i'm just one wish away
i'm just one wish away; pg-15; minho/key
a/n: this is an old one. originally posted to shinee_replay . just reposting it here so I have everything in one place.
i'm just one wish away
They were the kind of couple that would have fights and half of their belongings would be thrown out the window, more bruises shared than kisses. Minho would come home late, sometimes never at all, only to find his wardrobe strewn across the ground outside their third floor apartment. He knew it was a mistake to try and talk to him, but he liked to think that he loved Kibum enough to try to fix things.
It was always worse when he walked in, Kibum white hot and lethal. It’s around then that he starts yelling, too, and the item closest to Kibum’s twitching fingers - white hot, lethal-ends up flying out the window to join Minho’s things on the ground. The toaster, today, and Minho doesn’t wait around to hear the crash as it hits the ground, to hear Kibum push over the couch, kick a chair into the wall.
The neighbors called the police, but Minho was gone before they got there. They look suspiciously at Kibum and the overturned apartment. There’s only one person there, so they can’t file it under domestic abuse. They leave suspecting Kibum was crazy or just really hated his furniture.
Minho comes back the next day, soaking wet from the rain and tired from another sleepless night and Kibum is there waiting for him. The couch was still on its side, chairs still toppled over, things spilling out of cabinets and drawers, but Kibum is there and he doesn’t look as angry. Sad, maybe, but not angry.
His eyes are dark when he reaches for Minho, pulling him with him to the ground and they stay there, Minho’s legs cramped and uncomfortable as he leans against the wall, Kibum cradled in his lap. It must have looked ridiculous and Minho refused to look away from Kibum, Kibum looking anywhere other than at Minho, because he promised he wouldn’t cry anymore, and Kibum liked to keep all his promises to Minho.
--
They have the kind of makeup sex that suggests they’re always breaking up, teetering on the edge of Love and Downfall. They don’t speak, hardly make a noise, just fuck until they can’t think anymore.
Minho doesn’t move, lying still next to Kibum, memorizing the shape of his shoulders, the curve of his jaw, and the dip in his back until his mind turns back on. He wonders how he can love him so much but still leave without hesitation.
Kibum doesn’t have to think because he already knows that love and happiness are rarely the same.
--
The first time Minho hit Kibum it’s nothing more than a sound, a frightening echo of skin on skin, bone on bone. Kibum knew he deserved it, Minho wished he hadn’t done it. He thought Kibum would explode right then and there, walk away before Minho had the chance to.
The first time Kibum hits Minho is right after, an instinct he didn’t think about until after he’d done it, hand stinging. Shit I shouldn’t have done that. He stares right at him, eyes wide and wild, and he wants to yell but Minho isn’t looking at him.
Minho wants to leave but he doesn’t, because he promised Kibum that he would stay and try to work things out, so he just walks down the hall and to their room where he locks the door and stares at the window, debating whether he should make a run for it or not.
The silence and the view of the setting sun remind Minho of calming things. It’s almost too much and these things make the decision for him.
He runs, slipping out the window and to the fire escape, and he runs until it hurts to breath, hating himself for breaking promises so easily.
--
They both stare at the spot where the other should be-Kibum crumpled on the floor where he hadn’t moved since Minho walked away, eyes trained on the front door, waiting, hoping, praying that he will walk through, just like he always does-Minho wide awake in the bed of a stranger who looks just like Kibum, and if he squints his eyes enough he can almost believe it’s really him… but he can’t fool his memory, and Minho could trace every single one of his failures back to the notches in Kibum’s spine.
--
Kibum’s black eye was healing nicely, Minho noticed, feeling terrible every time he glances up at him, not able to believe that Kibum’s still able to be around him without screaming, without hitting.
Minho doesn’t look any different, Kibum noticed, feeling horrible for wishing it, but wanting Minho to at least show some scars, wondering how Minho is still able to be around him without breaking down, how he’s able to be so fucking beautiful all the time.
Maybe if they would both just look at each other they would see the apology hanging between them, but they remain oblivious, flinching when their hands brush.
--
It’s two weeks later and Minho is wide awake, Kibum asleep beside him and he can’t see the bruises anymore. His lips moved silently, forming three little words over and over, and he isn’t sure why he can’t say them out loud.
Hours later when Kibum finally wakes up it’s like Minho is seeing him for the first time. His hair mused from sleep and sweat, eye lids still heavy and lips bruised from kisses, blankets falling from his bare shoulders as he sits up.
Minho can’t move, just watches in rapt fascination as Kibum walks about the room, finding and putting on clothes and he’s choked up, a million thoughts running through his head but he can’t even begin to process it all.
Kibum notices, stopping in the process of him finding a proper outfit, sunlight filtering in through the blinds and forming in squares across his face. He looks amused, although a bit guarded, flattered by the extra attention but not sure what to think of it.
He wrinkles his nose, Minho blinking rapidly. “What?” He asks softly, not wanting to break whatever trance the two of them had fallen in.
“You’re beautiful.”
He was almost embarrassed to say it, quickly gathering the blankets around him and burying his face in them. He was acting immature, like a four year old. When he looked up Kibum was staring and Minho had that look committed to memory. Kibum’s smile was something real, creased the corners of his eyes until they were something beautiful and wild.
Minho came out from behind the blankets, holding his arms open and Kibum fell into him; warm and close and something that sounded like a laugh floating out of him. He kissed him on the tip of his nose and that earned him another laugh.
It was something close to perfect, Minho was positive.
--
They were the kind of couple that still got shy about holding hands in public, would blush when they happened to catch the others gaze, sharing smiles where they couldn't see, but could feel.