121 → Tomorrow Would Be the Same, Kibum/Donghae, R
O-OMG. I wrote. :||||| After like, 5 months. IDEK why I wrote this, uhm, spur of the moment type of thing? D:
tomorrow would be the same.
Kibum/Donghae, R, 1355 words
what a psycho, you think as hyukjae one day confronts you to say that what kibum is doing is too much.
kibum really loves me very much, you think as he places both of his hands on either side of your face and rubs it a little after another good performance. you look up at him, smiling widely because you think it’s really (really really) sweet that he openly shows his affection towards you. you mentally slap yourself in the head for being too shy because after looking at the ground for about two seconds and lifting your head up (to say a thank you kibum, feeling your hands on my cheeks is a reminder that i’m the only one) you notice he’s gone. you look back to see him with the rest of the thirteen and you notice that he does the same with other members.
must be a newly-adopted sister, you think as you catch a glimpse of kibum in a fancy restaurant (he never took you to one before... not yet.) with a pretty (and sexy and hot and gorgeous) woman and you think they’re really attached at the hip. you blink a few times when the woman puckers up her lips and kibum doesn’t hesitate to capture those lips with his own. you smile and you plant in your mind to praise kibum on how he’s really awesome (and amazing and sweet) at being an older brother when he gets home.
he’s just tired, you think as he comes home cursing loudly at eleven in the evening (filming a drama, he said last morning) and ignores you (and the food on the table you prepared yourself) and just goes straight inside the bedroom. you hesitate a bit but you follow him inside anyway, hoping that seeing your happy disposition would at least cheer him up a little. you find him sprawled on the bed with his eyes closed and his brows squashed up together with the buttons of his polo shirt completely undone. you proceed to tiptoe towards him as to not wake him up (he’s tired from filming, after all, you think) but suddenly you hear a small creak on the floor and his eyes snap open and he’s glaring at you and you think you’re a bit scared and want to run away but instead you grin. he yanks you to the bed and he rolls so he’s on top of you and starts to kiss you, lick you, bite you. you ignore the taste of blood coming from your mouth and the stench of alcohol and cigarettes coming from his.
he must be exhausted, you think as you listen to the slight snoring sounds he makes after he fucks you without some sort of preparation. you quietly place his arms around you and you snuggle closer to him and you feel content, giving you the sort of cuddling he forgot to give you after every fuck. you pat his cheeks lightly and you thumb over his peaceful, closed eyes and sigh. you stand up wincing then facing the mirror to examine the grayish mark (of love) on your hips. you bend to pick up your torn clothes and you feel something drip from your ass and you look down to see only a pink-tinged liquid on the floor (it’s kibum’s) and you realize that you didn’t come.
this is the price of staying up late, you think as you grimace a little while rubbing ointment on the small bruise (it covered your whole right cheek) kibum left on your face. he came home drunk the other night (day?) (you still don’t know the reason why) and when he found you still awake at three in the morning (you were waiting for him) he got mad and immediately slammed you on the nearest concrete furniture (a sharp-edged dinner table). you accidentally smashed your face on the edge and you cursed yourself for being too clumsy.
he just wants me to learn my lesson, you think as you shudder and hug own body to shield yourself from the cold. it’s two in the morning and you you’ve been outside for around three hours (two? four? you lost track). kibum got furious because you wanted to cook dinner for him (because you know how much he hates both cooking and ordering out) but you ended up burning (wasting) the food and almost setting the kitchen on fire. you think that maybe kibum really wants you to learn your lesson as you hear the flick of a switch and suddenly all the lights inside the house turn off.
what a psycho, you think as hyukjae one day confronts you to say that what kibum is doing is too much. what do you mean?, you ask. i noticed all the bruises, hae. don’t play dumb, he says. kibum just wants me to be a better person, what are you saying, hyukkie?, you retort. please, just… we want to protect you, hae!, you hear him cry out and you think his eyes are brimming with tears but you just laugh and playfully smack your best friend at the back. you change the topic because you have no idea what he’s talking about.
these people are fucking with me, you think as you see a sleeping kibum (with a bit of too-white bubbly saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth) being taken away by strange people in white. you’re tired, you struggled long enough to escape hyukjae’s and eeteuk’s and heechul’s grasp and you’re guessing kibum really needs a lot of sleep because hyukjae is holding you tighter and even keeps repeating a lie that kibum is dead, donghae, drug overdose. i’m so sorry. (i’m sorry, i’m sorry). you don’t believe him (never will), but you cry anyway.
it’s been months, you think (but actually it only has been three weeks) as you huddle in the corner with red, puffy, and swollen eyes and you wonder why kibum is still not awake. you ask yourself if you have been a bad person because you think that maybe he doesn’t love you anymore (doesn’t want you anymore) that’s why he’s not waking up. you feel your heart breaking a little more but you assure yourself that kibum would never want to see you hurting. never.
i miss you, kibum, you think as you see him on top of the building across yours (rooftop). you think that maybe he’s a little too transparent for a normal person, and maybe it’s a bit weird for his foot to come in contact with solid ground yet the other is stepping on thin air, but then again kibum is never normal because he’s always extraordinary (in your eyes). you walk towards him and you have no idea how you got past that six foot steel railing and how you’re also walking in thin air but you don’t care anymore because you’re hugging (kissing, touching, holding) kibum again and for the first time in years you feel complete.
but i’m here, you think as you look down to see one, four, eight, eleven tear-stricken boys huddled together, clutching each other while watching yourself being taken to a white van (ambulance, you read) by people in white shirts and pants (again). you wrinkle your nose as you see a pool of red on the place where your body used to be and you think it’s weird because you can’t remember falling from that twenty-six storey building.
donghae, you think you hear kibum say but it’s not your imagination because he’s beside you and you see him holding out his hand for you to reach. you think that maybe you have a choice of either going back down because there are eleven people (and more, more, more) waiting for you or taking his hand and you’re together forever (and just be). it doesn’t take too long for you to decide.
this feels good, you think as kibum holds your hand a bit too much that it almost turned white. you smile, no, beam at him and you think that maybe he almost smiles but you’re wrong. you think his grip on your hand hurts a lot, but you’re not complaining.
not at all.
tomorrow would be the same.
Kibum/Donghae, R, 1355 words
what a psycho, you think as hyukjae one day confronts you to say that what kibum is doing is too much.
kibum really loves me very much, you think as he places both of his hands on either side of your face and rubs it a little after another good performance. you look up at him, smiling widely because you think it’s really (really really) sweet that he openly shows his affection towards you. you mentally slap yourself in the head for being too shy because after looking at the ground for about two seconds and lifting your head up (to say a thank you kibum, feeling your hands on my cheeks is a reminder that i’m the only one) you notice he’s gone. you look back to see him with the rest of the thirteen and you notice that he does the same with other members.
must be a newly-adopted sister, you think as you catch a glimpse of kibum in a fancy restaurant (he never took you to one before... not yet.) with a pretty (and sexy and hot and gorgeous) woman and you think they’re really attached at the hip. you blink a few times when the woman puckers up her lips and kibum doesn’t hesitate to capture those lips with his own. you smile and you plant in your mind to praise kibum on how he’s really awesome (and amazing and sweet) at being an older brother when he gets home.
he’s just tired, you think as he comes home cursing loudly at eleven in the evening (filming a drama, he said last morning) and ignores you (and the food on the table you prepared yourself) and just goes straight inside the bedroom. you hesitate a bit but you follow him inside anyway, hoping that seeing your happy disposition would at least cheer him up a little. you find him sprawled on the bed with his eyes closed and his brows squashed up together with the buttons of his polo shirt completely undone. you proceed to tiptoe towards him as to not wake him up (he’s tired from filming, after all, you think) but suddenly you hear a small creak on the floor and his eyes snap open and he’s glaring at you and you think you’re a bit scared and want to run away but instead you grin. he yanks you to the bed and he rolls so he’s on top of you and starts to kiss you, lick you, bite you. you ignore the taste of blood coming from your mouth and the stench of alcohol and cigarettes coming from his.
he must be exhausted, you think as you listen to the slight snoring sounds he makes after he fucks you without some sort of preparation. you quietly place his arms around you and you snuggle closer to him and you feel content, giving you the sort of cuddling he forgot to give you after every fuck. you pat his cheeks lightly and you thumb over his peaceful, closed eyes and sigh. you stand up wincing then facing the mirror to examine the grayish mark (of love) on your hips. you bend to pick up your torn clothes and you feel something drip from your ass and you look down to see only a pink-tinged liquid on the floor (it’s kibum’s) and you realize that you didn’t come.
this is the price of staying up late, you think as you grimace a little while rubbing ointment on the small bruise (it covered your whole right cheek) kibum left on your face. he came home drunk the other night (day?) (you still don’t know the reason why) and when he found you still awake at three in the morning (you were waiting for him) he got mad and immediately slammed you on the nearest concrete furniture (a sharp-edged dinner table). you accidentally smashed your face on the edge and you cursed yourself for being too clumsy.
he just wants me to learn my lesson, you think as you shudder and hug own body to shield yourself from the cold. it’s two in the morning and you you’ve been outside for around three hours (two? four? you lost track). kibum got furious because you wanted to cook dinner for him (because you know how much he hates both cooking and ordering out) but you ended up burning (wasting) the food and almost setting the kitchen on fire. you think that maybe kibum really wants you to learn your lesson as you hear the flick of a switch and suddenly all the lights inside the house turn off.
what a psycho, you think as hyukjae one day confronts you to say that what kibum is doing is too much. what do you mean?, you ask. i noticed all the bruises, hae. don’t play dumb, he says. kibum just wants me to be a better person, what are you saying, hyukkie?, you retort. please, just… we want to protect you, hae!, you hear him cry out and you think his eyes are brimming with tears but you just laugh and playfully smack your best friend at the back. you change the topic because you have no idea what he’s talking about.
these people are fucking with me, you think as you see a sleeping kibum (with a bit of too-white bubbly saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth) being taken away by strange people in white. you’re tired, you struggled long enough to escape hyukjae’s and eeteuk’s and heechul’s grasp and you’re guessing kibum really needs a lot of sleep because hyukjae is holding you tighter and even keeps repeating a lie that kibum is dead, donghae, drug overdose. i’m so sorry. (i’m sorry, i’m sorry). you don’t believe him (never will), but you cry anyway.
it’s been months, you think (but actually it only has been three weeks) as you huddle in the corner with red, puffy, and swollen eyes and you wonder why kibum is still not awake. you ask yourself if you have been a bad person because you think that maybe he doesn’t love you anymore (doesn’t want you anymore) that’s why he’s not waking up. you feel your heart breaking a little more but you assure yourself that kibum would never want to see you hurting. never.
i miss you, kibum, you think as you see him on top of the building across yours (rooftop). you think that maybe he’s a little too transparent for a normal person, and maybe it’s a bit weird for his foot to come in contact with solid ground yet the other is stepping on thin air, but then again kibum is never normal because he’s always extraordinary (in your eyes). you walk towards him and you have no idea how you got past that six foot steel railing and how you’re also walking in thin air but you don’t care anymore because you’re hugging (kissing, touching, holding) kibum again and for the first time in years you feel complete.
but i’m here, you think as you look down to see one, four, eight, eleven tear-stricken boys huddled together, clutching each other while watching yourself being taken to a white van (ambulance, you read) by people in white shirts and pants (again). you wrinkle your nose as you see a pool of red on the place where your body used to be and you think it’s weird because you can’t remember falling from that twenty-six storey building.
donghae, you think you hear kibum say but it’s not your imagination because he’s beside you and you see him holding out his hand for you to reach. you think that maybe you have a choice of either going back down because there are eleven people (and more, more, more) waiting for you or taking his hand and you’re together forever (and just be). it doesn’t take too long for you to decide.
this feels good, you think as kibum holds your hand a bit too much that it almost turned white. you smile, no, beam at him and you think that maybe he almost smiles but you’re wrong. you think his grip on your hand hurts a lot, but you’re not complaining.
not at all.