SBB 2011 Entry #06: It's Not A Carriage (2/2)
Title: It's Not A Carriage
Pairing/Focus: Minho/Key, slight Onew/JongHyun
Rating: PG-13
Final word count: 14,495
Summary: Kibum drives a hearse. And he wants to know: would club music be appropriate to play while driving?
“I’ve never seen you this alarmed before,” Minho chuckled, watching as Kibum stared with disdain around the club.
“I don’t really like the loud music and everything here,” Kibum muttered. Minho grinned, waving to a waiter.
“You really don’t get out much, do you?”
Kibum glared before looking down. “I’m not exactly the type who makes friends.”
He glanced back up to see Minho waiting. “It was just my grandma and me, and I was happy with that. I didn’t need anyone else.” Kibum stopped, turning his attention to the dance floor. How people gyrated in such a sweaty, smelly mess disturbed Kibum greatly.
“Huh,” Minho said. He stared at Kibum a little longer, running his fingers along the decorated counter top. The waiter set down two glasses in front of them, one blue and one pink. Minho grabbed the blue one, nodding to Kibum before chugging its contents.
“Why do I get the pink one?” Kibum frowned, poking at the glass.
“Because you’re a girl,” Minho grinned. Kibum stuck his tongue out before sipping at it delicately. Minho ordered two more rounds.
“My brother sold drugs to his unit,” Minho suddenly said. “He wanted me to take over when I was enlisted into the air force.” He chugged a vodka shot.
Kibum watched as Minho rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Fucking idiot,” Minho muttered.
“Are we sharing deep secrets now?” Kibum responded, tapping his glass. The music in the club actually wasn’t that bad- it was just the people dancing to it that bothered him. Kibum watched the crowd for a little longer before turning back.
“I was invited to this one kid’s birthday party once,” Kibum said, taking another sip of his drink. “Only to find out that the party was at some strip club." He grinned wryly. “Apparently, people didn’t like little Kim Kibum.”
Minho laughed, lifting another shot. “My dad thought I had slipped drugs into my brother’s bunk because I was jealous of how great he was.”
“My parents left me when I was three because I quote, ‘they didn’t sign up for this.’”
“I was the first person in my entire family to be suspended from the air force. All because my brother framed me. His funeral was the first time I had seen my family in four years.”
“Kids from my high school tried to burn down my house because I’m gay.”
Minho stopped, vodka shot halfway to his mouth. Kibum grabbed the glass and chugged the vodka, grimacing as it burned its way down his throat. Raising his hand, he signaled to the waiter for more drinks.
As the night continued, Kibum and Minho stared at each other in silence, chugging drink after drink. Sometimes, a girl might slither up to Minho or Kibum might be momentarily distracted by the flickering lights of the disco ball- everything seemed so much more interesting when your head felt light and fuzzy- but the drinks continued and for the first time that night, Kibum was happy he had left his apartment.
“They were obviously jealous,” Minho suddenly blurted out. For a drunk bastard, his eyes are very bright, Kibum thought, his head lolling back. “Those kids who tried to burn down your house. They were jealous.”
“Why’s that?” Kibum managed to slur out.
“Because you’re a very pretty girl.”
Kibum stared at him, wondering idly if the pink sparkles in his vision were healthy or not. Ah, fuck it. And he began to giggle, little explosions that started within his stomach and crawled up to his throat.
Minho grinned.
---
“Kibum.”
He groaned, wondering how he had made it back last night. I don’t even remember how many drinks I had…
“Kibum.”
This was so unlike him. The last time Kibum had even consumed alcohol was at a wine tasting in France. Study abroad programs were so wonderful. Maybe if I just keep sleeping, the voice will dissolve into some dark abyss of my mind…
“Kibum.”
“Goddammit Jinki, if you don’t stop poking me I will embalm you myself.”
There was a scuttle and a slight whimper, soon accompanied by a deep chuckle. Kibum rolled over, desperately wishing that whatever was beyond his closed eyes would just leave forever thank you very much.
“Don’t worry, Jinki. He’s just grumpy because he didn’t get his beauty sleep.”
So much for wishing, Kibum grumbled. He stuck his head out from underneath the pillows, squinting as he made out Minho’s tall form hovering over his bed. Jinki seemed to be crouched behind him.
“Okay, I can understand why Jinki is here. I remember that much.” Kibum nodded to Jinki before turning to glare at Minho. “But what the hell are you still doing in my house?”
Minho snorted. “Good morning to you too, princess.” He smacked Kibum with a pillow before leaving the room.
“The fuck it is,” Kibum retorted, flinging a pillow back only to hit Jinki’s head. “And the fuck I am a princess.”
“Such vulgarity,” Minho sighed, sticking his head back in. “You would think a lady would have more manners.”
“I will cut you,” Kibum seethed. He leaped off his bed, only to be flung back by Jinki suddenly tackling him.
“Good morning, Kibum!” Jinki grinned, hugging Kibum tightly. “Thank you for letting me stay over last night.”
Kibum looked down at the beaming face before nudging Jinki off. “You’re impossible.”
“When you two are done,” Minho said, “I want breakfast.” He glanced over the pair with what appeared to be an amused look before heading off again. However, Kibum caught the slight tilt of Minho’s lips as they pursed unpleasantly.
“Did you sleep well?” Jinki smiled, pulling on Kibum’s arm. Kibum stretched as he got up.
“I should be asking you that question. Was my bed comfortable?”
Jinki laughed, missing Kibum’s annoyed frown. “It was so comfy!”
Tae Tae has more common sense than this guy…
“But, did you and Minho sleep well together?” Jinki continued.
Kibum nearly ran into the wall.
“Excuse me?” he managed to sputter.
Jinki looked at him quizzically. “You and Minho. Were you guys comfy together on the couch?”
There was a shriek and a crash, causing Minho to look into the hallway. He was met with the sight of Kibum rushing into the bathroom as Jinki worriedly chased after him.
---
“Kibum, are you all right?” Jinki cried out, knocking on the bathroom door. A few seconds later, Kibum quietly walked out.
“Good news,” he said. “I’m not pregnant.”
“The fuck?”
Kibum whirled around to see Amber standing in the middle of the hall, staring at him with shock.
Minho poked his head from the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Kibum. Um, your friend Amber knocked on the door so I let her in.”
Kibum stood there desperately wishing some apocalyptic hole would just open up and suck him into oblivion.
“Wait, so how are you pregnant?” Jinki asked, staring intently at Kibum.
“The fuck?” Minho shouted, eyes bulging to dangerous extents.
Yeah. That apocalyptic abyss sounded great right about now.
---
“Jinki and I’ll go get some breakfast for everybody,” Minho called out, yanking Jinki towards the door.
“But we can eat the banana bread I brought,” Jinki pouted, earning a glare from Minho.
“Like I’m going to even touch that bread after what you did,” he muttered. “Baked it with dead bodies, you must be crazy.”
Their bickering voices stopped as the door slammed shut, leaving Amber to continue staring at Kibum.
“Well,” she finally said. “Minho’s hot.”
Kibum snorted as he headed into the bedroom. “You judge people based on the most important of characteristics.”
Amber smirked as she followed Kibum, throwing herself onto the bed. “So, did you sleep with him? Because then I’m very impressed."
“I have not even accidentally brushed shoulders with him, Amber. So sorry to disappoint but no, we’re still awkward acquaintances,” Kibum replied, rummaging through his closet.
“Didn’t seem like mere acquaintances to me,” she teased. “And he was ogling at you quite a bit.”
“Who doesn’t want a piece of this hot mess?” Kibum retorted. But Amber didn’t miss the way his eyes curved slightly, hiding a small smile.
“So did anything happen last night?” she pried.
“Well, Jinki passed out around eight from sheer excitement, though the eight bottles of beer might have had something to do with it. Oh, and I got to hear Jinki’s imitation of Justin Bieber on steroids, which is surprisingly accurate. I witnessed a multitude of people having sex on a dance floor, Minho and I had a heart-to-heart session in which we revealed our deepest and darkest secrets, and after that everything’s just a blur of pink sparkles.”
“You lucky bitch,” Amber sighed. Leaning against the wall, Kibum smiled.
“Yeah, I know.”
---
“We’re going to need you to do double-shifts this afternoon, so please plan to stay late.”
Mr. Lee’s dry voice filtered through Key’s ears as he headed to his next lecture. Old man sounds dead even on voice mail, Kibum grunted to himself.
But as he sat through his business lecture and listened about accelerated depreciation, Kibum couldn’t help but feel a slight anticipation. Must have been those donuts Minho brought back this morning. At least, that’s what Kibum told himself as he sped to the funeral home for his afternoon shift.
“That was really fun last night,” Jinki gushed as he helped Kibum wax the hearse.
“Hm,” Kibum replied.
“Did you have fun, Kibum?”
Kibum looked across the car, regarding Jinki’s expectant face. Damn his little face, with those glasses and that pout…
“I did,” Minho called out, walking towards the car. He laughed as Jinki let out a pleased shout.
“Minho!” Jinki waved. “What are you doing here?”
Kibum supposed he should have been listening to the conversation at that moment. But he suddenly found himself horribly distracted by how Minho’s hair curled perfectly around his neck, or the endearing way his hands were fixed in his pockets. And there, that little grin on his lips that said he was holding in a secret and was just daring you to ask. Blame it on the sunlight, or maybe it was the wax on the hearse that reflected everything right now, but Kibum just couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from Choi Minho at that moment.
Kibum chose to blame it on the terrible effects of alcohol and Amber Liu’s ridiculous fan girling over Minho last night.
“Is that a no?”
“What?” Kibum snapped, cringing as he noticed Minho take a step back.
“I guess not,” Minho frowned. “I was just wondering if you guys wanted to grab dinner tonight.”
“I want to,” Jinki cried out, eagerly waving his hand in the air. Kibum threw the waxing rag at him.
“As long as it’s not Thai,” Kibum said, avoiding Minho’s gaze.
“I can work with that,” Minho said, smiling brilliantly.
“If you’re not busy, you should just hang out with us this afternoon,” Jinki said. “I’m going to prepare another client later, and you guys can watch.”
Minho’s eyes lit up. “That would actually be really interesting.”
“How about it, Kibum?” Jinki asked.
“There is no way I am going to witness you tear apart some dead person,” Kibum replied. “I actually want to have an appetite before dinner.”
“But it’s not that bad,” Jinki insisted. “I promise, you’ll keep your appetite.”
---
Kibum should have known better than to trust Jinki, especially when it came to dead people and appetites. So he quietly, and furiously, berated himself as he stared at the dead individual lying on the metal table before them.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Kibum whispered.
“Ah, I forgot that today’s client had just suffered an accident,” Jinki said sheepishly. “The hospital didn’t have time to clean him up, so I offered to do that as well.”
Kibum felt his legs wobble slightly and clutched the nearest support which, to his mild happiness and immense horror, turned out to be Minho. The latter clutched Kibum’s arms, holding him up against his chest.
“Um, I’ll take care of this right now,” Jinki squeaked, moving around the room.
“Are you all right?” Minho said, looking at Kibum worriedly. He looked around the room, calling out to Jinki about a toilet or sink Kibum could use.
Kibum briefly thought that maybe military brats weren’t that bad- well, if they’re as rugged and chivalrous as Minho was at this moment anyways. After that, Kibum found himself facing the floor, hurling everywhere as Jinki hysterically yelled in the background.
---
“What is this, like the fifth unofficial date we’ve gone on?” Minho grinned cheekily. Kibum ground his teeth, cursing Mr. Lee for making Jinki work tonight.
Though his throwing up all over the embalming room’s floor may have had something to do with it.
Yet another meal with Choi Minho…alone. Kibum didn’t know whether to be horrified or ecstatic.
“Well don’t get so excited,” Minho said, putting down the menu with a slight frown.
“Sorry,” Kibum muttered. “I just…I’m awkward.”
Minho chuckled. “Then what does that make Jinki?”
---
“What does that make you?” Kibum frowned as he leaned against the mop.
“Excuse me?” Jinki asked, looking over.
Kibum peered intently at him. “What are you, Lee Jinki?”
Jinki chuckled quietly before wiping the floor again. “You’ve been acting really bizarre since you got back from dinner with Minho." He gave Kibum a look. “Did you guys….”
If cheeks could smolder and flame, Kibum was sure his were on fire by now. Glaring at Jinki’s suggestive smile, Kibum scoffed as awkwardly as possible. “Just because I had dinner with Minho you think I’m acting weird?”
Jinki smiled. “Well, thanks for stopping by to help me clean anyways.”
Kibum shrugged, idly pushing the mop. “Well, it was kind of my fault you had to stay behind. I’m not completely heartless.”
Jinki grinned as he resumed wiping the floor, a faint tune on his lips. And Kibum wondered about Jinki, about who he was, how old he was, what his life goals were, why in the world he worked as an embalmer in his dad’s funeral home. Surely a bumbling fool like Jinki had better things to do than work here. And Kibum meant that in the most caring way.
“So did you have dinner with your dad?” he said, pushing the mop bucket over to Jinki.
Jinki stopped wiping. “We didn’t really have time to eat.”
There were some things in the world Kibum never wanted to see again. Among that list was Jang Hye Soo’s horrific haircut from the seventh grade, Amber’s disgusting wonton casserole, and basically all of the people from his hometown.
And when Jinki turned to look at Kibum, those eyes slanted downwards with a torrent of tears flowing from them, his mouth twisted into a heartbreaking grimace- that topped the list. Kibum didn’t ever want to see that again.
His mop dropped to the floor, Jinki’s rag and the bucket left forgotten in the middle of the room as Kibum dragged Jinki out the door, through the lobby and out to the hearse, pushing him in as thunder rolled in the background.
“We’re going for a little drive,” Kibum muttered, pulling out the keys. He briefly thanked God upon discovering no body in the back of the hearse and jerked the gear shift into drive as the first rain drops fell.
Where the hell am I even going, Kibum thought idly. Stopping at the signal, he wished the windshield wipers could dry away Jinki’s tears as easily as it flicked away the rain.
“My dad and I,” Jinki hiccupped. “We got into an argument. Again.”
I always knew that Mr. Lee was a creep, sitting there all day in his little cubicle, counting dead bodies…
Kibum floored the gas, wincing as the hearse skidded slightly.
“He wants me to quit this job.”
Kibum braked quickly at a stop sign, turning to look at Jinki as he sped forwards.
“Wait, what-“
“Turn right. Here.”
Kibum cursed as he quickly turned. “Christ, Jinki! You cannot just tell me to turn in the middle of the-“
“Left, left here and then straight in.”
“Goddammit, Jinki! If you don’t stop telling me random directions-“
Kibum stopped talking, opting to grumble quietly.
“I am not paying for brake repairs on this vehicle,” he muttered before looking out the window. “Where are we anyways?”
“He told me to enroll in classes again, find another job, get my license…” Jinki sniffed. “Basically move on after what happened with JongHyun.”
He twiddled his fingers before placing them on the window, tracing the rain patterns.
“I wanted to be a doctor you know. JongHyun, he had a defective heart and I promised him I would be his surgeon one day - that I would fix his heart for him.”
Kibum breathed slowly. The drops of rain quickly turned into a dull thrum against the hearse.
“Instead, some stupid doctor decided to go ahead and operate. And I lost him. I lost JongHyun.”
“Stop here,” Jinki whispered. Kibum eased the brakes, looking out the window to make out something past the pounding rain.
A single grave under a cherry tree marked Kim JongHyun.
Jinki sighed, turning to Kibum with a rueful grin. “I suppose it’s a good thing my father taught me embalming instead of sending me off to medical school.”
---
“Thanks for driving me, Kibum,” Jinki said. Half-smiling, he pointed to the hearse. “And I’ll talk to my dad about the brakes.”
Kibum rolled his eyes. “You better. It’s not coming out of my paycheck.”
There was a small choking sound as Jinki tried to laugh. It caught in his throat, and he managed a teary grin instead.
“Go home and sleep, Jinki. You’ve been working too hard,” Kibum quickly said, pushing Jinki to the back room. “And maybe I’ll even bake you some banana bread tomorrow.”
Usually Kibum hated when people touched him. Even Amber was given a glare when she tousled his hair. But Kibum figured he could let it slide once as Jinki softly patted his head.
“You’re kind of nice,” Jinki whispered.
“And you’re kind of cool.”
There was a hint of a smile, and Kibum watched as Jinki walked away, his footsteps a bit lighter. Twirling the hearse keys, Kibum made his way to the lobby.
“The hearse brakes might need some maintenance,” Kibum said upon seeing Mr. Lee crouched over a pile of papers. “You can take the fees out of my paycheck since I did most of the damage.”
It didn’t hit Kibum until now how much Mr. Lee and Jinki resembled each other. Maybe it was the way both of their shoulders hunched with an unbearable weight, the awkward tilt of the lips, the small eyes bleary and tired. Or maybe it was the way both of them looked as if they had been punched over and over again, and they were slowly giving in.
What is it with this goddamn funeral home and making people look old? Kibum thought. Something about this place.
Still hunched over, Mr. Lee pulled out some papers, his glasses glinting in the dim light.
“I’m not a terrible father,” he said quietly. “I haven’t been able to give Jinki everything, but I’ve done what I could and more. I’ve protected him, taught him, raised him, let him be…” He looked up. “He’s my son.”
Kibum merely blinked back before Mr. Lee sighed, continuing to scribble across the papers.
“I taught Jinki to embalm people because I wanted him to encase memories, to bring alive the last moments people have on this earth before being placed six feet under.”
Kibum winced as the pen scratched harder across the paper, ink bleeding out.
“After he embalmed JongHyun, I don’t think he ever let go.” The scratching stopped. “And now I wonder if what I taught him is what’s keeping my son trapped in this place.”
Mr. Lee pulled out another paper. “Thank you for being so nice to Jinki. He doesn’t really have many friends.”
He handed Kibum the piece of paper before taking the keys from him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight, Kibum.”
Halfway out the door, Kibum swiveled around. “What is this anyways?” he asked, waving the paper.
“The bill for the brake repairs.” That was the first time Kibum had ever seen Mr. Lee smile.
In the parking lot Kibum gaped at the fees for the brake repairs, cursing his good deeds. There is something seriously messed up about this place, he decided.
Turning to head back into the funeral home, Kibum paused as he saw Jinki walk over to his father, a small smile on his face. Mr. Lee gruffly touched Jinki’s head before tugging him into a hug. The pair left the building, disappearing into the darkness. The funeral home sign flickered before flashing on, a luminous pink against the navy night sky.
To a Better Place.
Yeah, there is definitely something about this place, Kibum thought as he drove away, the sign still flickering brightly on his rear view mirror.
---
“Tell me you did not just run all the way to my apartment,” Minho deadpanned as he looked at a huffing Kibum standing at his doorstep. “Because that is just cheesy, not to mention plain stupid.”
“Stairs,” Kibum wheezed. “Goddamn elevator doesn’t work.”
He gasped a little while longer before regarding Minho, who was leaning against the door.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Kibum frowned. Minho shrugged.
“I kind of want other people to hear what you’re about to say,” he smirked. “For future reference.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“That can actually be considered a compliment.”
“Ass.”
“Yours looks nice.”
“I can’t believe I like someone like you.”
“Ah, so you are completely infatuated with me.” That lecherous grin spread across Minho’s face.
A pause.
“Yeah.”
Minho stared at him, a small glint in his eyes that caused Kibum to self-consciously pick at his sweater. In one movement, he wrapped his arms tightly around Kibum.
“I’ll take it.”
---
“Minseok and I used to go to this one field all the time. He would bring a ball with him, and all day long, I would fetch it every fucking time he kicked it. Because in my eyes, Minseok was the coolest person in the world- and I would have done anything for him.” Minho’s eyes hardened. “But I was done picking up after my brother- not when he had let me down like that.”
Kibum noticed the portrait behind Minho’s head. Four rows of impassive military men standing with the same starch white uniforms and the same grim line painted on their faces.
“You know, I was the last person to see my brother alive,” Minho said, turning a mug of tea in his hands. “The day of his last patrol, he came to my bunk and asked me if I could fetch one last kick.” He laughed, small tears gathering. “I told him to fuck off.”
Kibum carefully watched Minho, thinking that whoever said soldiers were strong and fearless fighters was an idiot. They were every bit as broken and cracked as anyone else, maybe more. They were nothing like the callous men that hung on Minho's walls.
“That reminds me of when I used to follow my grandma to the market every day.” Kibum placed his mug on a table. “That’s how I left her actually. I dropped her off at the market, watched that little, old woman waddle her way in- and I drove off.”
He smiled upon seeing a picture of baby Minho, military cap covering the infant’s entire face as young Minseok hugged him proudly. Kibum sipped his tea.
“At least your grandmother loved you.”
Kibum’s cup hovered for a moment.
“But that didn’t stop people from burning down our house,” Kibum ruefully grinned. “It’s one thing for yourself to be hurt. It’s another thing entirely when the people you love are involved.”
Minho stared at Kibum, and as badly as he wanted to look away, Kibum held his gaze.
“I did love him, you know,” Minho finally said, words slow and heavy. “No matter what he did, no matter what happened, I did love my brother.”
“Nah,” Kibum shook his head. He tapped the picture of baby Minho, watching as Minho’s fist clenched around the porcelain mug.
“You do love him."
Kibum knew that he was never good at the whole social thing, but he felt that for once, he did something right.
At least, that’s what Minho’s teary smile said.
---
“Hello?”
Kibum remembers this one time, perhaps when he was about five, he had thrown a tantrum in some store. His grandma had looked tired, the weather had been disgustingly hot, and his new shoes had been horribly scuffed. He recalled some woman smacking his head, telling him to shut up and listen to his grandmother. Then there were shouts, loud yells…
Later in the police station, after his grandma had finished being questioned for beating that woman with a cane, Kibum sniffled as his grandma waved her cane around once more.
This is my grandson, she had shouted. My flesh and blood. And no one will lay a hand on him while he is with me, and no one will talk badly about him… no one…he is mine.
“Hello?”
Kibum remembers eating egg rice on his twelfth birthday. His grandma had managed to set up a feast for him, eyes tearing as she scooped more and more food onto his plate, telling him she loved him again and again.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“Grandma?”
Kibum remembers seeing an old lady hobbling into the market, turning for one last wave goodbye before she was surrounded by the dust of his car and the memories of a past he wanted to forget.
“Kibum? Is this my Kibum?”
My Kibum…
“Yeah, Grandma. It’s Kibum.” He closed his eyes. “I love you.”
---
“So how was it?” There was a flurry of movement and flailing limbs, a thud, and Kibum found himself staring up at Jinki’s beaming face. “How was your final?”
“Jinki, how in the hell did you get onto my campus?” Kibum glared, pushing him off.
“Oh, Minho managed to find us a way in.” Jinki motioned over to the side where the latter was being flocked by a group of overly eager girls. Kibum sniffed.
“There you are,” Minho said, making his way over. He lifted Kibum off the ground. “Your campus is so difficult to navigate around. It rivals my field test, I do believe.”
Kibum brushed dust off his sweater. “Well, it’s a bit easier without girls drooling over you, I do believe.”
Minho raised an eyebrow, that vulgar grin spreading across his face.
“Oh my God, you’re jealous,” he laughed. Kibum slapped Jinki when he started giggling as well.
“Come on,” Kibum huffed, dragging Jinki along. “I want food.”
“And I want Kibum,” Minho murmured, sliding next to him and slipping their hands together. Kibum flushed pleasantly, trying to contain the way his mouth twitched in a mixture of laughter, joy, and plain love sickness.
“Me too!” Jinki said gleefully. Kibum froze as Minho eyed Jinki dangerously.
“I want food too,” Jinki continued, pulling the pair along. “We should get Chinese. I’ve been dying for some dumplings, or wait, there’s a new barbecue place around here somewhere. And maybe afterwards, some frozen yogurt and…”
Later, once Minho and Jinki had in a joint effort devoured five pounds of meat and were happily shoving down frozen yogurt, Kibum decided that maybe things weren’t so bad.
There was Jinki, who he had gone with to place fresh lilies on JongHyun’s grave last week. Kibum had even taken it upon himself to bake some banana bread, much to Jinki’s tearful joy.
Then last Saturday, Kibum had watched as Minho saluted his brother’s grave, beautiful tears cascading down his face, a worn soccer ball by his feet.
And just yesterday, he promised his grandmother he would visit her next month- with Minho and Jinki of course.
“So life isn’t too terrible, huh?” Amber had said last night, listening to his excited rambles.
Kibum had in turn wailed as he crammed his brain with stock values, definitions, and pie graphs for his final. But that didn’t stop him from talking some more.
Things still suck, Kibum thought, watching Minho race Jinki to the parking lot. He nearly fainted upon seeing the hearse parked in the lot as it drew numerous stares from his peers. Jinki grinned obliviously as he opened the door for a red-faced Kibum. And things will definitely continue to suck.
But when he glanced over at Minho and Kibum saw those dark eyes fixed firmly on his own, he could see something bright ahead, like the brief light of the sun peeking in the horizon. And maybe it was a sunset or a sunrise… a much-needed closure or a new beginning. Whatever it was, it sparked something in Kibum that made him laugh ridiculously, Minho’s warm arm supporting him and Jinki’s confused giggles filling his ears.
Yeah, life isn’t too terrible at all.
Previous
Pairing/Focus: Minho/Key, slight Onew/JongHyun
Rating: PG-13
Final word count: 14,495
Summary: Kibum drives a hearse. And he wants to know: would club music be appropriate to play while driving?
“I’ve never seen you this alarmed before,” Minho chuckled, watching as Kibum stared with disdain around the club.
“I don’t really like the loud music and everything here,” Kibum muttered. Minho grinned, waving to a waiter.
“You really don’t get out much, do you?”
Kibum glared before looking down. “I’m not exactly the type who makes friends.”
He glanced back up to see Minho waiting. “It was just my grandma and me, and I was happy with that. I didn’t need anyone else.” Kibum stopped, turning his attention to the dance floor. How people gyrated in such a sweaty, smelly mess disturbed Kibum greatly.
“Huh,” Minho said. He stared at Kibum a little longer, running his fingers along the decorated counter top. The waiter set down two glasses in front of them, one blue and one pink. Minho grabbed the blue one, nodding to Kibum before chugging its contents.
“Why do I get the pink one?” Kibum frowned, poking at the glass.
“Because you’re a girl,” Minho grinned. Kibum stuck his tongue out before sipping at it delicately. Minho ordered two more rounds.
“My brother sold drugs to his unit,” Minho suddenly said. “He wanted me to take over when I was enlisted into the air force.” He chugged a vodka shot.
Kibum watched as Minho rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Fucking idiot,” Minho muttered.
“Are we sharing deep secrets now?” Kibum responded, tapping his glass. The music in the club actually wasn’t that bad- it was just the people dancing to it that bothered him. Kibum watched the crowd for a little longer before turning back.
“I was invited to this one kid’s birthday party once,” Kibum said, taking another sip of his drink. “Only to find out that the party was at some strip club." He grinned wryly. “Apparently, people didn’t like little Kim Kibum.”
Minho laughed, lifting another shot. “My dad thought I had slipped drugs into my brother’s bunk because I was jealous of how great he was.”
“My parents left me when I was three because I quote, ‘they didn’t sign up for this.’”
“I was the first person in my entire family to be suspended from the air force. All because my brother framed me. His funeral was the first time I had seen my family in four years.”
“Kids from my high school tried to burn down my house because I’m gay.”
Minho stopped, vodka shot halfway to his mouth. Kibum grabbed the glass and chugged the vodka, grimacing as it burned its way down his throat. Raising his hand, he signaled to the waiter for more drinks.
As the night continued, Kibum and Minho stared at each other in silence, chugging drink after drink. Sometimes, a girl might slither up to Minho or Kibum might be momentarily distracted by the flickering lights of the disco ball- everything seemed so much more interesting when your head felt light and fuzzy- but the drinks continued and for the first time that night, Kibum was happy he had left his apartment.
“They were obviously jealous,” Minho suddenly blurted out. For a drunk bastard, his eyes are very bright, Kibum thought, his head lolling back. “Those kids who tried to burn down your house. They were jealous.”
“Why’s that?” Kibum managed to slur out.
“Because you’re a very pretty girl.”
Kibum stared at him, wondering idly if the pink sparkles in his vision were healthy or not. Ah, fuck it. And he began to giggle, little explosions that started within his stomach and crawled up to his throat.
Minho grinned.
---
“Kibum.”
He groaned, wondering how he had made it back last night. I don’t even remember how many drinks I had…
“Kibum.”
This was so unlike him. The last time Kibum had even consumed alcohol was at a wine tasting in France. Study abroad programs were so wonderful. Maybe if I just keep sleeping, the voice will dissolve into some dark abyss of my mind…
“Kibum.”
“Goddammit Jinki, if you don’t stop poking me I will embalm you myself.”
There was a scuttle and a slight whimper, soon accompanied by a deep chuckle. Kibum rolled over, desperately wishing that whatever was beyond his closed eyes would just leave forever thank you very much.
“Don’t worry, Jinki. He’s just grumpy because he didn’t get his beauty sleep.”
So much for wishing, Kibum grumbled. He stuck his head out from underneath the pillows, squinting as he made out Minho’s tall form hovering over his bed. Jinki seemed to be crouched behind him.
“Okay, I can understand why Jinki is here. I remember that much.” Kibum nodded to Jinki before turning to glare at Minho. “But what the hell are you still doing in my house?”
Minho snorted. “Good morning to you too, princess.” He smacked Kibum with a pillow before leaving the room.
“The fuck it is,” Kibum retorted, flinging a pillow back only to hit Jinki’s head. “And the fuck I am a princess.”
“Such vulgarity,” Minho sighed, sticking his head back in. “You would think a lady would have more manners.”
“I will cut you,” Kibum seethed. He leaped off his bed, only to be flung back by Jinki suddenly tackling him.
“Good morning, Kibum!” Jinki grinned, hugging Kibum tightly. “Thank you for letting me stay over last night.”
Kibum looked down at the beaming face before nudging Jinki off. “You’re impossible.”
“When you two are done,” Minho said, “I want breakfast.” He glanced over the pair with what appeared to be an amused look before heading off again. However, Kibum caught the slight tilt of Minho’s lips as they pursed unpleasantly.
“Did you sleep well?” Jinki smiled, pulling on Kibum’s arm. Kibum stretched as he got up.
“I should be asking you that question. Was my bed comfortable?”
Jinki laughed, missing Kibum’s annoyed frown. “It was so comfy!”
Tae Tae has more common sense than this guy…
“But, did you and Minho sleep well together?” Jinki continued.
Kibum nearly ran into the wall.
“Excuse me?” he managed to sputter.
Jinki looked at him quizzically. “You and Minho. Were you guys comfy together on the couch?”
There was a shriek and a crash, causing Minho to look into the hallway. He was met with the sight of Kibum rushing into the bathroom as Jinki worriedly chased after him.
---
“Kibum, are you all right?” Jinki cried out, knocking on the bathroom door. A few seconds later, Kibum quietly walked out.
“Good news,” he said. “I’m not pregnant.”
“The fuck?”
Kibum whirled around to see Amber standing in the middle of the hall, staring at him with shock.
Minho poked his head from the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Kibum. Um, your friend Amber knocked on the door so I let her in.”
Kibum stood there desperately wishing some apocalyptic hole would just open up and suck him into oblivion.
“Wait, so how are you pregnant?” Jinki asked, staring intently at Kibum.
“The fuck?” Minho shouted, eyes bulging to dangerous extents.
Yeah. That apocalyptic abyss sounded great right about now.
---
“Jinki and I’ll go get some breakfast for everybody,” Minho called out, yanking Jinki towards the door.
“But we can eat the banana bread I brought,” Jinki pouted, earning a glare from Minho.
“Like I’m going to even touch that bread after what you did,” he muttered. “Baked it with dead bodies, you must be crazy.”
Their bickering voices stopped as the door slammed shut, leaving Amber to continue staring at Kibum.
“Well,” she finally said. “Minho’s hot.”
Kibum snorted as he headed into the bedroom. “You judge people based on the most important of characteristics.”
Amber smirked as she followed Kibum, throwing herself onto the bed. “So, did you sleep with him? Because then I’m very impressed."
“I have not even accidentally brushed shoulders with him, Amber. So sorry to disappoint but no, we’re still awkward acquaintances,” Kibum replied, rummaging through his closet.
“Didn’t seem like mere acquaintances to me,” she teased. “And he was ogling at you quite a bit.”
“Who doesn’t want a piece of this hot mess?” Kibum retorted. But Amber didn’t miss the way his eyes curved slightly, hiding a small smile.
“So did anything happen last night?” she pried.
“Well, Jinki passed out around eight from sheer excitement, though the eight bottles of beer might have had something to do with it. Oh, and I got to hear Jinki’s imitation of Justin Bieber on steroids, which is surprisingly accurate. I witnessed a multitude of people having sex on a dance floor, Minho and I had a heart-to-heart session in which we revealed our deepest and darkest secrets, and after that everything’s just a blur of pink sparkles.”
“You lucky bitch,” Amber sighed. Leaning against the wall, Kibum smiled.
“Yeah, I know.”
---
“We’re going to need you to do double-shifts this afternoon, so please plan to stay late.”
Mr. Lee’s dry voice filtered through Key’s ears as he headed to his next lecture. Old man sounds dead even on voice mail, Kibum grunted to himself.
But as he sat through his business lecture and listened about accelerated depreciation, Kibum couldn’t help but feel a slight anticipation. Must have been those donuts Minho brought back this morning. At least, that’s what Kibum told himself as he sped to the funeral home for his afternoon shift.
“That was really fun last night,” Jinki gushed as he helped Kibum wax the hearse.
“Hm,” Kibum replied.
“Did you have fun, Kibum?”
Kibum looked across the car, regarding Jinki’s expectant face. Damn his little face, with those glasses and that pout…
“I did,” Minho called out, walking towards the car. He laughed as Jinki let out a pleased shout.
“Minho!” Jinki waved. “What are you doing here?”
Kibum supposed he should have been listening to the conversation at that moment. But he suddenly found himself horribly distracted by how Minho’s hair curled perfectly around his neck, or the endearing way his hands were fixed in his pockets. And there, that little grin on his lips that said he was holding in a secret and was just daring you to ask. Blame it on the sunlight, or maybe it was the wax on the hearse that reflected everything right now, but Kibum just couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from Choi Minho at that moment.
Kibum chose to blame it on the terrible effects of alcohol and Amber Liu’s ridiculous fan girling over Minho last night.
“Is that a no?”
“What?” Kibum snapped, cringing as he noticed Minho take a step back.
“I guess not,” Minho frowned. “I was just wondering if you guys wanted to grab dinner tonight.”
“I want to,” Jinki cried out, eagerly waving his hand in the air. Kibum threw the waxing rag at him.
“As long as it’s not Thai,” Kibum said, avoiding Minho’s gaze.
“I can work with that,” Minho said, smiling brilliantly.
“If you’re not busy, you should just hang out with us this afternoon,” Jinki said. “I’m going to prepare another client later, and you guys can watch.”
Minho’s eyes lit up. “That would actually be really interesting.”
“How about it, Kibum?” Jinki asked.
“There is no way I am going to witness you tear apart some dead person,” Kibum replied. “I actually want to have an appetite before dinner.”
“But it’s not that bad,” Jinki insisted. “I promise, you’ll keep your appetite.”
---
Kibum should have known better than to trust Jinki, especially when it came to dead people and appetites. So he quietly, and furiously, berated himself as he stared at the dead individual lying on the metal table before them.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Kibum whispered.
“Ah, I forgot that today’s client had just suffered an accident,” Jinki said sheepishly. “The hospital didn’t have time to clean him up, so I offered to do that as well.”
Kibum felt his legs wobble slightly and clutched the nearest support which, to his mild happiness and immense horror, turned out to be Minho. The latter clutched Kibum’s arms, holding him up against his chest.
“Um, I’ll take care of this right now,” Jinki squeaked, moving around the room.
“Are you all right?” Minho said, looking at Kibum worriedly. He looked around the room, calling out to Jinki about a toilet or sink Kibum could use.
Kibum briefly thought that maybe military brats weren’t that bad- well, if they’re as rugged and chivalrous as Minho was at this moment anyways. After that, Kibum found himself facing the floor, hurling everywhere as Jinki hysterically yelled in the background.
---
“What is this, like the fifth unofficial date we’ve gone on?” Minho grinned cheekily. Kibum ground his teeth, cursing Mr. Lee for making Jinki work tonight.
Though his throwing up all over the embalming room’s floor may have had something to do with it.
Yet another meal with Choi Minho…alone. Kibum didn’t know whether to be horrified or ecstatic.
“Well don’t get so excited,” Minho said, putting down the menu with a slight frown.
“Sorry,” Kibum muttered. “I just…I’m awkward.”
Minho chuckled. “Then what does that make Jinki?”
---
“What does that make you?” Kibum frowned as he leaned against the mop.
“Excuse me?” Jinki asked, looking over.
Kibum peered intently at him. “What are you, Lee Jinki?”
Jinki chuckled quietly before wiping the floor again. “You’ve been acting really bizarre since you got back from dinner with Minho." He gave Kibum a look. “Did you guys….”
If cheeks could smolder and flame, Kibum was sure his were on fire by now. Glaring at Jinki’s suggestive smile, Kibum scoffed as awkwardly as possible. “Just because I had dinner with Minho you think I’m acting weird?”
Jinki smiled. “Well, thanks for stopping by to help me clean anyways.”
Kibum shrugged, idly pushing the mop. “Well, it was kind of my fault you had to stay behind. I’m not completely heartless.”
Jinki grinned as he resumed wiping the floor, a faint tune on his lips. And Kibum wondered about Jinki, about who he was, how old he was, what his life goals were, why in the world he worked as an embalmer in his dad’s funeral home. Surely a bumbling fool like Jinki had better things to do than work here. And Kibum meant that in the most caring way.
“So did you have dinner with your dad?” he said, pushing the mop bucket over to Jinki.
Jinki stopped wiping. “We didn’t really have time to eat.”
There were some things in the world Kibum never wanted to see again. Among that list was Jang Hye Soo’s horrific haircut from the seventh grade, Amber’s disgusting wonton casserole, and basically all of the people from his hometown.
And when Jinki turned to look at Kibum, those eyes slanted downwards with a torrent of tears flowing from them, his mouth twisted into a heartbreaking grimace- that topped the list. Kibum didn’t ever want to see that again.
His mop dropped to the floor, Jinki’s rag and the bucket left forgotten in the middle of the room as Kibum dragged Jinki out the door, through the lobby and out to the hearse, pushing him in as thunder rolled in the background.
“We’re going for a little drive,” Kibum muttered, pulling out the keys. He briefly thanked God upon discovering no body in the back of the hearse and jerked the gear shift into drive as the first rain drops fell.
Where the hell am I even going, Kibum thought idly. Stopping at the signal, he wished the windshield wipers could dry away Jinki’s tears as easily as it flicked away the rain.
“My dad and I,” Jinki hiccupped. “We got into an argument. Again.”
I always knew that Mr. Lee was a creep, sitting there all day in his little cubicle, counting dead bodies…
Kibum floored the gas, wincing as the hearse skidded slightly.
“He wants me to quit this job.”
Kibum braked quickly at a stop sign, turning to look at Jinki as he sped forwards.
“Wait, what-“
“Turn right. Here.”
Kibum cursed as he quickly turned. “Christ, Jinki! You cannot just tell me to turn in the middle of the-“
“Left, left here and then straight in.”
“Goddammit, Jinki! If you don’t stop telling me random directions-“
Kibum stopped talking, opting to grumble quietly.
“I am not paying for brake repairs on this vehicle,” he muttered before looking out the window. “Where are we anyways?”
“He told me to enroll in classes again, find another job, get my license…” Jinki sniffed. “Basically move on after what happened with JongHyun.”
He twiddled his fingers before placing them on the window, tracing the rain patterns.
“I wanted to be a doctor you know. JongHyun, he had a defective heart and I promised him I would be his surgeon one day - that I would fix his heart for him.”
Kibum breathed slowly. The drops of rain quickly turned into a dull thrum against the hearse.
“Instead, some stupid doctor decided to go ahead and operate. And I lost him. I lost JongHyun.”
“Stop here,” Jinki whispered. Kibum eased the brakes, looking out the window to make out something past the pounding rain.
A single grave under a cherry tree marked Kim JongHyun.
Jinki sighed, turning to Kibum with a rueful grin. “I suppose it’s a good thing my father taught me embalming instead of sending me off to medical school.”
---
“Thanks for driving me, Kibum,” Jinki said. Half-smiling, he pointed to the hearse. “And I’ll talk to my dad about the brakes.”
Kibum rolled his eyes. “You better. It’s not coming out of my paycheck.”
There was a small choking sound as Jinki tried to laugh. It caught in his throat, and he managed a teary grin instead.
“Go home and sleep, Jinki. You’ve been working too hard,” Kibum quickly said, pushing Jinki to the back room. “And maybe I’ll even bake you some banana bread tomorrow.”
Usually Kibum hated when people touched him. Even Amber was given a glare when she tousled his hair. But Kibum figured he could let it slide once as Jinki softly patted his head.
“You’re kind of nice,” Jinki whispered.
“And you’re kind of cool.”
There was a hint of a smile, and Kibum watched as Jinki walked away, his footsteps a bit lighter. Twirling the hearse keys, Kibum made his way to the lobby.
“The hearse brakes might need some maintenance,” Kibum said upon seeing Mr. Lee crouched over a pile of papers. “You can take the fees out of my paycheck since I did most of the damage.”
It didn’t hit Kibum until now how much Mr. Lee and Jinki resembled each other. Maybe it was the way both of their shoulders hunched with an unbearable weight, the awkward tilt of the lips, the small eyes bleary and tired. Or maybe it was the way both of them looked as if they had been punched over and over again, and they were slowly giving in.
What is it with this goddamn funeral home and making people look old? Kibum thought. Something about this place.
Still hunched over, Mr. Lee pulled out some papers, his glasses glinting in the dim light.
“I’m not a terrible father,” he said quietly. “I haven’t been able to give Jinki everything, but I’ve done what I could and more. I’ve protected him, taught him, raised him, let him be…” He looked up. “He’s my son.”
Kibum merely blinked back before Mr. Lee sighed, continuing to scribble across the papers.
“I taught Jinki to embalm people because I wanted him to encase memories, to bring alive the last moments people have on this earth before being placed six feet under.”
Kibum winced as the pen scratched harder across the paper, ink bleeding out.
“After he embalmed JongHyun, I don’t think he ever let go.” The scratching stopped. “And now I wonder if what I taught him is what’s keeping my son trapped in this place.”
Mr. Lee pulled out another paper. “Thank you for being so nice to Jinki. He doesn’t really have many friends.”
He handed Kibum the piece of paper before taking the keys from him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Goodnight, Kibum.”
Halfway out the door, Kibum swiveled around. “What is this anyways?” he asked, waving the paper.
“The bill for the brake repairs.” That was the first time Kibum had ever seen Mr. Lee smile.
In the parking lot Kibum gaped at the fees for the brake repairs, cursing his good deeds. There is something seriously messed up about this place, he decided.
Turning to head back into the funeral home, Kibum paused as he saw Jinki walk over to his father, a small smile on his face. Mr. Lee gruffly touched Jinki’s head before tugging him into a hug. The pair left the building, disappearing into the darkness. The funeral home sign flickered before flashing on, a luminous pink against the navy night sky.
To a Better Place.
Yeah, there is definitely something about this place, Kibum thought as he drove away, the sign still flickering brightly on his rear view mirror.
---
“Tell me you did not just run all the way to my apartment,” Minho deadpanned as he looked at a huffing Kibum standing at his doorstep. “Because that is just cheesy, not to mention plain stupid.”
“Stairs,” Kibum wheezed. “Goddamn elevator doesn’t work.”
He gasped a little while longer before regarding Minho, who was leaning against the door.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Kibum frowned. Minho shrugged.
“I kind of want other people to hear what you’re about to say,” he smirked. “For future reference.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“That can actually be considered a compliment.”
“Ass.”
“Yours looks nice.”
“I can’t believe I like someone like you.”
“Ah, so you are completely infatuated with me.” That lecherous grin spread across Minho’s face.
A pause.
“Yeah.”
Minho stared at him, a small glint in his eyes that caused Kibum to self-consciously pick at his sweater. In one movement, he wrapped his arms tightly around Kibum.
“I’ll take it.”
---
“Minseok and I used to go to this one field all the time. He would bring a ball with him, and all day long, I would fetch it every fucking time he kicked it. Because in my eyes, Minseok was the coolest person in the world- and I would have done anything for him.” Minho’s eyes hardened. “But I was done picking up after my brother- not when he had let me down like that.”
Kibum noticed the portrait behind Minho’s head. Four rows of impassive military men standing with the same starch white uniforms and the same grim line painted on their faces.
“You know, I was the last person to see my brother alive,” Minho said, turning a mug of tea in his hands. “The day of his last patrol, he came to my bunk and asked me if I could fetch one last kick.” He laughed, small tears gathering. “I told him to fuck off.”
Kibum carefully watched Minho, thinking that whoever said soldiers were strong and fearless fighters was an idiot. They were every bit as broken and cracked as anyone else, maybe more. They were nothing like the callous men that hung on Minho's walls.
“That reminds me of when I used to follow my grandma to the market every day.” Kibum placed his mug on a table. “That’s how I left her actually. I dropped her off at the market, watched that little, old woman waddle her way in- and I drove off.”
He smiled upon seeing a picture of baby Minho, military cap covering the infant’s entire face as young Minseok hugged him proudly. Kibum sipped his tea.
“At least your grandmother loved you.”
Kibum’s cup hovered for a moment.
“But that didn’t stop people from burning down our house,” Kibum ruefully grinned. “It’s one thing for yourself to be hurt. It’s another thing entirely when the people you love are involved.”
Minho stared at Kibum, and as badly as he wanted to look away, Kibum held his gaze.
“I did love him, you know,” Minho finally said, words slow and heavy. “No matter what he did, no matter what happened, I did love my brother.”
“Nah,” Kibum shook his head. He tapped the picture of baby Minho, watching as Minho’s fist clenched around the porcelain mug.
“You do love him."
Kibum knew that he was never good at the whole social thing, but he felt that for once, he did something right.
At least, that’s what Minho’s teary smile said.
---
“Hello?”
Kibum remembers this one time, perhaps when he was about five, he had thrown a tantrum in some store. His grandma had looked tired, the weather had been disgustingly hot, and his new shoes had been horribly scuffed. He recalled some woman smacking his head, telling him to shut up and listen to his grandmother. Then there were shouts, loud yells…
Later in the police station, after his grandma had finished being questioned for beating that woman with a cane, Kibum sniffled as his grandma waved her cane around once more.
This is my grandson, she had shouted. My flesh and blood. And no one will lay a hand on him while he is with me, and no one will talk badly about him… no one…he is mine.
“Hello?”
Kibum remembers eating egg rice on his twelfth birthday. His grandma had managed to set up a feast for him, eyes tearing as she scooped more and more food onto his plate, telling him she loved him again and again.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“Grandma?”
Kibum remembers seeing an old lady hobbling into the market, turning for one last wave goodbye before she was surrounded by the dust of his car and the memories of a past he wanted to forget.
“Kibum? Is this my Kibum?”
My Kibum…
“Yeah, Grandma. It’s Kibum.” He closed his eyes. “I love you.”
---
“So how was it?” There was a flurry of movement and flailing limbs, a thud, and Kibum found himself staring up at Jinki’s beaming face. “How was your final?”
“Jinki, how in the hell did you get onto my campus?” Kibum glared, pushing him off.
“Oh, Minho managed to find us a way in.” Jinki motioned over to the side where the latter was being flocked by a group of overly eager girls. Kibum sniffed.
“There you are,” Minho said, making his way over. He lifted Kibum off the ground. “Your campus is so difficult to navigate around. It rivals my field test, I do believe.”
Kibum brushed dust off his sweater. “Well, it’s a bit easier without girls drooling over you, I do believe.”
Minho raised an eyebrow, that vulgar grin spreading across his face.
“Oh my God, you’re jealous,” he laughed. Kibum slapped Jinki when he started giggling as well.
“Come on,” Kibum huffed, dragging Jinki along. “I want food.”
“And I want Kibum,” Minho murmured, sliding next to him and slipping their hands together. Kibum flushed pleasantly, trying to contain the way his mouth twitched in a mixture of laughter, joy, and plain love sickness.
“Me too!” Jinki said gleefully. Kibum froze as Minho eyed Jinki dangerously.
“I want food too,” Jinki continued, pulling the pair along. “We should get Chinese. I’ve been dying for some dumplings, or wait, there’s a new barbecue place around here somewhere. And maybe afterwards, some frozen yogurt and…”
Later, once Minho and Jinki had in a joint effort devoured five pounds of meat and were happily shoving down frozen yogurt, Kibum decided that maybe things weren’t so bad.
There was Jinki, who he had gone with to place fresh lilies on JongHyun’s grave last week. Kibum had even taken it upon himself to bake some banana bread, much to Jinki’s tearful joy.
Then last Saturday, Kibum had watched as Minho saluted his brother’s grave, beautiful tears cascading down his face, a worn soccer ball by his feet.
And just yesterday, he promised his grandmother he would visit her next month- with Minho and Jinki of course.
“So life isn’t too terrible, huh?” Amber had said last night, listening to his excited rambles.
Kibum had in turn wailed as he crammed his brain with stock values, definitions, and pie graphs for his final. But that didn’t stop him from talking some more.
Things still suck, Kibum thought, watching Minho race Jinki to the parking lot. He nearly fainted upon seeing the hearse parked in the lot as it drew numerous stares from his peers. Jinki grinned obliviously as he opened the door for a red-faced Kibum. And things will definitely continue to suck.
But when he glanced over at Minho and Kibum saw those dark eyes fixed firmly on his own, he could see something bright ahead, like the brief light of the sun peeking in the horizon. And maybe it was a sunset or a sunrise… a much-needed closure or a new beginning. Whatever it was, it sparked something in Kibum that made him laugh ridiculously, Minho’s warm arm supporting him and Jinki’s confused giggles filling his ears.
Yeah, life isn’t too terrible at all.
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