moons. The smile that graced his lips now was genuine and radiant, his cheeks fuller and adorned with cute dimples. His demeanour shifted and morphed into one of warmth and adoration.
Without hesitation, the man wrapped his arms around Taemin, pulling him into a tender embrace. His gaze never wavered away, filled with love and devotion. -Hi, babe- he spoke softly before pressing a soft peck on those full lips he adored.
-Nini!- Taemin replied with equal sweetness, his cheeks tinted pink at the affectionate gesture. -Did you sleep well?-.
The taller nodded as he brushed the point of his nose against Taemin's neck. -Yeah, I needed this nap-.
Nini, whose real name was Jongin, politely bowed to the other two and sat on the couch with them, pulling Taemin between his legs. -I hope I am not interrupting anything- he smiled sheepishly.
-Oh, no, worry not- Jinki replied reassuringly, -we are just trying to help a friend out.-
-Hi, I am the friend- Minho sighed, raising his hand. -We were talking about Kibum and trying to resolve the mess I made-.
-He believes he is homophobic- Taemin explained, rolling his eyes in disbelief.
-W-what? Hyung, it does not make any sense!- Jongin exclaimed, his confusion evident.
-Those two were so gross while kissing!- Minho's voice was exasperated, his hand pulling his hair desperately.
-Hyung,-, Taemin was having none of it. He leaned back against Jogin's chest for support. -Look. I am sitting on my boyfriend's lap, and you do not seem too bothered by it. Neither when we kissed earlier in front of you. If you were homophobic, you would not be able to sit here with us, let alone be friends with Kibum-.
Minho looked at him, confusion still etched on his face. -He is your boyfriend. It is suited for couples- he responded.
Taemin was on the verge of hitting him. -Hyung, I am gay!- he said, raising his exasperated voice.
-So?-. Minho's bushy eyebrows knitted together. He could not pin down the point Taemin was trying to make.
That was his last straw. He stood up abruptly, his face flushed with frustration. -YOU ARE NOT HOMOPHOBIC- he yelled, his voice echoing in the room.
Minho recoiled slightly, taken aback by the sudden outburst. -Then what am I? What is going on with me?- the older spat back, his hands clenched in fits. -Why am I losing Kibum, then?-.
-YOU ARE NOT HOMOPHOBIC! YOU ARE HOMOSEXUAL!- Taemin shouted, the words hanging in the air like a revelation. His tone was both forceful and desperate, hoping Minho would finally understand.
-Babe- Jongin guided his boyfriend back on his lap -Breathe in and breathe out. You are not going to help him like this-.
The room fell silent, the weight of the declaration sinking in.
Minho sat in silence, staring with wide eyes at his friends. He was at a complete loss for words, feeling like something heavy had hit him.
Jinki's hand moved onto the shoulder of the young architect, providing a steadying presence. -Minho, think about it. Your reactions were anything but homophobia. Perhaps you were jealous- he said gently, his tone calm but firm. -Perhaps you disliked seeing Kibum with somebody else.-
Taemin, back to his sweet self, added softly. -Think about whenever you did something special for him. For example, when you massaged his feet when he was tired-.
Minho's mind drifted to that evening. -Kibum is a fashion major. He stands on his feet a lot. That day, he was working on a big project and was exhausted. We were watching a movie, and he complained about his feet aching. I told him he could lie his feet on my lap, and I massaged them carefully. I thought that is what friends do- he clarified weakly.
Jogin snorted, shaking his head. -Absolutely no-. He had to admit his hyung was cute while oblivious to his feelings. -Hyung, you are very gentle and always go the extra mile for the people dear to you, but admit you put in some extra effort for Kibum. You always buy him whatever he says he likes or wants, no matter how absurd-.
Minho blinked, processing the words Jogin shared. -I want him to be happy,- he murmured, his voice barely audible.
-And that is not all,- Taemin continued smiling, -Rember that time Kibum hyung was sick? You stayed up all night taking care of him. If I am not mistaken, you took a day off work to look after him-.
How could he forget? Kibum had the nasty flu, and Minho had stayed by his side, nursing him back to health, and held his hand when the fever spiked. -I did not want him to suffer alone, even if he complained a lot about the soup I made-, Minho whispered.
Jongin smiled gently. -Exactly. You care about him deeply. Not as just a friend. It is okay to admit it, hyung-.
-And let me point out that your entire problem with your supposed homophobia was that you were afraid of hurting or losing Kibum- Jinki concluded. He sounded like a parent guiding a child through a difficult lesson.
Minho's eyes welled as he looked down. The weight of those wise words settled heavily in his chest. -But I have never felt attracted to a man before- his voice cracked with vulnerability. -And I never felt out of place dating women-.
Jinki slid his hand from his shoulder to gently clasp his arm, and his touch seemed a grounding force. -Minho, you could be bisexual. Bisexuality is a valid sexual orientation. Do not censor any part of yourself,- Jinki reassured him. The older voice dripped with soothing empathy and understanding that Minho unknowingly had longed for until then. -We will help you to navigate through all of this and help you to find out who you are. Do not worry, Minho, we got you. You are not alone in this-.
The latter's breath hitched, and suddenly, the dam broke. Overwhelmed by everything, Minho burst into tears, his sobs loud and wrenching. He thought about everything that had happened, every touch, every smile, every moment of banter with Kibum. His mind raced through their shared history, piecing together moments that now made perfect sense in the light of this newfound clarity.
-I like him- he sobbed loudly, his words tumbled out in a rush of raw, unfiltered emotion. -I like Kibum a lot-.
Jinki never let go of his harm, offering a steady anchor in the storm of emotions. Taemin and Jongin watched with sympathetic eyes, understanding the magnitude of what Minho was going through.
After a while, when Minho finally calmed down, a pleasant silence lingered in the room. In his newfound clarity, Minho understood how lucky he was to have his friends next to accept him for who he was and willing to help him to navigate his self-discovery. He could sense the tenacious support from his friends.
-Guys,- Minho began hesitantly, breaking the silence, -do you think I should tell him? I know Kibum deserves apologies and explanations, but I am a bit scared of confronting him, to be honest. What if I ruin everything for good?-.
Taemin shifted closer. -Hyung, it is natural to be scared. But Kibum hyung deserves to know the truth, and you deserve to be honest with yourself and him.-
Jongin nodded. -Kibum hyung is your friend too, hyung. He might be hurt, but he cares about you. He will understand if you speak from your heart-. Jongin was the youngest among them; his eyes always shined sincerity when they were together.
Minho swallowed hard; he still had to address his biggest fear. -What if he does not feel the same way?-.
-Even if your feelings for him are unrequited, Kibum will respect your honesty. And you will be free from the burden of hiding your real emotions. The biggest thing you earned in this story is your identity, a treasure you must cherish deeply for the rest of your life-. Jinki always had the best choice of words, no matter what.
Minho took a deep breath. They were right. He owed it to Kibum because he did not want his friend to be associated with the word disgust anymore. And he owed it to himself, no matter how terrifying it seemed.
Whatever the outcome, he would always have his friends by his side.
Minho paced around his flat for the hundredth time.
He had been waiting for Kibum like a faithful dog waiting for his owner to come home. His restless feet dragged him across the room, back and forth, as he anxiously anticipated the sound of the door locks clicking open. He had even left work early to not miss Kibum's arrival. His mind raced with rehearsed lines as if preparing for some high-stakes conversation.
Finally, the mechanic beep of his door drew his attention, and he turned eagerly toward the entrance.
Kibum was home.
He stood at the main entrance, taking off his shoes with practised ease.
They had not seen each other in the last few days, and now Kibum was sporting gorgeous blond hair that made him look more sophisticated and ethereal. The new colour only added to his allure and complimented his features. Minho found himself momentarily breathless.
-W-welcome back!-. The architect blurted out, trying to sound cheerful, but his voice betrayed his nerves.
Kibum looked startled, his gaze meeting Minho's with an unreadable expression. They stood there in silence, the tension palpable in the air. Then, Minho rushed forward to help Kibum out of his coat, the action more instinctual than deliberate. -Let me hang it for you- he offered, his voice softer now, almost pleading.
As those golden digits brushed against his neck, Kibum flinched at the unexpected touch, a subtle shiver coursing through his body. His eyes darted away, trying to suppress a flicker of discomfort. He tried his best to walk away, but Minho followed closely behind. Their footsteps echoed in the room since none dared to utter a single word.
-W-what do you want?- Kibum posed the question defeated by his persistence.
Minho met his gaze. His big brown eyes expressed his vulnerability yet a hint of determination. -Talk- Minho replied carefully. His tone seemed softer than the last time they spoke, even more respectful. -If you are willing to listen-.
Kibum hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. Then, with a resigned nod, he licked his lips and relented. -Fine, we can talk.- he said, avoiding the taller. -But I would like to go first-.
Minho did not expect Kibum to have something to say, but the fact that he intended to start a conversation with him gave Minho a tiny glimpse of courage. He nervously clinched his fits. -Of course,- he replied, willing to cooperate, -Please, go ahead.-
-I want to move out.- Kibum stated abruptly, his words cutting through the air like a deadly knife.
Minho's heart plummeted at the declaration, and anguish spread like wild vines in his chest. -W-What?- he stammered. He did not care how broken and hurt he sounded. He was facing the excruciating, painful idea of losing Kibum.
The expression of Kibum remained impassive, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond Minho, beyond his shoulder. -I cannot stay here- he continued. How could he speak devoid of emotions? How could he act so distant and detached from him? -I have no intention to be stuck with someone who finds me disgusting because I like men.-
The ground beneath Minho had been yanked all at once, leaving him teetering on the precipice of despair. -Wait!- Minho exclaimed. Something was off: Kibum was looking anywhere but him. Minho desperately grabbed Kibum's hand and held it close to his chest.
-Let me go!- the other tried to pull away angrily.
-Bummie, please, hear me out first.- His words hung in the air, a fragile plea for one last chance to make things right. -Please, show me your face. Do not hide from me.-.
Kibum froze on the spot. His breath hitched, and for a moment, Minho swore he seemed on the verge of breaking as he had forced a strict composure on himself for the entire time they spoke. His resolve weaved, and Kibum slowly turned his gaze toward Minho. The pain and confusion in those foxy eyes mirrored the turmoil churning inside the young architect.
-Please, Kibum, just once.- Despite the panic, MinHo spoke softly with the utmost care because Jinki, Jongkin and Taemin were right. When it came to Kibum, he would gladly run the extra mile—for his Kibum only. Now Kibum was hurt, and MinHo could absolutely ignore it, even if Kibum had stabbed him in the heart with his announcement and left him there to bleed. -Bummie-. His free hand travelled across the marvellous golden locks, caressing them with care as they were precious reliquaries of a heavenly being mistakenly sent to live among the mortals. -You look so beautiful blond-.
Kibum flinched again at the touch, caught off guard by the tenderness and sincerity. The ice walls he carefully crafted to face Minho quivered. -Are you here to make any point? Because I would rather avoid wasting my time with you.-
-You are right, sorry- Minho lowered his head, looking like an overgrown puppy with his tail between his legs. -Do you want to sit? A glass of water?-.
-Do not do this to me- Kibum wailed. His shoulders slumped, and his usually poised posture was replaced with a weary sag. -Stop beating around the bush. I cannot do this anymore, okay? I cannot keep up with your shenanigans anymore! I cannot! I am tired! Work has been hell recently! Yes, hell! And there you are, messing even more with me!-. Minho opened his mouth to reply, but Kibum still had to finish. -It is all your fault!- Kibum clenched his fists at his sides, trembling with barely contained anger. -Since you called me disgusting, I have not been able to focus! Everything went downhill!- His breath came in sharp, ragged gasps. -I will not give you the power to ruin my career! I fucking hate you!- he shouted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. -So enlighten me! What could mend this shit?!-. He looked away, wiping his eyes furiously. Minho had never seen Kibum so shattered, all his raw vulnerability so loudly exposed. His jaw was set, his full lips quivering as he tried to hold back the torrent of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Kibum seemed on the brink of collapsing any time soon.
Minho took a deep breath. He was fighting the urge to hug the blond fashion designer, worried he could only worsen the situation. -Kibum,- he started in his low, trembling voice, -I am so sorry for what I said. You are further from disgusting! I lashed out because I was tired and confused. But that is no excuse. I apologise-.
Kibum's eyes flashed with anger. -Confused about what, Choi? Confused about how to be a decent human being?-
Minho bit his lips, his mind swirling with the difficulty of what he had to say. In theory, the entire dialogue seemed daunting to enact, but in practice, it was unconquerable. -You see, one spends all their life thinking they know who they are.- he began, -Certain questions never popped up before, and one could believe to be sure about themselves. But then... something happens, and the secure castle turns out to be made of cards and crashes badly to the ground. The foundations were not deep enough and did not support the entity of the entire structure-.
-Minho, honey, how many times did I tell you I get lost when you use architectonic metaphors?- Kibum sighed, massaging his temples.
Minho swallowed hard. It was his turn to get teary. -I thought- he struggled to find the right words -I thought I was sure of who and what I liked. Of who I was. So, the moment everything changed, I had no clue how to figure out what was wrong with me. I am still scared because everything is new to me, and I do not know how to proceed, but... Kibum, I might be bisexual-.
Kibum stared at him, pure shock written across his face. -W-what?-
-And the truth is that I mistook something else for disgust-. Minho had chosen to wear his heart upon his sleeves -I was jealous. I am so sorry for hurting you because I did not know what was happening.- The truth laid bare once and for all. -I like you. For so many reasons that I cannot comprehend. I really like you, Kibum-.
-Oh my God, Minho-. Until Kibum reached for his arm and dragged him to the couch, Minho did not realise how much he was trembling. The pair sat there in silence, giving themselves time to process everything. Tears ran dry, and breaths returned to a regular pattern.
-First of all, you are brave for coming out,- Kibum interrupted the silence. -I found out I was gay during my adolescence. It is scary figuring out something is different about you, but I cannot imagine how it must be at our age to witness all your certainties crumble into dust. However, there is nothing wrong with being bisexual. You will be happy, I promise you. And whoever treats your bisexuality with disdain is just a worthless piece of shit. Before we discuss anything else, I need you to understand this. You are not alone, Minho-. Kibum grabbed his hand gently. -And to be fair, it is flattering being your bisexual awakening- he smirked proudly.
Minho rolled his eyes. -I already regret it-.
-No, you do not. Let me finish, please- Kibum interjected, his voice a mix of amusement and sincerity. -Minho, you have been sending mixed signals lately. I started questioning if something was going on between us, but you were straight as an arrow, so I did not know what to make of it. I was convinced I was imagining things. But then, after you saw me kissing that guy on the couch- he paused, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks -your reaction gave me this tiny glimmer of hope. So, I confess, the kitchen incident? Totally planned. And, well, it backfired horribly- he chuckled nervously. -I wanted to clear things up with you, but you disappeared for days.-.
Minho's cheek flushed with embarrassment as he scratched his head in shame. -That is because, well, at first, I thought I despised what I saw because I was homophobic-.
Kibum's eyes widened in disbelief. -You what?-.
Minho nodded, his expression sheepish. -Yeah, I was ashamed of my supposed homophobia, so I hid from you, too afraid of hurting you-.
Kibum tried his best to suppress it, but in the end, he burst into laughter, echoing through the room. It took him a while to regain his composure.
-You make me wish I was homophobic,- Minho mumbled with a pout.
Kibum struggled to suppress his laughter, his voice still soaked in amusement. -It is so absurd it is almost cute. Honestly, Minho, I wanted to move out because I thought you were too disgusted by me to come home. It hurt, you know?-.
Minho's heart sank at the admission, guilt gnawing at him. -I am sorry-.
Kibum's eyes softened at the apology. Minho had struggled the entire time, probably feeling lost and alone. -I dyed my hair blond for a new beginning- he revealed. -What a drama queen move-.
-You can still have it-. Minho felt a surge of newfound courage coursing through his veins. He leaned closer to Kibum, his big, rounded eyes filled with tenacious adoration for the beautiful man. -Do you want it? A fresh new start? Kibum, would you like a fresh new start with me? Bummie, I am serious. I like you. And I know we have had it rough, and everything is new to me, but I can make you happy if you let me-.
Dark roses bloomed on the beautiful face, their hue tinted Kibum's skin with elegance. Kibum appeared more delicate than ever. Such divine sight made Minho's heart race and intensified his longing. -I am holding back, Bummie, trying to be patient,- Minho confessed softly, -but I need to know... Can we start anew? Can we be together? I am struggling to resist the urge to kiss you right now, so please, give me an answer before I lose control-.
Kibum's blush deepened, the colour spreading across his body like wildfire. He took a moment to gather his thoughts and weigh his emotions but found himself drowning in the most beautiful, annoying, deep brown, rounded eyes ever.
With a shy smile playing at the corners of his lips, Kibum gently took those strong hands in his. -Honey,- he whispered, his voice barely above a breath -I have been waiting for you to ask that-.
-Can I kiss you?- Minho asked in return.
Kibum's playful smirk danced across his lips. -Here? On the couch!- he teased -Sorry, we cannot have intimacy in the common areas-.
Determined, Minho grabbed him for his waist, manhandling him onto his lap. -Fuck those rules,- he declared with tangible desire in his voice,-I will kiss you wherever I want. And I will be so much better than all those fools- he growled proudly, his eyes smouldering with passion.
-Prove it- Kibum challenged, teasing his competitive nature.
-Gladly-.
As their lips met in a tender, longing kiss, the world around them faded away. It was a kiss filled with all their suppressed emotions, a culmination of all the unspoken words and hidden desires. Their hearts beat as one, their souls intertwining in a moment of pure connection.
-Honey- Kibum panted against Minho's lips, and a giddy laugh escaped him like a teenager in love. -You were so right-.
-I am talented, I know- Minho smirked proudly, his chest swelling.
-We will see.- Kibum retorted, a mischievous glint in his eye. -I still have to teach you how to pleasure me- he added, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. -Then, I will rank your abilities. If the neighbours complain about the noise, it will be a plus-.
-Oh, trust me, I can make that happen.- Minho growled, his hand sliding down to caress Kibum’s butt with a possessive touch.
-Bold words for someone who drinks decaf- Kibum teased, his fingers tracing patterns on the taller’s chest.
-How is that even related?- Minho laughed, pulling the fashion designer closer until their bodies pressed together.
-You are being too smug. I needed an insult.- Kibum said, his tone light but his eyes serious, reflecting the depth of his feelings.
-Well, I am disappointed. You can come up with better stuff.- Minho challenged, his fingers threading through Kibum’s golden hair.
-I could complain about you for ages!- the shorter shot back, the tension between them easing into their signature, playful banter.
-Is it a challenge?- Minho’s eyes sparkled with amusement, and his lips curled into a grin.
-Oh my god, is it too late to change my mind?- Kibum groaned with mock exasperation, though his eyes softened, betraying the affection he harboured in his heart.
Minho leaned in. -You are so beautiful- he murmured softly, as he was praying to a divine being and worshipping those foxy features with his eyes -You are so beautiful, Bummie-. He placed a tender kiss on the scar he adored.
-S-Stop being so cheesy!- the latter tried to shy away. -Y-you too… You are very handsome- Kibum murmured, turning his face to hide his embarrassment. -And I like you too, even if sometimes you are a pain in the ass and not in a fun way. I have liked you for a while. So stop being an obnoxious idiot-.
-Come again- Minho teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
-I will smack you-. Kibum threatened, but his resistance softened soon. After a while, he gave in, facing MinHo with a vulnerable smile. -I like you, Minho-.
With those words, Minho could not hold back any longer. He captured Kibum's lips in a tender, lingering kiss, their shared breath mingling in the intimate space between them. It was a kiss filled with promise and hope for their new journey together.
Days later, Taemin's loud voice echoed through the room, punctuated by Jinki groaning in defeat. -Kibum hyung cried first! You owe me 20k won, Jinki hyung!- he proclaimed victoriously.
Kibum, however, had never kicked someone out of his flat so quickly.